Infertility, I've got you in my sights.

Last year, I turned 27. I had just been diagnosed. For my birthday, I needed to reclaim some of what I had lost. I had captioned my birthday last year as "Guns. Massage. Meat on Swords." And I did all of those things. My husband was sweet enough to get me a spa package. We went to a Brazilian BBQ with a big group of our friends.

Oh, and that whole "Guns" bit? Larry took me to the firing range and I fired a gun for the first time in my life. I've always wanted to and it just felt like the right time last year. Your thoughts on gun laws aside, this was a neat life experience for me. On the eve of turning 28, I wanted to reflect a little on the experience from last year, because it's been one helluva ride.

This is me, firing a Walther .22. Why, I'm a veritable James Bond. Nothing says badass like a butterfly wing t-shirt from Hot Topic. As I lined up my sight on the target, sweating and trying not to hyperventilate before I pulled a trigger for the first time in my life, I imagined exactly what I was shooting at:

Infertility.

The first bullet I ever fired was aimed squarely at it. I told myself that there was no way in hell I was ever going to let my infertility beat me.

And damn if I didn't let it this year.

Here's the thing: I am terrified of guns. Just to go to the shooting range and be so close to other people firing, as well as just seeing guns on the tables... it nearly sickened me. One of my biggest paranoid fears is getting shot. It's not like I live in an urban center (or ever have really; I'm a child of the suburbs) but I've always been legit paranoid of getting shot all my life. The act of firing a gun is incredibly powerful, sensually so: the slam of the hammer and feeling the recoil shoot back through your body, the sound of a small sonic boom reverberating so hard you feel it in your chest, the quick flash like a candid camera moment, and the intoxicating smell of gunpowder. By holding a gun, I was confronting a huge fear of mine. By firing it and directing it toward the thing I fear more than guns and being shot- not being able to have children- it was probably one of the most liberating things I've done.

Am I saying you should go out and shoot your infertility? No, not at all. Some people aren't into guns... like myself. I haven't been back to the firing range since. Why? Well, it was fun for an afternoon, but on the ride home, I had a panic attack, the first in a long time. All of the adrenalin and anxiety that had built up all day finally came out in a spectacular show of a racing pulse, tears, and near hyperventilation. I might have good aim (thank you Modern Warfare and years of first-person shooters), but I'm not a recreational shooter. I'm not the newest member of the NRA by any stretch of the imagination. This outing allowed me to cross something off my bucket list and to confront two major fears: guns and infertility.

Even if you don't go out to a firing range and write infertility on a paper target and shoot at it until it's torn to shreds, you can still put infertility in your sights. You can still duke it out Old West style in the Main Drag in your mind, draw your line, and fire. I made my ultimatum to infertility last year and I think I've kept good on my promise to myself.

It's taken a year for me to blow the smoke from the barrel of my gun and put it back in my holster. Now the real work begins. There's a new Sheriff in town, and she intends to clean this place up. The click of my heels and the jingle of my spurs echo in the street, my feet walking with a new found confidence, with a goal in sight.

On my birthday tomorrow, I intend to blaze a trail in my twenty-eighth year.