Should We Celebrate the Seasons (and Years) of Love? - Conceive gynaecology and fertility hospital sharjah

Cheers, dear readers,

This past week, I had the incredible great pleasure of celebrating my tenth wedding anniversary with not only the amazing and wonderful man who helps me co-write this blog, but also some very dear friends and family from near and far. It’s almost hard to fathom that Eric and I got married at that beautiful lighthouse all those years ago by one of the attendees at our anniversary celebration, Mr. Reverend Ray Boyd. I couldn’t help but think of all of the metaphors that cropped up during the week. A lighthouse after all is a symbol of a shining beacon of hope calling out to others – much like this blog is for those feeling stranded and alone due to an infertility diagnosis, letting them know that they are not alone, safe shores are nearby, and caution – rocky times potentially ahead!

“Hooray for metaphors!”

Then the initial five of us at the beach house had to “batten down the hatches” as it were to survive hurricane Mathew that started the week off. Ironically, the friends that were with us are a couple who traveled all the way from Scotland with their adorable 8-year daughter that was miraculously conceived through a trying year+ of IVF (and are two of our biggest supporters of this blog. Yay!) We were awoken at 4am Sunday morning by the sound of eerie dripping water, crazy threatening gusts of wind, and the entire oceanfront house shaking from side to side. Another metaphor for the infertility journey – shaken to your core, not knowing what is going to happen next, holding on for dear life until another cycle “passes.”

Lastly, Dare County, North Carolina closed the bridge into the area for an unknown number of days so that crews could clean up the area to help make it safe. That is all well and good except that many guests for our celebratory week were on the other side of the bridge unable to enter, contemplating the possibility of turning their cars around to drive back home, thus potentially negating the need for our large multiple-family vacation home and the musicians who were scheduled to perform. They can’t very well play to an almost empty house (or could they?….No, that doesn’t make any sense).

When we didn’t know if they were going to open the bridge or not, I thought:

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“Really? After all Eric and I have been through, infertility survivors and all, we just want to celebrate our dang 10-year wedding anniversary surrounded by people we love. We can’t even have THAT?! Come on!”

And miraculously, right when I was about to “lose it” and drive right over to that bridge and try (probably in vain) to sweet talk an officer, or see if my friends could ditch their cars and walk over, they lifted the restriction. There was much rejoicing and champagne drinking at 9:30am to celebrate our newfound good fortune! Our peeps were coming! The party that I’d been planning for months (years actually) was back on!

During the week, one of my friends said someone questioned them about going through all that trouble to come to our event saying:

“What’s the big deal about an anniversary?”

Interesting question. What’s the big deal about ANY celebration? Why should we celebrate anything at all? Well I think simply, BECAUSE WE CAN! To explain further, whether it’s a child’s birthday, or a couple’s wedding anniversary (even one of a random number that doesn’t end in a zero or a five), celebrating joy, love and being on this earth together is AWESOME and worth doing. Why NOT celebrate I ask? After having gone through depression, the loss of my unborn children, and the death of loved ones such as my parents (who wanted to be grandparents), realizing that walking around half dead is no way to live. Today and every day now, I do my level-best to celebrate what I DO have, to feel and express gratitude, to allow myself moments of pure joy when I can find them, anyway that I find them. After years of having days where I felt nothing at all – numb, then feeling angry, hopeless, fearful, dejected, rejected and abandoned, I now know to search for the thrill in the little things, as well as the big things.

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Big things like LOVE. Love of all kinds.

…Love of my friends, old and new. Love of what my parents taught me all those years ago that I pass on to others through my writing, my actions, my endeavors – so what if I’m not passing it on to offspring? Is that all there is? I am here to tell you that that is NOT all there is. There is so much more to celebrate. Each and every day.

So I ask you: What are YOU celebrating today? Feel free to tell me in the comments.

During the celebration that consisted of an 11-person a cappella collegiate band (the Tar Heel Voices), an amazingly talented trio (guitarist Karl Werne, saxophonist Eddie Williams, backup vocalist Diane Rester), and all of the beloved guests in attendance, an amazing and wonderful thing happened… Magic, memories, and cherished moments were created for each and every person that was there. It was quite a sight to see, behold and have our ears graced with the amazingly beautiful sounds of people joining together… to celebrate love.

As the Tar Heel Voices opened with a song that we requested that they learn for us, my body shook with joy, and tears uncontrollably started welling up in my eyes. I love it when a plan not only comes together, but when it is even more beautiful than we could have ever imagined… I bring you the lyrics from their opening number…

SEASONS OF LOVE (from the musical “Rent”, Written by Jonathan D. Larson)

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

 

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets

In midnights, in cups of coffee

In inches, in miles

In laughter, in strife

 

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year in the life

 

How about love?

How about love?

How about love?

Measure in love

Seasons of love

Seasons of love

 

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Journeys to plan

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure the life

Of a woman or a man?

 

In truths that she learned

Or in times that he cried

In bridges he burned

Or the way that she died

 

It’s time now to sing out

Tho’ the story never ends

Let’s celebrate

Remember a year in the life of friends

 

Remember the love

Remember the love

Remember the love

Measure in love

Measure, measure your life in love

 

Seasons of love

Seasons of love

 

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Please join us next week to hear more about our personal journey down the infertility path. I look forward to speaking with you. And I wish you the best on your journey.

Warm regards,
Cathy

 

Screen Shot 2016-10-18 at 10.29.29 AM

 

Photo credit: Diane Rester and Cathy Broadwell’s selfie stick

 

This post is also available in: Arabic

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