With two under two, I have spent the recent years either pregnant, nursing, or navigating the postpartum season. While these years are messy and beautiful, they have made me acutely aware of the precious gift that is parenthood. These years have opened my eyes to how painful the journey to parenting can be for those around me. Every mama reaches the journey of parenting differently, but for those that face infertility the journey is treacherous. I may not understand the intensity of your pain mama, but know that I am on this journey with you. Please know that my mama heart is hurting for you.
My heart hurts for you mama, in more ways than one.
To the mama facing infertility; for a first child or any number after. Your journey is only yours. While the journey to parenthood is a struggle for so many, your story is distinct to you. I have not walked in your shoes, but my mama heart hurts for you. I may not say the right things and I may be insensitive to your journey at times. With the arrival of my own children my heart has learned how to hurt in ways I could not have imagined. And it hurts for you mama, as you face this struggle. I thought I was an understanding and supportive friend before I had babies, but I wasn’t. I’ll admit that I am far from proficient in being the support that you need as you face this, but I want you to know I am here. Please know that my mama heart hurts for you, and I will keep trying.
To the mama on the journey of infertility.
I will not say things like “Just relax” or “What Is Meant to Be Will Be.” These words do not help you feel anything but helpless and lacking control.
I won’t share stories with you of other women that received successful outcomes on their journey. Every body is unique and another person’s success does not equate to another’s.
I promise not to tell you I understand what you are going through. Regardless of my own struggles whatever they may be, you are an individual and I cannot possibly understand.
I will not try to give you advice or ideas because I know you have already thought of everything on your own and only want me to listen.
When you want to share your heart with me I will listen, and I will not be upset when you to choose not to share. I know you only share what your heart can handle.
I will still invite to my child’s birthday party and soccer game. While I know you are struggling, I also know you want the choice to decide whether or not you want to be present.
I promise to be flexible with your needs as they change on your journey. There will be times you will want to talk to me about it and times you won’t. I will still check in on you even when you don’t know what you need.
We will commiserate together when things really suck for you, and I will send you sentimental cards or pictures of funny animals just to make you laugh.
I will always reassure you that despite how lonely you feel, your infertility does not define you. You will not be left alone through it (unless you want to be.)
I promise to love my babies and share that joy with you when it is needed. I promise to continue to love you on your own journey.