Part One:

I found out that I will never get to birth and hold another baby.

I will never help another child blow out the one birthday cake candle.

I will never hold my breath waiting for another toddler to take their first step.

I will never get to do all of those firsts that come with creating a new life.

I will never watch my daughter play and grow old with a sibling.

I will never get to stand outside of her bedroom and hear her share her deepest secrets with her sister.

I will never get to see her brother take up for her when someone hurts her spirit.

I will never get to have big Thanksgiving and Christmas parties filled with the laughter of my children.

I know I should be grateful for one child, but I am grieving a loss that never was.

I am grieving all of the what ifs and the maybes.

Although there is no way to know if more children would have happened anyway, there is something so final in knowing it is no longer a choice or a future decision to be made.

Be happy they say.

You have one child they say.

You have a girl they say.

It doesn’t help take the sting away.

I know I will be fine.

After all, time heals all wounds.

Isn’t that what they also say?

What am I supposed to do when my daughter is all alone?

What am I supposed to do when she needs a friend?

What am I supposed to do when she has to tell her parents goodbye all by herself?

When she has to pack up a lifetime of memories all alone.

What am I supposed to do?

I know I will be ok.

I know she will be ok.

She is fierce and bold and wonderfully beautiful.

She is smart, and she holds the entire world in the palms of her hands.

She will move mountains I say.

She will do great things I say.

I picture her future and the possibilities of living a life full of love and happiness are endless.

And yet— in the darkest corner of my mind a small voice whispers that she will be alone.

I wince. I feel the knot in the back of my throat. I inhale and then exhale.

I push down the voice.

Not today.

She will have me.

She will have family.

She will have friends.

She will have spirit.

She will move mountains.

She will do great things.

All of a sudden it isn’t the what ifs or the maybes that occupy my mind.

It is just how life went.

A split second that changed everything.

A future shaped but not defined by an instance.

A life lived to the fullest.

A different direction.

A different path.

Building memories day by day with the people we love.

Cherishing every moment that life has to offer.

Today, we let go of the maybes and the what ifs.

Today, we smile knowing that everything will be ok.

Today, we inhale and exhale.

Today, we are grateful for the blessings that we have.

Today, we smile.

Today, we leave it behind.

Today, we move forward.

Today, truly is a new day.

Part Two:

Yesterday, something life altering happened.

We were sitting right there when the news was given.

We were sad at first.

We blinked and that day didn’t matter anymore.

It was just a speck of dust in our past.

We get to grow old together.

We get to build a life.

We get to raise a child.

We get to make a difference.

We have blessings that others dream of having.

We will not be defined by this.

We will move on.

We will cherish every argument, every bump, every bruise, every laugh, every cry, all of the ups and downs that come with living life and raising a human being.

We will not think of the what ifs and the maybes.

We will think of the love and support.

We will think of the grandparents, aunts, and uncles.

A sea of people in her corner for the rest of her life.

We will think of her future.

We will wonder if she will conquer the world alone or if she will do it with a spouse or children of her own.

We have endless blessings to look forward to.

All of a sudden, we are granted a different set of what ifs and maybes.

We smile thinking of what could be.

We carry a torch.

We ignore the whisper in the back of our mind.

We move on.

Every day is a new day.

Wonderful things are unfolding right in front of us.

I have been having some medical issues throughout the past few years. About a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with stage 4 endometriosis. After much treatment and some beautifully placed bandaids, I have exhausted all of my options. I will be having a hysterectomy in August at the ripe age of 33. I wrote these reflections in reaction to my most recent doctors appointment when I scheduled my surgery. I am slowly coming to terms with my new reality; however, I am still struggling and in need love and prayers.

Being a woman is wonderfully beautiful most times; however, it is terrible at other times. Often, we carry the weight of the world on our shoulders; yet, we bottle everything up and never really speak about our struggles with fertility, infertility, and female issues in general. To those of you dealing with child and infant loss, miscarriage, those who don’t want to get pregnant, those who are pregnant who do not want to carry a child, foster parents who have to say goodbye a little too early, postpartum moms, PTSD moms, the moms and women who yearn for one or additional children, the ladies going to war with their spouses over having children, or anyone else out there who is struggling with this concept in any capacity- I see you, I love you, and I am praying for you. You are not alone. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. 💕