I know hearing about yet another pregnant friend hurts you so deeply- not because you’re not happy for them, but because you’ve been trying so hard with no result.
I know it must feel discouraging.
I know your heart is fragile and weak and feels as though it will shatter at any given moment.
I know this is all you’ve ever wanted and all you’ve ever prayed for- to have a family of your own.
The longing you feel to hold a baby in your arms, to hear that first heartbeat.
The disappointment you feel every-time your period comes and goes.
The fantasy you live in if it’s a couple days late.
Your journey isn’t like most others, yours is filled with uncertainty and desperate hope.
You feel cheated of the normal easy process this SHOULD be.
I know you feel crushed and empty.
I know you can’t help but feel that you’re lacking.
I know you feel incapable of doing what you were meant to do.
I know you may even start to wonder if you deserve this.
I know all of this because I see it in your eyes and I feel with you.
I hold your pain close to my heart and I will carry it until you find happiness.
I know you can’t believe this is happening to you, because who ever imagines themselves going through pain and heartache?
I know all this but I also know that you are strong- even if only because you have to be.
You are still strong nonetheless.
It’s ok to not always be positive.
It’s ok to grieve something you never had.
It’s ok to dwell in the loss.
Yes you should always look for the silver linings, but you‘re also allowed to feel.
Allow yourself to have hope because hope is a remarkable thing.
Having hope is not foolish; it’s what keeps us going.
Having hope allows us to dream.
Having hope doesn’t mean you’re stress free or tear free or sadness free, it means there is still that hint of optimism that the baby you’ve been praying for your whole life, will one day enter this world.
Hope means that once your anger, grief and misery start to wear off after yet another negative test, that glimmer of hope can will slowly makes its way back into your life.
There is a unique pain when you’ve prepared your heart to love a child that never came, a pain only you will understand.
But I’m here with you in this pain and longing. I’m here to cry when you need to cry and I’m here to forget when you need to forget.
I’m here knowing that my words may not give you any comfort and instead invite hot tears streaming down your cheeks, but I am here.
I’m here with you.
Trying for a baby is a roller coaster of emotions and every single one of your feelings is valid, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
Suka Nasrallah, Writer