This isn't about losing weight. This isn't about recovering from pregnancy. This is about taking back something I haven't owned in a long time.
3 years. For 3 solid years, I've walked into doctors offices, dropped my pants, and had strangers poke and prod me in every undignified way a person can be poked and prodded.
With the exception of one more post partum medical exam in about a month, I finally get to regain ownership of my body. I don't think I realized what a toll it was taking to have so little control over simply getting to choose who would get to have access to my body every day. My body and I separated as entities, my body dragging me around from place to place that it had to get to for various appointments to be subjected to various indignities, and I waited for it to finish so it could take me someplace I actually wanted to go. But now, finally, my body is only going to go where I want it to go, and it's only going to be accessed by people of my own choosing. It belongs to me again.
Maybe that's what's really signalling the end of this particular infertility journey. I might have another one if we decide to try for another child in the future, but this journey is now over. I know, the poopy diapers and constant bottle washing should signal the end, but that's not really the case. That signals the start of a whole new journey.