on happy endings

There are three notable anniversaries in my life this week. Two-thirds of them suck.

Yesterday, 12/9, was the one-month anniversary of The Worst Day Ever- the day we lost our daughter-to-be (I find that I don't really know how to refer to her. Can I call her our daughter? She was for two and a half days. But halfway through November 9, she ceased being so. So I don't know what to call her. And saying her name makes me cry). For obvious reasons, this is a sucky anniversary.

Thursday, 12/12, will be my 31st birthday. I hope it will be a good day. I like birthdays and presents and feeling special. So it will probably be a happy day of celebration.

Thursday, 12/12, will also be the five-year anniversary of our 'trying to conceive' journey. Five years. Done. Nothing to show for it. December 13 will be my SIXTH CONSECUTIVE DECEMBER 13 of trying to be a mom. Obviously this is a terrible, terrible anniversary. One I never EVER thought I'd be 'celebrating.' Good grief. If you ever hear that someone plans to start TTCing on their birthday-- DO ANYTHING YOU CAN TO STOP THEM. Don't let them ruin their birthday for the rest of their lives (assuming their journey goes as poorly as mine has). Oh, to be so young and naive again...

I was thinking about this last night. This long stupid 'journey' (to put it nicely). Five years...and no happy ending. And then I thought about happy endings. And how much everyone loves them. And how it's what you root for, hope for, and long for. My 'happy ending' would be a child-- or better yet, more than one. It's the end goal. And obviously, assuming I ever reach the goal...it's not the end of anything. Maybe just a long-awaited conclusion to but one of the 'story arcs' in my life. But right now it's the only happy ending I can imagine. And once I get it, I know more struggles will come and there will be new journeys and new challenges and I'll have new happy endings to set my sights on. But right now, and for the last five years, it's been the only one I want.

But not every story has a happy ending. And I'm not saying that to be depressing or woe is me. But it's true. I started thinking, and I realized that many- if not most- of my favorite stories actually DON'T have happy endings. And yet they're still my favorite stories.

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Did you watch Lost? It's one of my favorite shows ever. EVER. One of the best stories ever, I think. If you've never watched, here's what you need to know: the story begins with a seemingly simple problem- a huge plane crashes onto an island. The people want to get off the island. But as the episodes unfold, over seasons and years, there are layers and layers and LAYERS and PILES OF LAYERS of mystery, coincidences, stories, backstories, random stories that go nowhere, more mysteries, characters...all this stuff builds and builds. There are so many storylines that you forget what the original question even was. There are characters that seem major and then they just disappear (off the island and the story). There are questions that never get answered. But somehow the writers keep making you think that somehow it all ties together. Somehow there are answers to all of the questions, and somehow it's all going to make sense in the end. And so we pressed on through seasons and seasons of amazing storytelling...enjoying each episode as it happened. Anxiously awaiting what would happen next. And dying to know what it all meant. 

I couldn't wait for the series finale. I couldn't wait for it all to be unveiled, to figure out how it all worked. To know the meaning of a million different disconnected pieces...to see what the puzzle turned out to be.

And then the finale came, and it sucked. I mean, it was okay. But it pretty much sucked. It didn't answer our questions. It maybe even opened up a few new ones. And so all these things we'd been waiting and waiting to see some resolution about...it didn't happen. We didn't get our happy ending.

And yet...it's the best TV series I've ever seen. Even though there was no happy ending. The show was still worth it. I can watch it now, and even though I know that my questions aren't going to get answered...that I'll never know why this particular storyline appeared and then disappeared...why this character did this or that...well, it doesn't really matter. I know there's no happy ending now, but it's still a damn good story. 

All my favorite young adult dystopian novels? Great stories, crappy endings. Love 'em anyway. At least in my books and movies, I've grown to appreciate the fact that great stories don't always have happy endings. Do I prefer happy endings? Absolutely, without a doubt, hands down YES. But the lack of a happy ending doesn't mean that a story sucks. Some stories have a higher purpose than to make the reader feel good at the end, I guess.

And so now I've compared my own life to award-winning TV shows and novels...because I guess it's another attempt to convince myself that my lack of 'happy endings' in my own life doesn't mean that my life isn't or can't be meaningful. My story doesn't have to suck just because my obvious goal hasn't been reached. And when I look at a particular 'story arc,' like our failed adoption, I always want to know what the point of it was. Why did we go through that if it was all for nothing? Why couldn't we have never heard about that baby? Why couldn't the mom have never considered adoption or picked us? And I hate story lines like that. Well, I hate them when I'm the one that has to live through them. But I'm trying to remind myself that not every story, or even story-within-a-story, has a happy ending. But it's okay. The overall tale can still be meaningful-- even beautiful-- even with dissatisfying stories within.

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So I'll embark on another year of life. Another year of trying to have a family of 3+. Another month without our sweet baby. And I'll try to remember. Happy endings are nice...but even without them, life can be beautiful.