Happy New Year!

I have always loved the start of a new year.  The freshness in the air, the possibility of what lies ahead, and even the resolutions that few of us manage to keep all year.  I love that we try to make ourselves better people, and it seems to happen most frequently right around January 1st.  I met several new friends this week at my gym, some new faces that may or may not stay all year.  I read how many of my friends declared on social media would improve their lives in 2017 (good luck with creating a better budget, freezer meals, getting into shape, creating a healthy relationship with family, and quitting smoking- you can do it!)  New Year’s Eve used to bring such excitement, as I would chat with many friends and decide what was the best plan (although looking back on a few, I seriously question my judgment) and plan outfits, coordinate schedules, and enjoy ringing in the new year. 

I will always remember the end of 2010.  I had imagined 2011 being the most magical year of my life.  After years of struggling to get pregnant, then stay pregnant, (because it was not in the right spot) Aaron and I had taken a huge leap of faith, and decided to undergo In Vitro Fertilization.  We spent an enormous amount of time and effort with my medical team, and the day I was to begin my fertility injections, was January 1st, 2011.  I had practiced on a fake belly, and had done all I could do to prepare myself.  I knew it would be difficult, as needles and blood make me a little squeamish, but I knew what was at stake.  Aaron and I stayed up past midnight, and somehow I fell asleep knowing that the next day was the first step in our plan to finally become parents. 

I woke up to my alarm at 6:00.  I turned the light on, sat up, and Aaron was immediately sitting next to me.  He knew that he was the back-up belly stabber if I flaked out.  The deal was, I had three chances, and then it was his turn.  I knew he would have no trouble doing it, and that he wouldn’t flinch I suddenly screamed “STOP!” so it would be much better if I could do the job myself.  I gave myself a countdown, and turned away and laughed, and the same thing happened on my second try.  On the third try, I somehow managed to push the needle through my skin, and then emptied the syringe into my belly.  I now considered myself a bona fide superstar, and  I continued the ritual until  the time came for me to stop.

Even though that cycle was cancelled, as the meds had created one mutant follicle on my ovary, instead of many super eggs that we all hoped for, even though the next attempt, a month later, didn’t have the outcome we hoped and prayed for, that year was significant.  Losing Savannah and Charlie was absolutely the most difficult loss imaginable.  But they were absolutely loved and cherished for every second of their existence.  The year of 2011 also brought us another miracle.  In the same IFV batch that created the embryos that would become Savannah and Charlie, were 4 other grew in Lyndsay’s uterus.  That embryo became Maizy, who was born in 2012.

The following 2 years would give us other miracles, ones that we didn’t plan or expect.  In 2013 I found out that I was pregnant with the biggest surprise of our lives, Layla.  I remember when she threated to arrive early, begging, pleading for her life, that she would stay put until the New Year (2014) when she would have a chance at surviving.  Little did we know how stubborn she would be, and how she would make it one day past her due date, just to show off a little. 

Now that our dinner table is full, now that I no longer wonder if the next year will be the year I finally get to become a Mama, and no longer make secret deals with God in hopes that He would just give me a child, my New Year’s are much different.  Since 2012, I haven’t ventured out of our home to celebrate, because everything I cherish is inside (okay, and because I am an old lady who doesn’t like to be out after the bars close and the crazy drivers are on the road.)  This year, both girls were naughty and snuck out of bed no less than one hundred times (well, maybe ten) and we watched Jenny and Donnie make out on TV when the ball dropped.  I thought back to 2010 though, and six years later, remember that excitement, the hopes, the anticipation, as if it were a few weeks ago.  My belly stabbing days are long-gone, but the ache in my heart might always be there. Those of you who are hoping that 2017 is your year, my heart is always with you.