Village

I'm heading to Provo in 51 minutes to meet my embryos and convince them that they should hang out with me for 9 months. NBD.

When I started my blog in March I wasn't sure what it would turn into. I hadn't gotten pregnant, miscarried, or done in-vitro yet. March? Seems like forever ago.

I chose to blog up-close-and-personal. It's really the only way I know how to be and it has been worth the risk. So far I've only gotten one piece of hate mail.

The sum totality, the grand benefit of all my emotional smatter is that people reciprocated up-close-and-personally. I have shouldered other burdens secretly. I think there are appropriate times to conceal the weight of one's personal life. This wasn't something I was meant to carry alone. It was too hard to handle. This one had to be divided between hoards of friends.

To the hoards, the rockstars of kindness, the village that raised me from my grief: Thank you.

I am not exaggerating when I say there has been a miracle every day for the last week. Miracles still happen and so many of mine were caused by small and simple gestures. There have been cards in the mailbox. Funny texts: Happy Implanting Day! Suzette's sewing. Aunt Lynne's box of 20 cooking magazines. Prayers. Kind thoughts. Kouing amans. Culver's fish sandwiches. A homemade t-shirt that says "It's Gonna Happen" (that I've worn all day and will wear at the doctor's office). Phone calls. A silver whistle was just hand-delivered for the bed rest that starts tonight. I'm gonna tweet like I'm Captain Von Trapp.

I could not have gotten to this finish line without you dear friends. To anyone that has cheered for me, prayed for me, thought for me, sent to me, or loved towards me: I can feel it. I hope I can do the same for you when your time of need comes along.

This has been the most unique experience of my life. No matter what happens it was worth it just to witness how amazing people can be.  

*Thank you, Carol, for opening my eyes to that line! Image from istockphoto.com.

UPDATE ONE HOUR LATER: I was so "valiumed" that I buckled myself horizontally in the back seat with a pillow and blankie. As we pulled out of the driveway Greg told me to sit up if I could...and the Dixons and Lunds and lots of neighborhood kids all lined the street and cheered for us as we drove away. It was totally awesome. I felt like Cleopatra or someone in the Macy's Parade. Seriously, who gets this much love?