As much as I am enjoying the Olympics, a part of me can't help but feel a little bit sad. It takes me back to the Beijing Olympics and that was a sort of milestone for me. It was my 1st IVF...and my 1st pregnancy. My 1st unsuccessful pregnancy. I remember being so hopeful and hormonal. I watched interviews with the Olympians Mom's and I cried when I saw them in the stands cheering for their children. I had fleeting thoughts about if my child would be a future Olympian or maybe he would be watching with me when the London Olympics aired in 4 years time. It hurts to think about that baby I'll never meet and a part of me hurts for that woman who is no longer so naive.....who knows far too much about sperm and egg quality and D&C's and how pregnancy may not ever lead to a child you can watch the Olympics with....or anything else for that matter.
I think those emotions had a lot to do with my breakdown last week. If I close my eyes and listen to the whistles and the cheers and the commentators, I can almost pretend that it's 4 years ago and that all of those bad things never happened. I didn't do 7 IVF cycles and I didn't have 4 pregnancy losses.
I look forward to the Rio Olympics in 2016 with a bit of hesitancy. I'm so happy that we are on this adoption journey but part of me can't stop wondering if that will end the same way? Will H and I be watching the Summer Olympics together with our little one in 2016 or will we still be chasing our dream?
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