Wow! It has been one year since I started Life As I Know It. It’s a birthday, of sorts, for me. When I first started writing here, I just thought it would be a fun way for me to connect with other people. A good outlet when I was having a bad day. A way for me to have some “me time” throughout the week. And it has been all of those things. I appreciate each and every one of you who has shared in any part of this journey with me!
Today should be a day of celebration and good news! But, first, let me share a story with you…..
A year and a half ago, my husband and I decided that it was time for us to have another baby. We hadn’t been married for very long, but we are both in our early 30s and didn’t really want to wait. We each have a child from previous relationships and we figured it might take a couple of months, but it wouldn’t be too difficult, right? Wrong. I won’t go into all of the painful details but it was far from easy. There were doctors visits, test after test, invasive procedures, medications, and never a guarantee that any of it would work. There were tears, disappointments, negative pregnancy tests, insecurities, and fear. It put a strain on our marriage. It was one of the reasons that our marriage completely fell apart for a couple of months.
There was so much devastation. Broken dreams that seemed as if they would never become a reality. Each of us, without really consulting with the other, had all but given up on the possibility that we would be able to have another child. The sympathy that I have for people who cannot conceive, or struggle to do so, now knows no bounds. It is something that can never be explained to anyone who hasn’t felt it. I know people who have spent years and years wondering if they will ever be blessed with a child to call their own. And some never will. Our other two children are such immense blessings to us. We wanted to add to our family with a child we created together. A representation of the love we had found in each other. I cannot imagine the pain of never having a child. Secondary infertility carries its own hurt as well.
It is a very personal, very lonely, very painful kind of hell. It is a place where you can’t help but feel as if you are all alone. As if no one can possibly understand your heartbreak or provide comfort for your tears. As if there are no words to describe your disappointment. As if your dreams are laying, scattered, at your feet. You know that you’ll find a way to cope with it. You just don’t know when. Every week, every month that passes seems like forever.
And then one day, I woke up and realized that I hadn’t felt right for a few weeks. I was tired and I didn’t have much of an appetite. I was so nervous. I’d been here before. I’d been under stress, or just caught a bug, or something and thought to myself, “Maybe….” This time, I was afraid to go there. I waited a few more days. Still the same. So, I did it. I took the test. And then I sat it on the sink and walked away from it. And I prayed. I prayed for the strength to look at another negative. I prayed for peace. I walked back into the bathroom, took a couple of deep breaths and looked. Then there were no breaths. I couldn’t. Tears immediately fell from my eyes. I couldn’t even smile. I just stared. And blinked; hard. And stared again. Then, I believe everything was a jumbled series of laughing and spinning in circles and crying. Positive.
Telling my husband was a moment I hope I never forget. There was so much joy in that room. I’m surprised our home could contain it all. Our families and friends are excited. Our children are thrilled. I am on cloud 9. (When I’m not a hormonal, emotional, grouchy mess…… well, honestly, even then.) Our family will soon be complete. I have been blessed with a miracle. One that I will forever be so, so grateful for. And that is a reason to celebrate!