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img_4193I can’t think of a better way to kick off National Infertility Awareness Week than jumping out of a plane. Skydiving has an exhilarating affect, one that saturates every cell in the body with 100% pure joy. For all the moments in the Assisted Reproduction experience where I felt the situation is unfair, or I was hurt by someone saying insensitive, stinging words, or gossiping about what we may or may not be up to, flying through the sky has a magical way of erasing all of that.

I had many memorable moments at 13,000, 11,000, 9,000 feet – a sentimental one when Steph and I toasted a Bud Light, one of awe of seeing the Atlantic Ocean and patterned farmland in the same field of sight, another where I felt the sky as a comfortable blanket rather than a distant, mysterious space that contains only clouds, birds and airplanes. The feeling that resonated the most, one that I take with me to my steps on the ground, is the feeling of personal power. Anyone who has experienced infertility, or utilized technology to procreate understands the many layers of hardship it entails. We hand over our bodies to modern science, and mother nature, at great cost. There are no fair choices or solid explanations and powerlessness prevails. But we really are very powerful, we just don’t know it until we jump out of a plane sometimes.

Not having babies the way everyone else does has taught me not to wait around for life to happen, but to live each moment to the fullest. That is powerful. In the past few months I have soared deep and high and, regardless of the outcome, I know where my heart lies. High in the sky.

Infertility and Adoption are not fast rides---but this is.

Infertility and Adoption are not fast rides---but this is.

In the past week or so I’ve had two huge rushes. The first came after my laproscopy when Danny and I decided adoption would be our best course of action. I never imagined that getting off the infertility highway and merging onto the adoption express would feel so thrilling, but it does.  I had this moment (drugged sure) after my surgery when Danny passed on the news from the doctor that the pregnancy outlook was not so good when my heart just clicked (corny but true). I thought, yes, we’ll adopt. It feels right and good. Since then I’ve read everything in print on adoption and now, our application is in. Our ball is rolling. And I’m soaring.

Speaking of soaring, Saturday, Alisa and I decided on a semi-whim to go skydiving to kick off National Infertility Awareness Week. Weeeeeeeee! It’s amazing, like flying, really, really fast (120 mph to be exact). I can’t imagine a bigger thrill (except of course meeting the baby that is supposedly waiting for me out there somewhere).

Probably my favorite part of the day was when the parachute opened and my skydive instrcutor, Art, handed me a beer to enjoy while soaring 10,000 feet above the St John’s River. I toasted Alisa as she sailed by in her own parachute–a surreal moment if there ever was one–and then held onto my Bud Lite for dear life lest I drop it and kill someone. (Seriously, I can’t believe he trusted me with that, the girl who tripped on her way to the prop plane.)

Until the next adventure, Cheers!