Friday, April 12, 2013

Reclaiming my Story

Hours spent in exam room 7.
Bruises on my stomach from injections.
Vials and vials and vials of blood.
Ginger ale in post-op.
Medical bills in a pile on the counter.
Test results. Explaining them to friends.
Babies in urns.

Time spent at yoga retreats feeling frustrated that I wasn't "over it" yet.

Paperwork and arguments.
Spending time together and feeling totally alone.
Packing and unpacking my belongings.
Bill collectors and angry phone calls.
Having my life threatened multiple times.
Talking to lawyers.
Escaping my marriage.

This has been my story.

Yesterday I stepped into that elevator and I took this picture:


I happily went to see my doctor all alone. I told him about the day I left my husband, the last nine months that I spent starting over. Nine months-- enough time to create a new life. I told him how free I felt now that I wasn't trying to conceive or carry or grieve. I told him I haven't been this happy in years.

And it was all true.
It is all over and it is all beginning.

Doc encouraged my med school dreams like he always has. "Now you can do it on your own terms! Now you're unstoppable. If anyone can do this, you can." He smiled from across his desk. "Don't change your mind. Just do it."

And just like that, a new chapter is beginning.
It's not our story anymore, It's mine.
It's destined to be a good one.

This post was inspired by my friend and yoga teacher's recent post on Story