Scars

The summer before my senior year of high school, my foot got ran over by a car.

I wish that I could say it was in some daring feat to rescue an animal, or something cool like I was in a high speed car chase and I was trying to out run the cops. But the reality of it was, I was about to be a senior. Out where I'm from we spray paint very clever and ceative things on road signs like "Class of 1999" or "99 rulez" or "The Class of 99 wuz here". Because we are so original. Well, I happend to be in the back seat of a car full of mischevious girls and saw a great place for the spray paint to go. I told my friend who was driving to "stop the car!". Before it had come to a complete stop, I attempted to get out of the back seat. I, unfortunately was also wearing flip flops.

The comibination of the car still rolling, flip flops, and getting out of the car = foot being ran over.

I literally had to ask my friend to "Back up please, because my foot is stuck under your back tire."

Only after I pulled my foot back in the car did I began to scream at all the nastiness that was now the side of my foot. I was a trooper though. Didn't even go to the doctor. More out of stupidity than anything else. We were aftaid of getting caught with the spray paint. We also had to come up with an eloborate story of how the said incident happened because my friend didn't want her mom to know she had run over someone's foot. Our story involved me falling on the corner of some concrete slab. It was very believable.

I also told my parents in High School that my boyfriend and I got stuck in a field because we were looking at deer.

Lying has never really been my strong suit.

One time I got caught sneeking out of my house and told my parents I had fallen asleep in my bed with all of my clothes on (with shoes also) because I was putting together new outfits and got so tired, I just had to lay down.

If God has a sense of humor (and I'm pretty certain he does), then I can't wait to see what is in store for us as parents.

Anyway....

I have this huge scar on my left foot from all the running over and such. It took a long time for it to actually turn into a scar. It was a wide, gaping wound for months. But eventually it did.

I really don't think about it much, but every now and then a pain will shoot across it and make me remember that night. I usually laugh and think of my sweet friends from home.

I was laying awake in bed the other night and I found myself getting a little upset about our infertility. This surprised me. Because, mostly I don't ever think about it anymore. Sure, I think about the fact that it's quit possible I'll never be pregnant, but now, when I think about those things, it's not with a sense of sadness. It's more of fact. It really and truly does not bother me that I don't have to go through birth and delivery. A little excited about that fact if I'm honest.

But the longing to create a child with my husband is still there sometimes. It's not hovering, it's not all encompassing, I don't dwell on it anymore. But sometimes, there is a twinge of pain. Just like the scar on my foot.

The scar will always be there. But it is not something that I'm ashamed to talk about or that I want to even hide. It's apart of what makes me....well, me. It's apart of our life story. As I was thinking about this, it was such a reminder to me that wounds do heal, but they don't vanish. And that's ok.

The scar of our infertility will always be there. But it's just that now....a scar. It's not a wound, it's a reminder of where we are currently in our life and the path that has led us here. And I'm thankful for it, because it has shaped us into who we are and the people that we will become.