The roses are blooming finally. A slow unfurling of their petals, it made it seem like they never would. The overgrown mini rose bush bloomed weeks ago, it's petals already sinking to the ground in a shower of red.
But the white rose bush we planted over a year ago, after the second miscarriage, is now blooming again. Last year it bloomed, lost all it's blooms, then bloomed a new set some time later, lost those, and later still it bloomed a third time. The leaves never fell off before winter- they stayed green and then when it warmed up? They turned brown and fell off.
We thought the rose bush was going to die, because it is completely different than our other rose bush. But it came back strong and beautiful as ever. Big huge beautiful white blooms- and so bittersweet. But just like when I look at the cherry tree we planted for the first loss, I look at this one too- I see it's growth, how strong it is- and I smile. Sometimes it's a sad smile, sometimes a happy one- but always a smile. They remind me of how much time has passed, but also that there is beauty in the world even now.
I'm going to miss them someday, when we leave this house. That's why I take pictures of them every year, to remember, to mark their growth, to capture their beauty. When we move, we hope to buy the same plants and plant them in our new place. They won't hold the same meaning, but they will remind us all the same.
In other news- new cycle begins tomorrow. If my doctor says it's still okay, and if I don't have leftover cysts, we will most likely be trying Femara this cycle. We'll see.
Still feeling slightly bummed, oddly. But trying to keep things in perspective though. I strangely find myself clinging to the light at the end of the tunnel- in a few months we will probably be done with treatments and start focusing solely on adoption. It's not the light I originally imagined would be at the end of the tunnel, but I assure you it is a welcome light to me. My heart really isn't in this anymore, too many failures and let downs. No faith or hope in treatments, no faith or belief in pregnancy. I'm pretty much just done. Pretty much, but not quite.
I am trying to keep the cost of adoption in perspective, and focus on one month at a time doing what we can- instead of looking at the bigger picture, because that is extremely overwhelming. I'm getting there.
Until then though- one day at a time.