A Letter Of Hope

Hi ladies. I just love ICLW week! I've read so many new blogs and received such compassionate and empowering comments - a sincere thank you to everyone who has visited. :) I hope you continue to stop by...

This entry tonight is going to be long, but please spend the few minutes it'll take to read it. Trust me. The below letter was passed on to me by my co-teacher a few months ago when she found out she was pregnant, while I had just received another BFN. She was at a loss for what to say, but somehow found the kindest way to do it. She suffered for over a year with infertility, but has since gotten on the train. Her baby boy is due in June and I'm so so so thrilled for her. You may have seen this "letter" somewhere before - the Nest or one of those support sites. If so, I apologize for the repetition, although I do get strength each time I read it. I decided to post it while atop the acupuncture bed tonight. My acu-man, aka my voodoo hero, told me that he believes women with infertility are the MOST dedicated women he's ever seen. I agree wholeheartedly.

A LETTER TO MY SISTERS

Infertility is like a party - a big, two or three year long party that no one really wants to go to. In fact, it's a pretty lousy party, not much fun at all. But by the time you get the invitation, you are already there. Perhaps it's the doctor that gives you the invitation, or a specialist, or perhaps just plain old time gives you the nudge that this is one party you won't be missing.

So we all show up at this party, kicking and screaming. But since this party is held in our honor, we wipe our tears and look around the room. We see our mothers, our aunts, our sisters, and the lady down the street. The check out lady is there, and so is the attorney, the school principal, and the taxi driver's wife. When we see them, at first, we are surprised. "I didn't know you were invited too..." we say. And when we start to talk with them and learn their stories, we know instantly we are sisters, and that their grief is our own, and that we aren't quite so alone.

This party is filled with sisters. My mother, and perhaps yours too, was at this party once. So were many friends of mine. I am always humbled by seeing how many sisters I have here. Even as sisters leave, new ones come to take their place. I spent a long, long time before it was my turn to leave. You, too, will leave this party someday.

There are parting gifts at this party, but most of us are so glad to leave when our time is up, that we just throw them in our purse and forget about them. Then one day, while we are looking for something else, we dig out a little box. Oh yes, our gift. We were looking for what to say to a sick friend, or perhaps how to handle some adversity that came our way, and we found this little box in the bottom of our bag. We open it slowly and there inside we find it. Endurance. Strength. Compassion. We were strong and once walked through the fire. It has made us stronger still. We have endured what would have once broken our hearts, devastated us, and come through with strength that will not easily be silenced. And compassion. Our hearts have grown and now we can, without judgement, embrace each other in ways we couldn't before. We know the true meaning of kindness and the value of compassion. We see humanity, for all its sadness and all its emptiness, and we know we can't do anything but wrap our arms around her in a warm, full embrace. We understand each other's sorrow and we share our strength.

And so, My Sisters, stay strong. I understand how hard some days are, and I know how deeply you want this to end. Know that it will, and that you do have the strength to endure this. You will. You will move forward because you desire this more than anything in your life. You will conceive, or you will adopt, or you will foster children. You will someday leave this place, this party in your honor, but you will remain a Sister forever.

~~A Sister and Mother after years of infertility

Although I've lost some of my faith along this journey, I still get strength and peace when I pray. So, may God bless each of us as we continue on our paths to motherhood.