A few days ago I went on a walk.
This may sound like a very mundane thing, but I had not been On A Walk since July. And I have hardly been able to walk for quite some time.
It was a beautiful mild sunny afternoon. First I meandered around the yard for a little bit while I waited for the Badger to put his shoes on. My in-laws have a beautiful, beautiful yard and since I got here in September I have hardly been out in it at all.
Now it was like I was seeing everything for the first time. Everything was achingly beautiful: the brown grass, the bare trees, the backdrop of snow-capped mountains, the gibbous moon rising in the December-blue sky.
We started down the street. I was sore, but I could walk. I didn't feel faint or nauseous. There weren't two babies pressing down on my hips. There was just me and I was overwhelmed with how it felt to be myself again, with a body that could do what I wanted it to do.
I began to think about how this was how it would be from here on out, about all the things that I was going to be able to do again in time, starting with simply caring for my family and working my way up to physical recreation like hiking and biking and snowshoeing. I will be getting stronger and stronger every day instead of weaker.
I cried all the way down to the end of the road. I felt like I had finally come alive again and it felt so overwhelmingly marvelous. Just to be me-- Birrd-- with a body that is rapidly becoming whole and well is such a glorious and amazing gift and one which I will cherish from here on out in a way I never have before.
But I do not regret for an instant what I went through, hard as it was. We needed and wanted these sweet girls in our family. We chose to bring them here. We knew it would be really tough, though it was far tougher than we imagined. But there is absolutely no question of it being worth every sacrifice.