It took me a long time to get to this place after my first loss, because moving forward felt like forgetting or leaving my baby behind. I spent a great deal of time figuring out that moving forward wasn't diminishing the fact I loved and missed my baby every day. Moving forward was in a way honoring her existence by simply acknowledging she changed my life for the better despite not being here with me.
There is no denying that my life does not in any way, shape or form look like the life that I want. In fact, I'm so far from the life I want, it's depressing. Now, after losing my precious baby, I'm even more depressed. Professionally, reproductively, even a tad on the personal level, my life depresses me.
Now that my uterus and arms are painfully empty, I have to do something. I have to move forward and toward the life I want. I feel like my life is slipping away. The main problem is that I've made so many hurtles and obstacles for myself, I don't even know where to begin. I've made so many decisions in the last year or so thinking it would help me get to where I wanted to be, but it's done the opposite. My last career move is the prime example. I was teaching an age group I loved, in a center I loved, with a co-teacher I loved. The insurance was sub-par as far as covering infertility, so when the subject of moving came up, I thought it was my chance to find a better job with better insurance. Instead, I settled for an assistant job, making $2 less per hour, in an age group I don't particularly like. But the insurance. The insurance covers infertility treatments and tests... but I'm so unhappy at work that I have to make myself go to work every day. And each time they deposit my paycheck into my account, a part of me dies because I know I won't have enough money to pay my bills.
The obvious answer would be get a better job. But since we live in such a weird place, there are very few career opportunities for me here. Moving back home, I'd have tons, but there again comes the insurance problem. Moving also means long distance for DH and I again until he can find a job, which after almost a year and a half of looking, I have little faith a job will fall into this lap.
I want to move forward. I need to move forward. And I understand that moving forward does not mean that I do not love Daya or Kaya any less. They will always be my babies and I will always love them and honor them whenever I can. But moving forward isn't a simple next step for me right now and that's scary.
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