It reminds me that peace is waiting for me.
I've come to many realizations in the past few years as I've wandered down the rabbit hole of fertility planning. The vast majority of these are private, but the biggest and most resounding lesson is that I'm not in control. When talking with my partner of the last nine years, this fact surfaced and resurfaced.
So many things have to go right for you to get pregnant, and 90% doesn't cut it. My focus has been on the parts that are easiest to address, like my diet and the alignment of my energy channels (or whatever it is that acupuncture does).
The 10% is the piece (the peace) that spirit couldn't get past.
So without opening the window into the heart of our relationship and airing our laundry for you to see, I'm writing to tell you that our marriage is over. Our relationship is solid - strong - in many ways cleaner and brighter for having seen the sun. And while my heart feels open and true and sad, I'm overcome with a sense of peace.
Divorce is hard. I think it gets harder with every unspoken resentment, and I'm so grateful that we don't appear to have any. We both love one another enough that we are willing to let the other person pursue their interests and chase their highest calling without the weight of resentment or compromise.
I believe I have now completed the list of things I could possibly do to disappoint my parents. That's hard, too. How do you tell the two people who love you the most that you'd rather give your love wings than hold him in a cage? Especially as saying this might shine a light where it isn't wanted for others who have chosen to stay married for various reasons.
I am grieving the loss of the life I had planned. I am celebrating a gift I have received and a gift I have given. I am humble and vulnerable. And though the waters are still swirling and choppy, I am at peace.
"...Amé, fui amado, el sol acarició mi faz. Vida, nada me debes. Vida, estamos en paz." En Paz, por Amado Nervo