Puffy Eyes

By: Rosy Barren


I stayed up all night and watched the sunrise in the morning for the first time in my adult life.  My eyes were puffy as I hiked alongside my wife in Griffith Park.  I had spent the whole night sobering up and by morning was calculating my next move.  The rising sun was too bright for spirit, too happy for my soul yet it was my re-birth, my chance to change the fate of my heart.  I had no control over my situation, I can’t make my body become pregnant, no matter how hard I try, but I can tame my heart, I can maintain my happiness through all the ensuing chaos.  As my eyes got heavier throughout the night I fell into a deeper hole of resentment for allowing myself to get lost in the quest for a child.  I have become a puppet to my infertility.  I am dancing around doctors, medication, schedules, work and smiling throughout, a fake cheery, rosy-cheeked smile- to tell the world, I’m strong and I can take anything, I’m OK.

I learned last night that I’m not, I’m a tiny speck in a huge universe that is spinning myself into a deep depression and it’s got to stop.  I made a plan, a plan that had nothing to do with creating a child.  I thought about myself for the first time in 2 years, what do I want?  What do I need- to get through the day?  I woke my wife and we got our coffees at 5AM, drove to the observatory and walked until the day began.  We were no longer 2 broken people in a broken relationship struggling aimlessly for something just beyond our reach- we were back- hand-in hand, together finding our way.

[photo credit: Fickr- Easylanish]

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