What if?

Lately, it's the 'what if's that have my brain spinning at night. Truth be told, I have always been a 'what if' kind of person. It's one of my greatest flaws. I am always thinking forward to the future and trying to figure out all of the worst possible scenarios. Don't get me wrong, I also think about the good things and the positive possibilities. It's just that part of me feels like I'd rather be emotionally prepared for the bad things. There's a small comfort in at least knowing the worst case. As long as I know what might happen, it won't completely blindside me, right?

Only life doesn't exactly work that way. There's always some hidden danger you weren't expecting. On top of that, sometimes when the worst things happen, it doesn't matter that you knew they were possible. Sometimes the bad things still knock us on our butts, regardless of whether we thought we were prepared for them or not. Some things hurt so badly, there's no possible way to prepare. 11 years ago, I had the worst thing happen to me when I was on a trip to Europe. Did I know it was a possibility? Yes, I guess there was some part of me that knew something like that could happen to a woman traveling alone in a foreign country. But I never really thought it would happen. So when it did, I wasn't prepared. Tomorrow, it will be 11 years since it happened, and I'm still not over it. I don't know that I will ever be over it.

In that instance, it didn't matter that somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was a possibility. Nothing could have prepared me for the emotional impact of that one single event. So why do I keep doing this to myself? Why do I keep borrowing trouble? If it doesn't truly make the bad things easier to digest, why do I spend weeks, even months, worrying about the what if's? What if I don't get pregnant with IVF? What if we can't afford to try again? What if I miscarry? What if my heart breaks over and over again?

The answer to all those questions is the same. If any of those things happen, terrible as they may be, I will grieve. I will be sad, angry, upset, yes, even heart-broken. But I will survive it. Just like I've been surviving for the past 11 years. It will hurt, but I will find a way to be strong. I will move past it, and someday, I will become a mother. I hope that it will happen sooner rather than later, but life is full of what ifs and unknowns and that will never change. So for now, I'm going to try to put those what if questions and worst-case scenarios to the side and choose instead to try something new. Hope.