Time heals all wounds, right?
Wounds might be easier to deal with. The pain slightly easier to bear.
But they are never truly healed.
Some days it just hits you and today was one of those days.
Our fertility struggle started more than 5 years ago. Our loss 1202 days ago. I’ve had two beautiful, healthy, happy children since then.
But that doesn’t change the loss and pain we endured to get here.
While the sadness and grief no longer consume me, there is a piece of my heart that still mourns that lost little love, each negative pregnancy test, each time I was told no or maybe next time.
Today was a normal day, as I loaded up the kids and left for our MOPs meeting (Moms of Preschoolers).
Today’s speaker spoke about her journey through infertility and loss. Her story was tragic and heartbreaking, something no one should have to go through. I sat there and cried with her.
After our speaker finished, we were provided discussion questions to use at our table.
Today, I heard several very brave women, share their stories of fertility struggles and losses. It humbled me to watch their bravery unfold. They shared their pain. Their battle.
When it was my turn to share, I was surprised when I had to stop and try (not very successfully) to regain some composure.
I’ve been quite open about what we’ve been through. It’s been awhile since I really talked about that blazing, joyous moment of finding out we were pregnant to that heart-wrenching, life altering moment when we weren’t.
I remember thinking to myself how weird it was that I was crying, I feel like I don’t usually cry when I talk about our journey anymore.
As I’ve shared our struggled throughout the last few years, I’ve spoken with quite a few people who struggled too, with infertility, secondary infertility or miscarriages. But being in a room with so many wonderful people, many of whom had this shared experience was empowering. Even through all of the accompanying sadness, it proved, again, I was not alone.
And you are not alone.
Don’t suffer in silence.