14 May

This weekend was hard. Much harder than I expected it to be. Mother’s Day always sucks for the infertiles and this one was no different, but yet, it was. It was much more of an emotional, anxiety-ridden clusterf*ck.

Didn’t help that I was in the wedding of one of my best friends, already setting myself up for emotional heaviness (in a good way, but still). Didn’t help that my mom was in town to babysit the dog and to celebrate Mother’s Day with me, making it impossible to forget it was happening like I wanted to do. Especially didn’t help that during the reception, the bride’s new 2-year-old niece, cute as a button, decided to make me her new best friend. She just came over to me on the dance floor, put her arms up, and from that point on didn’t want to let go of me. Even when her mommy (25, 3 kids, gorgeous, skinny, happily married – wah!) tried taking her away, she curled her little fingers around my arm and continued reaching out for me even as she was carted away. They thought she was bothering me, and it’s true my arms were aching from holding her and dancing, but my heart was aching so much more and something in me broke.

I wanted her. In the least creepy sense possible, I wanted to go off and snuggle her close and kiss her face and tell her stories and teach her lessons and show her the world. Each time after they’d take her away (she kept finding me, again and again), I’d dance with DH and bury my face in his beautiful shoulder and cry. Cry for everything we’ve been through, cry for everything we want and don’t know if we’ll ever have. I know there was probably nothing special about me. Sometimes little ones just latch on to someone. But she helped my heart so much and forced me to touch everything I was really feeling around Mother’s Day, in a way I probably wouldn’t have otherwise. Even though it was hard and I was crying at my best friend’s wedding, I’ll be forever grateful to that little girl for the love she showed me on Saturday night. And now I know for certain that I could love any child, no matter how they came to be in my arms. I just need them to be mine and then maybe my heart can rest.

And as I sat there at the bridal party table, teary eyed and choked up, I thought, this is infertility. This is the ugly, brutal face of infertility. If anyone was ever wondering, they could have just looked at me in that moment and known the whole of it.

I never outed myself in full during NIAW. DH wasn’t comfortable with it so I didn’t push it. But I did post this one Facebook yesterday: “To those who have loved and lost, and for everyone still waiting for their own little miracle, to anyone for whom this day is bittersweet, my heart is with you all.” To my surprise, 17 people liked the post, people of all ages, people with kids, and people without kids. Maybe the pain of Mother’s Day isn’t as misunderstood as I thought. Or maybe they were just being nice. I appreciated it nonetheless.

I think this is going to get progressively harder, each Mother’s Day that passes without a child to call my own. This was my third. The first time, I wasn’t even considering myself an infertile. It was two months after my D&C and I didn’t realize going in how hard it was going to be. It wasn’t until I saw people wishing other pregnant friends on Facebook a happy Mother’s Day that I realized, that should have been me.

And now we’re two losses, two dozen failed cycles, one failed IUI, one cancelled IUI and one IVF plan into our journey and it’s heavy. It feels like I’ve been carrying a heap of cinder blocks for miles and I just want this to end. I need this to resolve, some how, some way. I’m ready for my resolution. It’s time to find a way out.


10 Responses to “Harder.”

  1. Jenn May 14, 2012 at 2:28 pm #

    Mother’s Day was such a hard day, but it’s amazing how that sweet little girl helped you recognize so much about yourself and unknowingly provided you the space to really feel how you were feeling. All those losses have made you a mother, a mother who holds her babies in her heart. There is a resolution out there for you and I hope you find your way out soon. My heart goes out to you today (and everyday).

  2. Cristy May 14, 2012 at 3:10 pm #

    Oh Shelley. Every word of this post resonated with me. To feel the pain from that day; pain that is a mystery for so many others. I wish I could reach through the computer screen to give you a hug and cry with you. Because you’re right: this is completely unfair and you should be holding your child instead of being on this road.

    I’m proud of you for taking the first hard steps to talk about all of this. Outing one’s self is a scary thing. It’s the reason so many chose to live in silence. But, it’s clear you have a great network of friends and family who love and support you. And by giving them the chance to do so, I hope that you find yourself wrapped in love and light as you proceed to the next phase of this journey.

    Love and hugs, my friend.

  3. Stork Chaser May 14, 2012 at 3:45 pm #

    I’m soooooo sorry for all you’ve been through. We spent mothers day weekend visiting or week old nephew. THAT was hard too. My SIL kept talking about how exhausting it is and how painful the breastfeeding is and asking if I really want that. Yes! I do! And he looked so much like my husband both of our hearts ached. But I believe it will happen for all of us! It has to, right?!? What a great fb post too! It probably really meant a lot to those struggling. Wishing you the best of loch!

  4. Katie May 14, 2012 at 5:29 pm #

    What a beautifully honest post…

  5. Kate @ Infertile First Mom May 14, 2012 at 8:22 pm #

    That was a well thought out, personal but not too personal FB message. Kudos for having the courage to do that…I’m glad you got a good response. My 4 year old niece kept coming up to me on Sunday, alternately saying “Happy Mother’s Day” and “I love you”…not sure which made me want to cry more. Such a hard day. I’m glad you were with friends and family. Here’s hoping that this was your last Mother’s Day without your miracle.

  6. DandelionBreeze May 15, 2012 at 12:34 am #

    Thinking of you and hope next year is filled with peace and love xoxo

  7. Alissa May 16, 2012 at 11:06 pm #

    Ugh, all of this sucks. Keep your head up sweetie and find that determination with-in you. You will be an amazing mom and it’s obvious children love you. I knwo Mother’s Day is difficult, I’ve been there…but someday you will hold your own child…one way or another.

  8. Leslie May 17, 2012 at 1:21 am #

    It took a lot of courage to put that on your FB. When I saw it, it made my day. So beautifully, simply, put.

    The burden is heavy. I can only hope that when it’s lifted, you will feel the lightness of having chucked it off.

  9. Deborah May 26, 2012 at 12:38 pm #

    Here from ICLW – wow, that’s an awful lot of emotional stuff going on for one Mothers’ Day. I can see how that little girl would’ve made you happy & sad at the same time. And as you’re thinking about each future Mothers’ Day without a child, I sincerely hope that this is your last one.

  10. Darnell Balbin May 31, 2012 at 5:05 am #

    Very nice info and straight to the point. I am not sure if this is truly the best place to ask but do you folks have any ideea where to hire some professional writers? Thanks in advance 🙂

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