Like this:

Tonight we went on a walk and it started to rain. The last time Dan and I walked in the rain was the day we found out that our IVF failed, that the bright lights had gone out… out of sight, but not out of heart.

It was the worst day of my life. Hands down. Possibly the worst day of Dan’s, but I’ll let him speak to that when he’s up to it. I look back at my posts around that time, and I notice that I posed far fewer posts during the IVF that I have in the last year. I felt such despair and hopelessness that day, and yet I mentioned none of it. I was protecting myself, I guess, but I’ll never forget it either way. That day was so terrible. The frantic drive to the hospital to get blood drawn because of the reaction I was having to the progesterone-in-oil shots (I ended up being allergic to the cottonseed, peanut, and olive oils… but the olive oil was the first and most definitely the worst). The frantic drive home to wait for THE CALL. Jumping out of our skin each time the phone would ring in anticipation for THE CALL. The phone ringing and it finally being THE CALL. A poor, poor woman who got stuck with making THE CALLs that day, a woman I’ve probably never spoken with besides that one devastating thirty second phone call. I’m sorry she says. Looking into Dan’s pleading, anxious eyes, I shook my head, fighting back tears until I hung up the phone while watching Dan fall apart. Absolutely falling apart.

I felt the rain on my skin tonight and was instantly transported back to that day… our walk in the rain that day helped cover up the tears that freely fell.

Worst part about it all is that I can’t help but feel like I should protecting us from this… this torturous experience, but that would mean stopping it all together… that I should not be dragging us further into the muck. We face such a difficult road ahead of us, no more difficult than what we’ve already endured, but I can’t help but think that like our previous experiences, nothing will come of our future attempts except more heartache. I was looking back at what Dan said in his post on feeling overwhelmed. He talked about how much he resented that we were going through this, our loss of innocence, that he would have appreciated a few more years of ignorance before finding out that this whole parenthood thing wasn’t going to happen easily. That post was written two and a half years ago. That resentment is still so fresh in the both of us…

Walking in the rain tonight felt comforting. It takes so much anymore to get my body to let me cry that it’s nice to have the rain fall on my skin. It connects me to that day, allows me to air some of my grief, some of my grievances with the Universe, helps me brush off the cobwebs in the corners of my eyes, remind my body that it’s okay to let it all out.

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