Judgement

There you are standing there smiling at my babies.

There you go telling me they are cute.

There you are asking me if they are twins.

There you are asking me if twins run in my family.

There you are. Judgement. There you are.

There you go asking me if she’s a girl.

There you go happily telling me “I have my girl.”

There you go asking me if I’m done.

There you are. Judgment. There you are.

Here I go shaking my head in disbelief.

Here I go replaying the conversation in my head.

Here I go pretending it didn’t bother me.

There you are. Judgement. There you are.

Here I go beating myself up for not saying anything.

Here I go saying “Next time I’ll say something different.”

Here I go looking at myself in a mirror looking for the right answers.

There you are. Judgement. There you are.

Here I am. Unsure of the next path.

Here I am. Scared of the future.

Here I am. Ready to let go.

There you are. Jesus. There you are.

Just in case

Three powerful words

So I have been thinking about this blog post for a while. I will preface it by saying that this could be a trigger for some of you. I will also preface it by saying I am being so serious in writing about this topic. Some of you might disagree with me and that is completely fine. But I also feel like some of you are waiting for this conversation to start.  It’s a vulnerable and raw topic. It’s just something that’s constantly been on my mind these past few weeks even with the craziness of life. Oddly enough, it was brought up at our MOPS play date this week! I definitely feel like God is calling me to start the conversation. So here we go…..

A little back story:
So I was talking to a friend about two weeks ago and she told me that she was pregnant. It was a really good conversation and obviously, I am so excited for her and her growing family. But she was about 7 1/2 weeks along and she told me that she wasn’t telling very many people until after her first doctor appointment….. just in case. I think we all know what that means. In case you don’t, she wasn’t telling very many people in case something is wrong or something happens in the early part of the pregnancy. If you have ever been pregnant, most of you understand and are sensitive to this… and quite frankly, we all get it and would never blame anyone for waiting….. just in case.

But here is the problem with just in case, it doesn’t matter if we don’t wait and share right when we find out or wait for 12 weeks or 20 weeks; the fact is, anything can happen at anytime and we can’t control what happens. I think we use this idea of just in case as a protection and a way to guard ourselves from the potential of something so unbelievably painful if the pregnancy ends in miscarriage and/or stillbirth. And actually, for anyone to make it through an entire pregnancy without any complications is nothing short of a miracle. It truly is an amazing blessing to have a healthy pregnancy, even in this century filled with so much science and technology!

But why do we do this? Why do we feel like it’s better to wait just in case?

Is it because it’s easier on us if we should lose the pregnancy to have not told very many people? I would argue that it’s harder. In fact, it’s probably pretty lonely.

Is it because we wouldn’t want to bother anyone with our sadness in case of a loss? I would argue that our society would make us feel like our sadness is an inconvenience but the reality is that it’s not. The reality is that miscarriage and stillbirth happen every year in this country.

Now TRUST ME, I completely understand the just in case mentality. When we first started going through fertility treatments, I didn’t want anyone to know.

WHY?

Because I was ashamed. I was ashamed that my body couldn’t do the most basic task it was made to do: to make a child.

I was upset because I felt that my body failed me.

I was angry for feeling like I had done “everything right” and was being punished for waiting to have children until after I got married instead of when I was single after a college party.

I was resentful because others seemed to just “get pregnant” without even trying and I couldn’t.

I was sad that children are conceived every day by people who didn’t even want them in the first place and here I was longing for a child and couldn’t have one.

I couldn’t have a baby. I still can’t have a baby without help.

No matter what I wanted, it just wasn’t going to happen the way I thought it should happen. The way it was supposed to happen.

I imagine that if I lost a child. I would have a lot of confusion, anger, sadness, frustration and even more indescribable feelings. I imagine it would be one of THE most painful events in my life. I think about that. I think about if we can’t bring our next two embryos to term or if I don’t get pregnant the next time we try to transfer…. I think about that. Because to me, that inability to conceive our children in waiting…..would. crush. me. Because to me, they are already here waiting for us. To me, they are already mine. To me, they are apart of our family. So I understand, just A LITTLE BIT, of those feelings that people must go through when a child is lost in the womb. And when I say A LITTLE BIT, I mean A LITTLE BIT. Just a dash. It’s one of those things you would never wish upon someone else but you can only experience it to truly know how it feels. It’s definitely something I hope I never have to feel.

So what are we guarding ourselves from by saying just in case?

Is it vulnerability? Is it trying to control the uncontrollable? Is it not having to answer anyone when they ask you how you are feeling? Is it because we want to be alone in our sadness? I don’t really know.

What I do know is that in the last 2 years that I have started sharing about our infertility journey, I have helped a handful of women, who felt they were ALONE, not feel alone. I have had so many conversations with women – just. like. me. – trying to make sense of this painful (physically, emotionally, and mentally) infertility journey. These conversations wouldn’t have happened without me being open. Without me, being open to sharing our struggles, sharing our journey, and sharing the truth.

So this is my point: If you can share your journey – share it. Because I guarantee you will find that you are not alone. You are far from alone. Whether it’s a miscarriage, infertility or still birth, there is someone there fighting the good fight with you. There is someone there who can mourn with you. There is someone there who can support you and run along side you. There is someone there that can tell you that YOU WILL BE OKAY. YOU WILL SURVIVE.

Share your journey just in case you end up impacting someone else’s life more than you will ever know. 

 

Rachel

 

**This post is dedicated to the survivors.**