When I was struggling with infertility, I remember feeling left behind when my TTC sisters would get pregnant. It always seemed like they’d forgotten the pain and moved on…while I was still sitting in the same place with empty arms. I hated that feeling.
I want you to know that I’ll never forget. I’ll never forget the agony and heartache of infertility. I’ll never forget the sobbing can’t-catch-your-breath tears and sleepless emotional nights. I’ll never forget the difficult decisions and deep sorrow after each loss. I’ll never forget the fear in the pit of my stomach…fear that I would never know the love that exists between a mother and her child and never find happiness again. I’ll never forget the darkness that existed during the longest six years of my life. And I’ll never forget those of you who are still in the trenches… trying month after month to conceive your miracle babies.
The truth is that I’ve had a hard time finding my voice in this space lately. My past posts were all born out of my sorrow and struggle. Pain inspires more than happiness. I haven’t written because I don’t want this space to become “just another mommy blog”. Lord knows there are enough of those out there already.
I still intend to share my journey through motherhood. However, I feel compelled to continue to be a part of this community. To be a cheerleader. A dear friend. Maybe even a beacon of hope for some of you who feel alone and are on the verge of giving up on your dreams.
A very wise friend said to me the other day, “you have to find the way to keep writing because your blog isn’t about you.”
Say what? It’s not.
“No, he said. It’s bigger than that. It is about your readers. And they still need you to write and offer your perspective as someone who’s endured so much and overcome a huge obstacle in your life.”
So at 5AM, I’m sitting in my dark bedroom, stealing the only free moments of my day to write. To tell you…. you are not alone. You will find happiness again. There is a baby monitor beside me and I’m waiting for a little boy to cry for me. ME! His mommy.
There were so many days and nights that I worried this day would never come. But it has. It’s real. This is my life. The dirty diapers. The pumping and feeding. Juggling work and family. Drying his tears and reveling in his smiles. Everything we went through to get here was worth it because he is our world.
My plea to you is not to give up. Your sunshine could be just around the next bend. Keep going. After each failure, I wanted to give up. Throw in the towel. To crawl under my covers and never come out. But I just put one foot in front of the other and kept going. Through prayer and determination, I hope that all of you who want to become mommies are able to achieve your dreams.
Baby dust to all of you!