I had another anniversary of sorts this week. As of this week, I've been legally divorced for a year. It's crazy to think about ending fertility treatments just 5 years ago, selling our house 4 years ago, and now... I'm divorced.
I loved being married and then overnight I knew it wasn't a good marriage for me.
Except it wasn't overnight of course.
He and I had a long history. Love at first sight, dated? Friends for a long time, stayed in touch off and on, reconnected, dated for real, loved each other, got married.
But we didn't live happily ever after. Well, not together anyway.
I knew where I was compromising, but I chose to get married anyway. I wanted him to be the father of my children. I loved him and I loved being married. But it wasn't easy. I was lonely a lot.
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes infertility. I will always be thankful he was there for me. He did everything I asked even though, like most people, doctors' offices were one of his least favorite places. He sat with me who-knows-how-many times as I cried. Then we made new plans together and worked toward completely changing our lives.
But then, over a matter of months, everything changed. The closer we got to moving out of state, the more unexplainably angry he got. When it came down to it, I don't think he wanted to move as much as he/we thought he wanted to move.
He was the man I married, the man I chose to be the father of my children. When our children never came, it turned out he and I actually wanted very different things out of life. While my marriage got me through infertility, my marriage did not survive infertility.
There were several arguments leading up to me leaving him. The first one was bad, but I chalked it up to the stress of moving. The second one was also bad. It was only a month after the first argument and it really made me think. The third argument... Honestly? I went to bed. I was so tired and so sad. But I was also so, so over it. I knew I was done.
In a way, I did know almost overnight. It sucked and I didn't want to leave him, but I also didn't want to stay married to him. I knew I'd figure it out, one step at a time. I knew I'd survive getting divorced.
Over the course of deciding to leave him, telling him, separating our stuff, dealing with the paperwork, and seeing him for the last time, I felt every single emotion possible. Except regret.
Now it has been a year. And we are in the middle of a global crisis. And all I can think about is how crazy everything is and how relieved I am to be divorced. I'm infertile and I'm divorced and I'm content. It's weird. Infertility and divorce refocused me. I know what's important to me in my life now. Infertility and divorce took all of my fucks. I have none left to give.
On the surface, I am currently anxious and worried. This pandemic and all of the changes it's causing are extremely stressful. Everything is at risk- our health, the economy, social norms, life as we knew it.
But deep down, I also have a hardened resolve. I may hate what's going on, but I'll get through it.
So here's to a year of divorce and to the gratitude I've cultivated for life's hardest learned lessons.