As I sit here spending my time as a football widow, I can’t help but think about all the goings on of the past year. My journey through infertility, through depression, through pelvic pain, through a brain tumor. I tend to do this every now and then when the calendar comes up on a specific time of year, such as a change of seasons. I don’t know why, I just do. I tend to find that my mind is either stuck in the past or the future.

A year ago this week, we had work start on fixing the tremendous water damage in the front bedroom. It ended up being a lot more expensive and took longer than anticipated (close to six weeks) due to the extent of the damage. I’ll never forget the day I opened the bedroom door to see how the work was going and discovered the entire front wall was gone, window included (see picture. The whole wall was removed up to the white line; the boards you see are just to keep weather out.) ? We picked a great company, though. And I’m glad we got it done when we did, because that wall wouldn’t have lasted another year. Of course, we were planning on preparing the room to be a nursery by this point. So much for that. We don’t even have the money for that right now.

Later that same week, I had an appointment with my OB/GYN to discuss fertility options, since it was clear at this point that we were having problems. Together, we decided Clomid was the best option, but he was starting me on a really high dose (which of course led to worse side effects.) I had to wait until Halloween to start taking it due to irregularities in my cycle. I cried through the two hours of handing out candy for the neighborhood trick-or-treating (yes, already.) But what came after were three of the worst months of my life. And all for nothing. I will never take Clomid again. I can’t make myself go through that another time.

A year ago next weekend was a family wedding in Minnesota, which was great fun and is the last real trip I’ve taken. It was a stunning, beautiful day, and the wedding was wonderful. It’s probably the best fed I’ve ever been at a wedding since my celiac diagnosis, too! We have such great families to be around, and it was great hanging around with David’s relatives all weekend. This is probably my last good memory of the past year, when I still felt good and was only just starting to have symptoms of what was later found this past July to be that stupid hernia.

Since then…I don’t know what to describe my life as but a train wreck. Maybe an avalanche, and I’m just now getting to the top of the snow pack that had me buried. Do I wish it were a year ago? No, because I don’t think I could relive the hell of the past year again. But I wish I were at least as happy as I was a year ago. Yes, we were facing infertility, but we were so sure the Clomid was going to be the answer. My OB/GYN was so sure it would work too (because honestly, how often is it that a brain tumor ends up being the cause of fertility issues?)

I can only pray that in the coming weeks and months, as I gradually heal from the brain surgery and return to work (eew) that my life will resume enough of a semblance of normalcy that I can mentally rebound as well. I need a steady mind for whatever comes next in the trial that is my life.

Reminds me of lyrics from one of my all-time favorite show choir numbers…

“The moon will grow, the moon will die. The rivers flow, the seasons will fly. We reap, we sow. It is all we ever know. And time goes by, time goes by so slow…”

The Ritual

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