I have been back and forth on this blog for a few days. Finding the words sometimes, though it may shock some people to know, it’s hard. To articulate something that would be helpful.
What I want to post after 13 years of trying is hope that it gets better and a survival guide. The truth is. I can’t do that. I just can’t.
Sometimes my thick skin gets me by. I don’t hurt and I can even function and celebrate with our mums as it’s their day too. But then some times, like this year, it feels like I want to curl into a little ball and hide in my bed, and just wake up when it’s done. I’m so angry.
The crazy thing is I haven’t ever been so close to our goal of ivf, for the first time I am loosing the weight I need to. Only 24lbs to go!!
We have a day to celebrate those women in our lives that have provided for us, protected us and loved us unconditionally and that is a wonderful thing. The sting for women like me is that I could do that. I would love our children. Protect them. Provide for them. The cruel twist of fate preventing that, the weight of the lost heartbeats that I carried within me, it stings. It more than stings. Some times it cripples me.
I know not everyone will get it. How could they. It’s just one day, for some a silly hallmark moment to cost us money. To me it’s more than that. It’s a celebration of how truly amazing women are. We create life with our partners, life created out of love (mainly :-/) it feels like a moment to reflect on how much I feel like I’m failing. How incredibly broken I am no matter how big my smile is.
How very empty my arms are, where my babies should be. Like an incomplete jigsaw.
No hand made cards from school, no flowers, no breakfast in bed made by giggling children.
For a lot of the year I can focus on what we do have. There will always be tough moments. But this one day. A day just for mother’s. I’m not OK.
I wish more than anything I could find the words to comfort those of you out there struggling with this day too. All I can do is tell you that you aren’t alone. As I always. I’m here walking with you.
If on Sunday you have a moment where you can’t cope, you want to cry, that ever present lump causing the familiar ache in the back of your throat, I’m standing with you. I’m shedding tears for us too.
I hope that you have family or friends around you for comfort, that even if they can’t know how you feel they can lend a shoulder or a hug to share that burden if only for a moment.
I hope that some of you can find a peace and get through the day however you need to. Even if it means ignoring it all together.
More than anything…. I hope for all of us. It’s our last one in pain. I wish that more than anything.
Sending love and hugs to you all ❤️❤️❤️