After amazing news last week from my yearly MRI, I am finally taking a few steps off of my cloud. I am the kind of person that celebrates what life hands you, always taking a moment to reflect and cherish the path that got me to where I am. So after good wine and vineyard visits it is time to get back to beating MS. Remember, it is the no days off life until the magical words come out of my neurologist's mouth, "Meredith, your MS is in remission." Until that day, my promise to myself is to wake up and go to sleep with with one goal, beat MS.

As I come down from my cloud, reality has started to set in for me and what I want the future to look like. I have never, and I mean never ever, imagined being a mom until the past few years. It just wasn't something I felt like was in my DNA. I love your kids, let's just put that out there, I love them so much like they are my own, but for me the urge just hasn't been there. Over the past two(ish) years it has started to show some promise, I have had flashes of wanting to start a family with my person. Those flashes happened to be when I was pregnant if I am being totally honest. As the weeks of pregnancy have gone on, I envisioned us as parents...the trips we would take, the picnics we would have, how much I would crumble when I saw Jaggs with our #babyjaggs, because he is meant to be a father, and just as I got comfortable with the idea it has been ripped out from under us. Twice.

Both miscarriages have brought pain and heartache that only Jaggs and I will ever know. The thing about miscarriages is that they are so personal and raw that it is hard to want anyone to be there for you because "they won't understand" and I think that is okay to feel those feels. Let that emotion be yours and your partners, don't let anyone on the island until you are ready. Then slowly lower the bridge and let people on one at a time. Miscarriages are so personal and written in only our own personal language. It feels so hard for anyone else to understand the language even if they have been through it before. Only I speak my language, so let me speak it, and you just listen (that is how I have felt).

For me, the first miscarriage didn't make an impact, because I didn't really know that an ectopic pregnancy existed, so I went through the motions and did what my doctor told us to do. When it was over I moved on with my life and didn't look back, I didn't want to hold on to any memory of that time period in my life. The second miscarriage haunts me when my life is quiet, when I am still. It haunts me that the last words I said to my coworkers was "be right back, have to go check on #babyjaggs, will bring new pictures." It haunts me to remember the color drain out of Jaggs face when the nurse kept trying to find a heartbeat. It haunts me that I thought life was handing us Portland, a family, and a way to beat MS when we made the decision to move. It haunts me that we videoed telling my in-laws they were going to be grand parents and I haven't deleted it from my phone yet. It haunts me that I still get f$cking emails from the baby app I downloaded and have unsubscribed a thousands times. And it haunts me most that I finally wanted a family and it went away without my permission.

The reason that this is fresh on my mind on this stunningly beautiful fall day in Oregon is that good news about MS has historically meant pregnancy for us. After good scans we have felt like my health is under control so we can try for a family. The good news last week has filled me every emotion possible, but the one that keeps haunting me is the thoughts of "is it time to try again." And I don't know if it is. You see, I love me more. I want to beat MS more. I want to beat MS and I want to beat it with every being of my soul. I already know what you want to tell me, I have MS and I have a family. Don't worry, you will be fine. Everyone has miscarriages and now I have a beautiful family. Worrying makes it worse, just let time tell the story. I have a great doctor you can use. Have faith. Pray. Think happy thoughts.

But y'all, I am scared.

I am scared to try again and be heartbroken. I am scared to actually be pregnant. I am scared to give birth with the chance that my MS will will cause a huge flare up. I am scared to not be able to give Jaggs the family that he deserves. I am scared to not be selfish. I am scared I will be a crappy mom. I am scared I would turn into a shitty wife. I am scared out of my fucking mind.

The scariness led me to another option, adoption. I have always wanted to adopt a child. I haven't ever wanted to have a baby, but adoption has always felt different. And so I started to do research this week and what that may look like. The kids up for adoption in Oregon made my heart melt and a spark was lit. But as I started to read about them and what they were looking for in parents a theme kept coming across the screen...they love the outdoors, to play outside, hikes, fishing, and camping. And the tears started to fall as the MS reminded me that I can't do those things at the moment. Yes, I had great scans and yes I am making huge progress, but I get tired and can't run after someone and need to take naps because I can't keep my eyes open after a big outing. I can't tell you what tomorrow is going to feel like with MS. The tears of reality fell hard and I felt for a moment stuck. Stuck between wanting to have a family with Jaggs and caring more about myself and my abilities to be a parent.

At dinner that night I told Jaggs how I had been feeling. I told him that I do want a family with him, but that I am scared. The feeling of letting him/us down again was too much for me to imagine. He gently put his hand on mine and said "let's just live for a bit, Meredith. Our family will come and if it doesn't I will love our life together, forever."

And just like that the ghost of miscarriages past vanished.

At the end of the day, what is hardest for me is that this is something I can't control. I can't do what I am doing with MS and fight every single day, doing everything I know how to do to make it better. I can't work my ass off and move across the country and change my life style to make this happen. And that is hard for me, to give up control. To trust in the process. To just be. But there are thousands that have come before me and thousands that are going to come after me that have done just that. So I will be, I will trust, and I will continue to live our life until our family grows. And if it is just me and my Jaggs, then consider me the happiest person in the world. For now, it is just us and that feels fabulous.