On April 12, 2011 James and I official started trying again. On April 23, I got my period. I was thankful for that. I know most of you reading this probably cringe and find anger building up inside of you because I’ve said that. But, please give me a moment to explain. Firstly, I’m scared. I’m scared that this entire process is going to start over again where I get my hopes up and then things proceed to drag on for months with an end result of an empty womb. Obviously, that fear does not supersede my desire to be a mother however, I am not eager to start trying again. I keep wanting to put it off for various reasons. The bottom line is fear. Secondly, I’ve finally become a part of something. A group, a section of women to relate to. For a long time, I had wanted to get pregnant to fit in a little bit more. If I have a child then I would be invited to play groups and be able to socialize with the other women while our kids run around. I know it sounds dumb but I thought that was my “in”. Now, I’ve found myself in a position of greater need. These women all feel the same way I’ve felt around mothers and their children: alone. I’ve made friends with women and connected with them over our common struggle with infertility. I’m scared of losing those friendships. I’ve prayed numerous times that if it were between me and my friend to get a baby, I want my friend to have it. I know that’s not how God works. But, as much as I want a child, I want my friends who have been struggling with infertility for years to have a child more.
I know that outlook isn’t quite fair to my husband so alas, we are trying again.
May 9, 2011
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. It was the first time in my life where I actually paid attention to Mother’s Day on a deeper level. I went to church with my parents. When Jessica and I had gotten together a few weeks ago, we talked about the upcoming holiday. Jessica said that she hated going to church because they always had the mothers stand up and it just killed her. I was waiting for that to happen. Thankfully, the pastor asked for all women of all ages to stand up. He had the entire congregation pray over us and James held my hand while we prayed. I think James felt something. Maybe it was a sadness that I wasn’t celebrating being a mom and only a month away from having our little maybe baby. I always think about that now, the fact that I would be so close to having the baby at this point. Each little landmark that I see happen with the two other women who got pregnant at the same time as me, I put myself there saying, “That would have been me.” I would have had a baby shower a few weeks ago. I would be preparing the nursery right now. I would be huge and tired and uncomfortable and loving that I could feel my baby moving around inside of me every single day. Sometimes I let my mind wander there. But mostly, I know better. It doesn’t bring Maybe back and it doesn’t change the now.
Instead I try to dwell on the positive and drink as much coffee as possible and post it on Facebook and think “haha! I get to enjoy this extra large cappuccino and you pregnant ladies can’t!” No, I don’t really think that. But…well, maybe a little.
A few weeks ago, I noticed a picture posted on Facebook of a familiar looking blob of black, white, and gray. Another girl pregnant. Another girl pregnant with her second child and telling the world at only a month along. I shake my head in astonishment and awe that someone could be so confident. She’s due December 6th. At the time, it was April 19th. One month. Some girls are so lucky. I hope they realize how blessed they are to have no complications, no stresses with a pregnancy, no fears of losing a child. But I know they don’t. How can they? A healthy pregnancy is all they know and, I have to admit, I would be pretty taken back if all someone dwelt on was the fear of losing the child.
November 29, 2011
Last night was the annual TWLOHA Christmas Party/Intern dinner. Usually about 20-30 people come together for a night of recognizing the hard work the interns did during their term with the company. Most of the time, the dinner ends in happy tears and “see you soon”s, Jamie, the founder and Jessica’s brother, is always at the dinners. He tends to get up after all the fun has died down and give a somber speech about “our stories”. He always wants to “say a little something” which James and I realized that in Tworkowski language that means no less than a 15 minute speech. However, last night was very sweet.
After Jamie said some words about the interns and their hard work, he turned his attention to his sister. He said some words about how proud he was of her and her strength to get through the difficult years of trying to conceive and I couldn’t agree with him more. Jessica has been an amazing woman, both going through some major emotional struggles as well as running her brother’s entire company.
After Jamie said his piece, Jessica spoke up about the connection between TWLOHA and her story. She said that for three years, her and her husband, Sean, were silent about their struggle with infertility. They dealt with it on their own and didn’t like to talk about it with anyone. It was too difficult and painful to let people in. To Write is all about opening up the conversation of depression, suicide, addiction, etc. but what about the other types of pain? Jessica and Sean were going through something that brought them depression and a lack of hope, shouldn’t they also abide by the motto of To Write? It took Jessica those several years to come to the realization that, although she couldn’t much relate to others story of depression or addiction personally, she could relate to the pain. That is when she and Sean decided to allow people to be a part of their story.
There are only four married couples in the TWLOHA family, all of which have struggled in one way or another with infertility. Last year at the Christmas Party, Jessica said to me, “Next year at this time, hopefully, we will both have baby bumps!” Of course, we had both hoped that for each other and for ourselves but it was something pretty hard to believe would come true. What happened if one of us got pregnant and not the other? I secretly prayed every night for it to be Jessica who gets pregnant between the two of us. I was so scared of the sadness it would cause her if I got pregnant and she didn’t.
But by some miracle that only could be orchestrated by God, Jessica and I had our baby bumps that next year at the Christmas dinner. Only nine days apart. A 100% miracle. God is so amazing. In the same breath, you can’t help but think “why now”?