It is no secret to those that know me well that getting pregnant was not the simple thing I figured it would be. I always joked that God could not have given me these wide birthing hips without being able to have a baby. But let me tell you, that joke was really a cover up for wanting to cry at every turn; especially in your mid thirties. Everyone at work, in the grocery store or neighborhood seems to be pregnant when you can’t have a baby. Every baby shower is agony. My heart still hurts for those friends and acquaintances who were unable to have children or have a desperately wanted second child. To those friends, I see you, love you and I still pray for your hearts to find peace.
To those of you who have had one or more miscarriages, I also pray your hearts find peace. That is a lonely place and the memories of feeling helpless can still make me tear up – nope actually full on cry. Having passed the first trimester mark we had picked out a name, and when I hear the name, it still catches me a little off guard. Not only do you blame yourself for the miscarriage, you play a story in your head of your partner and others also thinking you are broken. Of course, being married to the absolute best man in the world, that was so far from the truth. I am sure the hormone crash doesn’t help the situation at the time of the miscarriage either. Having a sister living near by was such a blessing and I don’t know that I ever really thanked her enough for scooping in and taking care of my son and holding me with complete understanding.
We need to talk about infertility and miscarriages more openly and let one another know it is normal but it still remains challenging because not everyone really wants to hear about uncomfortable things. Talking about it can create a network of support and understanding just like how those who have lost a parent have an unwritten bond. In talking about our loss or fertility challenges, we can let chosen friends and family take care of us and in turn be there for others. Acceptance is still something I need to practice. In an attempt to be stoic, I end up with resting bitch face and a clenched jaw. It is hard to accept kindness when you put all of your energy trying to look like you have it all together. Time, reflection and acceptance always helps bring perspective and healing and sometimes it takes longer than I realized it would. Sometimes I didn’t know I was in the middle of “it” until I had finally gotten out to the other side. But on the other side, I can now articulate the lessons the journey has taught and the love that always surrounds me.