From My Heart

It’s that time of year where people look back over the last year and reflect on their blessings, while looking forward to the next with hope and promises of new tucked away in their pockets and hearts. Social media is littered with it- photo collages, lists, dreams, inspirational quotes, and favorite memories. And for the life of me I just can’t chime in.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for my blessings; indeed, I feel like they’re what’s kept me going these last days. But I’m struggling to feel something other than sadness. Struggling to find something that sounds good to eat, but thankful for a husband who stuffs me full of food anyways and has been cooking our meals. Struggling to get dressed, but thankful I have a closet full of things to wear. Struggling to leave the house, but appreciative of the wonderful job I have and a well-kept vehicle to get me there. But still, through everything, I’m struggling.

I never really expected a positive result on our first round of IVF. It happens, but it’s rare, so I held back hope. And then it was there. Staring me in the face. And my hope snuck up on me and bloomed full-force in my heart.

“Mama loves you, baby,” I quietly crooned. “Just keep growing, okay?”  I whispered while I marveled at our miracle. And I dreamed of our future as a family. But then, for reasons we don’t know, it just slipped away- right through our fingers and the nest of dreams I’d stitched together.

This has been one of the hardest times of my life and taking place during the holiday season has only intensified it. I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at or be excited for the blessings of others- the photos of beautiful children, new homes, and babies expected in 2013. For the first time in my life, I haven’t been able to bear the thought of holding a baby. The soft skin, sweet smell, and the small features are just too much of a reminder of our loss.  I’ve walked away crying after seeing the radiant glow and showing shape of pregnant friends. How can I be excited for someone else’s joys when I’m so lost in the grief of my own? How can I expect a woman who’s never struggled to get pregnant, or who’s never had a miscarriage, to understand the devastating loss of hope??? I feel like I’m left full of questions that never come with answers.

How is it that someone who wants a child more than anything- and for so long- can’t have a baby, yet other women abort their unwanted babies every day? I recently read a news story of a mother giving birth and leaving her baby to die in a field. My already broken heart breaks even more because there are programs in place to drop your baby off in a safe place with no questions asked, and yet instead this mother left her infant cold and abandoned in an empty field to slowly die. When your heart cries out at the loss of a hard-earned pregnancy and meanwhile other mother’s are simply throwing their children away, I can’t accept that “life is not fair.”

I cry and wonder how I can do this again. How I can do the shots, and pain, and side effects, and exams, and travel, and being away from Matt, and uncertainty, and cost, and devastation…and yet I know that I will because we have no other natural choice.

It’s hard to put this out there, especially to share from my heart and have people not read it, and then ask questions that are upsetting and hurtful. So I’m thinking about not going further with sharing this publicly and keeping our next round private whenever that time comes. The support that I’ve received from so many of you has been so helpful though that I’m reluctant to do so and haven’t decided quite yet. With that, I do want to say a big THANK YOU to those who have sent texts, private messages, and personal hugs to let me know you’re thinking of us and praying for our family. They’ve meant the world to me and helps me feel less alone during this time of struggle and loss.