Last Friday I celebrated my 3rd Survivor Anniversary. On my 1st Survivor Anniversary I'm pretty sure I spent the day in bed crying. I honestly don't remember, but I'm pretty sure it was spent doing something like that. Then I wrote about my 2nd anniversary last year. And now I've lived through my 3rd anniversary. But let's take it back to three years ago...
On March 23, 2015 the nurse called to tell me that my latest round of IVF did not result in pregnancy. I was so exhausted and so depleted that I didn't even have any tears left to cry. I sat there numb and knew it was over. I could not go on "living" like I was. I put "living" in quotation marks because I wasn't really living. I was alive. My heart was pumping and I was breathing, but... That's about it. Like I've written before, I was walking death. A shell of my former self. I looked back at the last three years of my life and all of the time, money, and emotions I had put into everything, and I felt like I had nothing to show for it. All I could think was I wanted my life to be entirely different three years later from that point. And I knew it was going to be by far the hardest thing that I had ever done.
I always wondered what my life would look like on March 23, 2018. And then the day came.
I was 1500 miles away from home, on a school-related adventure by myself, studying for a whole week under my mentor. It was an awesome opportunity and an incredible experience.
But more than that, it was a miracle.
Not only was I alive, I was LIVING. And not only was I living, but I was HAPPY. Three years ago, I didn't think that would ever be possible again. I figured I would figure something out and go on about my life, but I was not expecting to ever feel truly happy again. I just wanted to do something different with my life so I didn't feel like such a waste of space.
But I worked my ass off (and am still doing so), and here I am!
Like I wrote last year:
I am a survivor.
I am free.