52 to Cowes: What 9 Looks Like

Today we are 9.  Nine whole years since we became 'we'. On one hand I'm aware I could turn this into something totally depressing. Firstly because this means we'll be getting old soon- whatever you term to be old, we are nine years closer to it, nine whole years, but secondly because 9 doesn't look at all like either of us imagined. I was always convinced we'd have a six year old by now (or there abouts) with one or two younger siblings. This time each year is interesting. Its a natural time of reflection, you can't help but look back and assess how far you've come, or not come. I believe it is no coincidence that it was on our 7th anniversary, after the tears brought on by that reflection,  I finally decided enough was enough and picked up the phone to call my GP. On the whole, despite this, its been a good 9 years. We've done lots, seen lots, and definitely changed and grown lots and in the picture above we certainly seem happy enough. I'm aware my perspective is starting to change. I am learning not to regret the years of struggle both before and after that phone call to the GP two years ago. I am learning that regretting something I truly have pretty much no control over is a waste of time and emotion (if I regret anything now, it is not taking that trip, but then how were we to know that 3 rounds of Clomid wouldn't be our golden ticket to parenthood). In reality, what is a story without a struggle? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm ok with any of this, that it doesn't still hurt, or that I don't wish we were done with it already. But imagine Snow white without the poisoned apple, Red Riding Hood without the wolf, or Hansel and Gretel without the Witch in her gingerbread house? I guess I'm coming to a place of acceptance that we all have story and we don't get to choose what happens, but something will, and without it where would we be. A life of ease sounds great, like a fairytale maybe? but thats not so... every fairytale has its ogre/ witch / demon or whatever. Maybe its our scars that make us beautiful. Our story goes on, I guess thats what I should be grateful for.