the beginning of the end

The beginning of the end of this blog happened during the bloodbath miscarriage.  It was a seat of the soul shaking event.  I didn’t have any serious hope after bleeding in that way that my body would ever successfully carry another pregnancy.  Something is wrong with my uterus – something that doctors don’t really know how to fix as they don’t fully understand what’s wrong.  Hopefully, someone will figure it out for the women who come after me.  I hoped that subsequent cycles might work; I knew in the depths of my being that they wouldn’t.  It’s just one of those things.

The end of the end of this blog?  The failed attempts at gestational carrier.  I remember everything about the day we first heard my dear friend’s lining wasn’t thickening as expected.  I remember tears at the edge of my eyes, I remember my doctor trying to explain how he wasn’t worried, and I remember knowing – that deep sense of knowing – that we were done.  Out of hope.  No more hope to hold.

I am so lucky.  I got BabyHope.  I am so unlucky.  I’ve had more strange, unlikely, nearly impossible things happen to my hopes and my body in this infertility journey.

I want another baby.  I may always want another baby.

I am still infertile.  I will probably always identify as infertile.

But I can’t write here anymore.  I have to live here and now – not holding on to hope for the impossible.  Maybe I’ll start fresh somewhere else, with a different purpose and a different audience.  I intend to leave the blog up.  All those strange and impossible things will maybe yield some hope to someone in the darkness.

The end.


~ by Larisa on March 26, 2012.

12 Responses to “the beginning of the end”

  1. I started reading the blog later on, around the beginning of the end. I was so sad hearing how things turned out. But I admired and admire your strength in going on and focusing on Baby Hope and your family. I wish you good things and send you many supportive thoughts for the next phase of your journey. Love and Peace to you, Kristina

  2. There is so much I could say–I could go on and on about your willingness to open yourself up and lay yourself raw to friends and strangers alike and how that has been a beacon of light in the darkness for many. Having walked this journey with you, I know first hand how much it has meant to me. You can leave this blog knowing that you DID make a difference. You may never how, or to whom, but you did. Well done, my friend…well done.

  3. I just wanted to say an official “good-bye”. I started reading only a year ago, after our meeting in the basement on Capitol Hill during Advocacy Day. I wish you and your family the very very best.

  4. I’m sad to see you leave this space but understand too. Sending you on to the next journey with a hundred hugs.

  5. What you wrote about living in the here and now and not holding onto hope of the impossible so resonates with me. Most days I am able to do it, but every once in awhile, a little speck of hope still pops up.

    I’ve followed you here from your previous blog and if you blog again somewhere else I hope I will get to follow you there too.

    Wishing you peace, my friend.

  6. I understand. I really, really understand.

    But I miss you. Selfishly.

    Sending you love and good vibes and the very best wishes for you and your family, my friend.


  7. I think I stumbled upon your original blog not too long after BabyHope was born 🙂 Thank you for sharing your journey- it surely helps others in similar circumstances. You will be missed. Best wishes for health and happiness to you and your family… Take care!

  8. I understand your desire to move forward. I hope you’ll share your new space with us.

  9. I’ve been following since right around when Baby Hope was born so I will miss you. I wish you and your family all the best!

  10. I have followed you since before babyhope. My heart aches for you. I know how bad you want another baby. I know how hard you try to live in the here and now. I wish you the best and happiness and I pray that one day your dream will come true….

  11. So sorry 😦 Im going to miss you

  12. It’s bittersweet, your ending. I’m grateful you are able to find footing to grow and bloom your way through the present moment. Mostly, I’m so glad I don’t have to miss you in RL. 🙂

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