Infertility is grieving

Infertility is not being able to hold your first nephew, the one who made you an Auntie, your sisters first child for goodness sake; because the feelings and grief of your miscarriage 5 months earlier are still too raw to hold back the tears, and all you can think about is who he/she would’ve been.

Infertility is the reminder of your losses and longing for those 2 pink lines with each pregnancy announcement shared. Questioning, when will it be your turn? Feelings of happiness for them but sadness for you.

Infertility is grieving in silence every year on Mother’s & Father’s Day, knowing that there should’ve been a little one for you to celebrate making you parents, longing so much to be able to take those pictures to post all over socials.

Infertility is blaming yourself. Questioning what is wrong with your body, or what you did wrong that would lead God to put you through so much heartache.

Infertility is crying month after month when your period shows up, the most harsh reminder that everything you tried the past month didn’t work.

Infertility is holding a baby and wishing it was your own [not in a weird, kidnapper way].

Infertility is seeing your due dates come and go, still waiting on your rainbow baby.

Infertility is seeing only one pink line, when you were so sure it’d be two this time.

Infertility is not wanting to tell your husband you started your period.

Infertility is sobbing as you walk back to your car after brunch with girlfriends because one of them shares she is pregnant “without even trying”, and you literally just suffered a miscarriage weeks earlier.