The Best of Days, the Worst of Days.

I haven't been on Enableme since Stroke Week. Not that I have nothing to say, if anything, I have too much. Most of it has been conversations in my head. Just when I think I'm coming to accept my new life, with my limitations and challenges, a new facet of the challenge rears its ugly head and begins the attack on my confidence again.

Earlier this year I was diagnosed with endometriosis (because I need another medical condition!!). After trying to start a family for three years, we finally had a reason why nothing was happening. But reasons don't make it easier to bear. We had only one option if we wanted to have a family: IVF. The thought of going through IVF scared me from the first. There was a lot of soul-searching, so many tears, but finally we decided we had to give it a go. I don't know if I could live with myself if I just gave up. Thats not me. Even without the added complication of stroke, this was a big decision.

So during Stroke Week, I began the process of IVF. In the weeks that followed, we went through so much: the endless injections, the extra injections because I'd had a stroke, the surgery, the good news, the bad news. The news that we had only one shot at this.

Questioning myself: can I physically handle the stress of having a baby? What about the right-side weakness that still plagues me? What about my memory? What if I forget something? Will I be putting too much pressure on my family to pick up my slack when I can't do everything? Am I being selfish for wanting this? Why should my disability stop me from having children? Don't I have the right to live my life how I want to? Do I have the right?

I've battled depression most of my life. Most days I can get on with everything, and almost no one knows. In fact, apart from my family (and now you, my dear "Stroke Family") no one knows. I put on a front for the rest of the world. I pretend I'm okay for everyone else. I don't know if it's just the additional hormones they are treating me with, or it's the reality of what we were faced with (I suspect a combination of both), but the battle has been real. Convincing myself to get out of bed in the morning. To leave the house and go to work, the gym, to volunteer, to have some sort of social life. Questioning myself, second-guessing myself. Some times I was steeped in optimism, bordering on euphoria . Other times I felt like I was wading through mud up to my neck.

Either way, tomorrow is the day. The day we find out if it's been worth the effort. I'm afraid to hope. I don't want to be let down. It could be the best of days, or it could be the worst of days. I don't know what scares me more: the news that it's all worked out, or the news that it hasn't. If it has all worked out, the next year is going to be as trying as the last four weeks. If it hasn't happened, am I going to loose it completely? I don't want to be sad. I don't want to cause other people to worry about me. I don't want to fall apart, but I don't know how to stop that from happening.

Yesterday I took time out and went to my first concert since having my stroke; we saw The Piano Guys at the Sydney Opera House (it was totally awesome, just saying...). One thing that struck me about these guys was their openness and honesty. Openly religious, openly acknowledging struggles, even tears on stage (yes, men crying in public!). There is one of their songs that I've fallen in love with the last couple of week, and it was performed live yesterday. It's called "It's gonna be OKAY". This is the first song I play in the morning now, it helps me get out of bed and face the day:

Another of their songs has also become a daily ritual in my house, it's called "This is Your Fight Song", and yesterday they dedicated it to anyone in the audience who was fighting their own battle (yes, there were more man-tears on stage, and girl-tears from me):

So, whether tomorrow is the "best of days" or the "worst of days", I know eventually "it's gonna be OKAY" and I will ... fight on.