Dear “Infertile” Friend,
I know you’re struggling. I don’t understand the struggle, but I’m watching from the outside. I see your posts, your prayers, your “likes” on the pictures of my babies.
Before I got pregnant with my firstborn, I was diagnosed with PCOS. I was uneducated when it came to anything pertaining to infertility. After bloodwork and tests, and an ultrasound showing 50-60 cysts almost covering my ovaries, I sat down with my doctor.
“We will get you a baby. You will carry a baby. I’ll do all that I can to ensure it.” The words I heard from Dr. Kim Hardey – a man I’ll consider an angel always. (He also told me that I reminded him of a butterfly, and that earned him some extra points, too).
Two babies later, I was obviously not “infertile”, but it did take months and medicines. And Dr. Hardey.
And I did at least have answers.
I understand that those are blessings.
But after the sit down with Dr. Hardey, I went straight to my car to call my mom and my husband. I could hardly get words out. I couldn’t catch my breath because I thought my time may never come. While I do not compare what I temporarily went through to your journey, I did feel a glimpse of your fear, the frustration, the questions, the unknown.
I know that you’re waiting. Waiting for answers. Waiting to catch your breath. For another month, another test, and praying that next month brings different news. You’re waiting for your turn. Waiting for your time to come.
I want you to know that you don’t deserve this heartache – this weight of waiting. Since I’ve known you (which is a very long time), you’ve always taken care of everyone around you. You were born to love others. You were born with a natural, effortless maternal instinct, and your time to love your own little one will come.
- I wait with you.
- I pray with you.
- I hope with you.
- I thank you.
Thank you for being open about your journey. Thank you for loving all of the babies that you do…while you’re yearning for your own. Thank you for knowing that I won’t always know the right things to say, even though I try. You’re going to be an amazing mom – no matter how you get to that title. The title of “mom” will. be. yours. Until then…please know that I’m waiting with you, that I’m waiting for you.
And know that I can’t wait to celebrate him or her with you one day.