Jesse and I have put things on hold to make our parental dreams come true. We don't go on vacations. We didn't pursue buying a house as soon as Jesse wanted to. All because I was scared of throwing a bunch of money at something else when it could be used toward fertility treatments. It's relatively embarrassing that in roughly 24 months I have spent the same amount on ovulation kits and pregnancy tests that we could have spent on two plane tickets to a tropical destination (OK, we'd probably still have to use a Groupon). Yuck. I have always scoffed at women who allow themselves to be so consumed with motherhood. How can they lose their identity like that? And then I realized I have been no different. Except I don't have a squishy, drooly human to show for it. Judgey Wudgey was bear. Who's more pathetic? Side note: I don't consume myself too much with how others live their life, but I will admit that how others handle the transition from before kids to after kids has always bewildered me. I am self aware enough, though, to admit I will most certainly struggle with that balance someday too, thus I try not to judge too harshly. Anymore.
I will never regret the itensity in which we pursued fertility treatments this past year. We went buck wild for our baby, and there is no shame in that game. I'd venture to guess anyone else would do the same thing if they were in a similar situation. But sometimes you just have to stop (collaborate) and listen to your heart (before it tears you apart).
I know I have already written about Jesse and I focusing more on the state of our marriage. Nurturing it, and making that our focal point. Communicating our feelings. It's been so good for us. And we are listening to each other. Like on the house stuff. I always shut Jesse down on it before. I now see the value in it, and am trusting that it's the best thing for us right now. I can take my infertility obsessed blinders off and actually see how it will benefit us more when and if we have to pursue the financial giant that is IVF. And Jesse is listening to me to. He'd be happy as a clam in the suburbs, but he is allowing me to take the reigns when pursuing a home in the heart of the city. I love him for that. Speaking of which...does anyone know where I can get some street legal sedatives? The ones I am putting in his chocolate milk every night are running low. Just kidding.
So there you have it. Communicating. Listening. Trusting. That almost sounds like our marriage vows. Crazy, isn't it?