This is my first post this week in honor of National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW). This year's theme is: Don't Ignore...
Don't Ignore My Grief Over The Child I Long For
This may not make sense to someone who hasn't experienced infertility, but I grieve for a child that has never existed. I cry over the holidays that I am not celebrating with my child, over the memories that we aren't making together, and I grieve the feeling that it is my fault that the child in my heart doesn't already have a heartbeat of their own. I also grieve the fact that my best friend's child and my niece and nephew won't be close enough in age to my child to become close friends. I grieve the dream of what I thought my life would look like right now.
Let me give you a few examples of what my life looks like right now vs. what I thought it would when I started trying to conceive.
1) Every day I pass an empty room. Its walls are a very pale yellow and there are cream colored curtains that help keep it dark. This is my child's room, but my child isn't in it. There is no crib, no changing table, no toys, no crying, and no laughter. Every time I pass this room it is a painful reminder of the child that I long for.
2) When I go to the grocery store I see moms with their little children searching for the best grocery deals so that they can feed their growing family. I search for the best deals so that I can save as much money as possible for the treatments it could take just to get me pregnant.
3) I see beautiful pictures of children and babies every day on Facebook. These pictures are bittersweet. I am happy for the families in them, but I cry wishing that I could post pictures like those of me, my husband, and our child.
Those are just a few examples of what I go through daily. I grieve for my child. I need you to understand how painful this missing piece is for me. I need you to acknowledge that this grief exists and to ask me how I'm doing. I may or may not want to talk about it, but it will mean the world to me just to know that you cared enough to ask.