I have been reading blogs as if the behavior would save my life. Page after page of the lives of strangers scroll through my iPad. Like reading tea leaves I attempt to divine my future. How many tries did it take before she became pregnant? What kind of procedures did they use? When did they give up? Is my experience somewhere in these pages? Will it be 4 or 5 or 6 attempts? Will we ever succeed?

I’m an academic at heart. I love looking for answers – finding new ways to see the world. If left to my own devices I will immerse myself in the questions, loosing track of all else until I find my solution. It is part of why I love working in a University setting so much. My work validates my obsession with learning and my workaholic tendencies. (Today in the car KK told me that she doesn’t even make the top two of my happiest places – work being number one and the swimming pool being number two. I didn’t even try to correct her. Lucky me, she sees me as I am and loves me anyway.)

Here, in this place, there are no answers. It’s just fog in a fun house. No matter how many blogs I read I know that I will not find the answers I seek. Today I swam laps for the first time in more than a month. It felt amazing. As I crawled out of the pool I felt like me for the first time since this crazy journey began. Maybe the answers are there, in that place of peace that is the opposite of exhaustive research where I connect to myself again. There, as the water drips off my fingertips and onto the deck, I remember that I like this life I inhabit.

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