Giving Thanks

As things quiet down around here, which is due more than likely to the impending holiday of Thanksgiving, I myself have been measurable less stressed out and the hormones are on reprieve for a couple of more weeks.

*Thankfully*, I have completed all the scripts I need for the IVF cycle. I ended up going through 3 different pharmacies: ivfmeds.com across the pond; Schrafts and Freedom Drug. I had to do some price comparisons so that’s why the varied selection.

Over the next couple of days, I’m sure the theme for many of us in Blogtopia, state-side anyway, will be based upon reflection of what we are thankful for. It’s remarkable how the positive aspects require so much quiet meditation before a semi-comprehensive list can be created in comparison to topics, ideas, people, etc. that bring our blood to a boil that can be rattled off without forethought. I for one wish the reverse was true.

Let me begin then by listing the things in my life. Some of which I take for granted daily, and others that can bring me to my knees in gratitude.

My bed. I have a soft-side waterbed that feels like a gentle hug when I crawl into it, whether it is to take a nap, doze off too much wine, catch up on some reading, wrestle with Max or share my love with Jerry.

My house. Jerry and I moved into the house we now live in within 3 months of being married. This is my daily “honeymoon” as we were unable to afford to go anywhere with the expectation of buying a home together. Max was conceived here. He first rolled over in his room; he first crawled on the newly installed laminate living-room floor; he took his first steps right there in the kitchen. I will miss this house when we move into the new one still being built.

My town. Sure the town I live in is no booming metropolis. I’ve lived in several different cities before moving back home with my tail between my legs to become one of the many “rubber-band children” in the early 90’s moving back in with their parents. This town has welcomed me back and I have made a home here; created a career here; started a family here.

My health. Sure I have asthma, allergies, and now share the uncomfortable burden of high-risk pregnancy and infertility. As much heartbreak the IF has brought to Jerry and I, it has also made us infinitely more aware of how precious a child’s life is. Every blurb in the news about abused children makes me cry with unfathomable sadness and bewilderment as to how anyone could hurt a completely innocent soul in the ways they do. Treatment for our infertility has also brought me to YOU. So, let me quickly Thank You for being here, waiting, watching, and supporting me go through IF, childrearing, and general female adult activities, which may or may not include bitching, whining, ranting and raving. Thank You.

My son. Max is the light of my body and soul. He can make me shake with fury in one moment and then giggle with joy the next. He’s made me young again. He is the physical proof of his mother and father’s commitment and love for each other, and Jerry and I marvel at times at how *he* is the ultimate combination of two completely different attitudes, personalities, and physical attributes. I would kill for him. I would lay my life down for him. I would surely die if something ever happened to him. I will even step up to the place I rarely like to go and from my heart I say, “Thank you, God, for giving me my son, Max. He is perfection.”

My husband. I would finally like to thank Jerry for being my rock. It may seem so cliché but if you have someone you refer to as your “rock”, you know what I mean. He is solidly committed to us; to his own family; even to my family. He gave me a card for one of our anniversaries several years ago that goes something like this, ”It’s one thing to have a friend, it’s another thing to be in love; but it’s a completely wonderful thing to be in love with your best friend.” I have the card taped to my closet door and it’s been there for almost 5 years. It says it all. He says I’m his best friend. He is mine. Max may be the light of my body and soul, but Jerry is the light of my heart. I am thankful that I found him and that he chose me to be his other half for the rest of our lives. He loves me even when I am at my most unlovable moments.

Thank You, Jerry, and I love you with all my heart and I always will.

Happy Thanksgiving and may the Holiday remind you of what is most important, which we all should try to list out more than once a year.