Harder than it Ought to Be

I have spent several weeks trying to put my feelings and thoughts into words, continually unsatisfied with the result.

You see, I should be one of the happiest women around, but I have found my own happiness being tempered by the pain I feel for my friends.  In the last year and a half, I have begun discussing my battle with infertility publicly.  From tweets, to memes, to facebook status updates . . . anything to let others know they are not alone.

Infertility is a painful journey and not new just to modern families.  Ancient mythology from the Aztecs to the Vodou contain tales of Gods and Goddesses of fertility and you can find stories about Sarah, Hannah, Rachel, and Elizabeth in the Bible . . .  but it has only been recently that couples have begun to really talk publicly about the pain that comes with the battle.

In the course of sharing, I have had over a dozen friends, people I know in real life, share their stories with me.  Much to my surprise, some of these friends were men.  These men are loving husbands who are fighting the battle with their wives and feeling the agony that comes with infertility.  Their pain touched me more than I could have ever expected and I admire their courage to talk about it as well as how dedicated to their spouses they are.

It is you, the brave and broken men and women who have continually been in my thoughts and so often in my prayers.  I say broken because anyone who has been through infertility feels broken.  And betrayed.  But we are brave because we continue on inspite of the pain.  We keep fighting until the battle can no longer be fought, whether it is due to age, finances, or choosing a path we hadn't intended.

My husband and I appear to be done fighting that battle.  It is not because we can no longer fight, it is not because of finances, and it isn't because our path or goal has changed; t is because we are expecting what we believe will be our last child.

With each breath I take, I hope and pray for the safety of my own baby.

I pray that he or she will grow strong.

I pray that the medications I am on will prevent the losses I've experienced in the past.

I pray that those friends who have shared their pain will find healing of their own, whether the healing comes from a viable pregnancy of their own or through finding another path that brings them peace.

I pray that the battle I have fought can give me the strength to help others when they have no strength left.

My battle with infertility has been my Eleven Years Battle.  My body is not healed, but I have limped across the battlefield and found that I've survived.