I have always know that I was not a lucky person. Good things don't happen to me, I have to Make them happen for me.
When I got pregnant with my daughter it was an accumulation of almost 15 years of my life spent trying for just that one chance to parent a biological child. 15 years of crying myself to sleep and begging God and/or the powers that be to just give me a chance to know the feeling of a child moving in tune to my heart, sharing my body, and then sharing the rest of my life. I didn't get lucky when I got pregnant, I worked my ass off to get pregnant. I have never for one minute taken any job more seriously then the one that I undertook when I started trying to fulfil my dream of motherhood. I did it all, IUI's IVF's, FET's. It wasn't easy, it was heartbreaking. It was a very lonely road to walk because most if not all of my IRL friends were as fertile as the spring. But, I worked hard, and I got what I wanted.
So, imagine my surprise when twice this year, I mearly had sex with my husband at just the right time, and conceived two little miracles. No one can imagine the pain that has settled in my soul at losing those two little lives, unless they have been there. Do I consider myself lucky that I got pregnant on my own? Hell no. Look how that turned out for me. I have two deep gashes in my heart and soul that will never heal. I will forever wonder what those two lives could have become, what potential they carried in their cells. I will never feel the movement under my heart. I will never hear their first cries, smell their hair, or hold their tiny little hands in mine. I will never get to watch them do any firsts, or watch Lauryn play with her missing siblings. I have lost a lifetime of memories with two people I didn't even know, and it will never stop hurting for as long as I live.
I guess where I am going with this is to respond to a comment on my last post. I count my blessings everyday of my life, and I never expected to hear someone tell me on my blog to do just that, because some people aren't even lucky enough to have one baby... I know that. I know all about listening to women sob who can't have, or don't have a child, and feeling my heart breaking for them. I sat on the fence for almost half of my life, I NEVER take my daughter for granted. I only have that little girl because I fought my ass off for her, and to say or suggest that I don't know what I have is just, well, asinine. I realize that you may not have meant it like I am taking it, but really, I am gutted right now from the disaster that has been my life for the last year, not to mention the last week, and then you want to utter a phrase that truly discounts my current grief, I don't appreciate it.
I won't play the pain game here because I know that you can't get past where you are in your IF journey, and I totally understand that. But I can tell you that from where I stand secondary infertility has been harder on me then the whole of my journey to my daughter. I KNOW what I am missing now, and I feel like a junky sometimes in my need to get that back. It is a desire that honestly beats out my initial one to have a child period. Ask anyone trying for a second or even third after a fierce battle with infertility, and I bet you will hear the same answer more then once.
So PLEASE do not think that I do not cherish every minute with my daughter with ever fiber of my being, I do. I also however hold every conception that I have close to my heart, and love each one with my whole soul. Just allow me to grieve this loss as you would allow any normal person the same consideration, I am no different because I am Infertile.
What’s the word for one step past kintsukuroi?
6 hours ago