The Struggle Is Part Of The Story

I was reading an article the other day about a baby born after infertility needing it's own term. That a baby born after a miscarriage or infant loss is a rainbow baby and a baby born before a miscarriage is a sun baby. They also mention the term for babies born asleep, Angel babies. The article said that babies who are conceived after infertility don't have their own term and there needs to be one. So this got me thinking, I had always thought a baby born in the midst of infertility was a rainbow baby?  So I began to ponder, By definition a rainbow is the beauty after the storm. I read this and I thought my struggle is a storm.... It's scary, and dark. It leaves me feeling hopeless at times. My dreams get blown off in the wind. Why wouldn't my baby be a rainbow baby?  After awhile I realized, it doesn't matter what I label my baby. It can be a rainbow baby after my own storm. It can be my warrior baby after a fight I never gave up to be a mother. A little on...

Late nights are a dangerous time for me. I let my mind run wild analyzing my day, my life. I think, over think, rethink everything my life has become. I have given everything to my infertility battle. In the beginning I tried the little Pinterest hacks. Every day for three months I ate pineapple because I was told it would make my uterus look more appealing for the egg to implant. I did fertility yoga. I tried the fertility massage. I drank fertility smoothies. Fail. As time went on I thought I better look further into this baby making process. I bought medical devices proven to get other women pregnant. I had surgery. I tracked my temperature, my cycle, my mucous, and month after month failed each attempt. Becoming more discouraged with each failure I broke down. Days of crying turned into weeks. Months went by and I layed on wet pillows until I fell asleep. We sold our house because I couldn't continue to come home to empty rooms I cannot fill. I packed up the perfect nursery ...

Even though I have not experienced a failed pregnancy, does not mean I have not experienced loss. Infertility loss encompasses so much more than one thinks, or can ever imagine. Have you lost something or someone every month for a year? Twelve losses a year; yet still wake up each day, put on a smile for the world because that is what they expect. I have always dreamed of becoming a mother. I can imagine myself sitting in a rocking chair, holding my growing belly while my miracle flutters inside. I see myself staring around at the finished nursery set for my bundle of joy. I rock and enjoy the silence before my bundle arrives knowing life couldn't be more perfect; but each month that doesn't happen, I experience loss. The loss of the dream to become a mother. The loss of making my husband a father. As the months drag on and that very dream becomes further away, I experience loss. The loss of hope it can ever happen. The sparkle of hope that this dream could ever bec...

Infertility is a constant battle. You want to tell yourself I can do this, I can be strong; while at the same time you are staring at only one pink line. You want to be excited when you wake up nauseous one morning; only to find it was just bad take out from the night before. Your heart never wants to lose hope while your mind tells you don't give false hope. Month by month the red river flows reminding you of your failure and your loss. While some celebrate in this great gift of mother nature, we crumble at the thought of lost motherhood. I have been on this rollercoaster for 3 years. What you need to remember is you never see a rollercoaster with only one seat. There is always someone beside you. There are cars full of people behind you. All these people who ride the same ride. Strap in and hold on tight. It is time to take the ride of your life to the greatest adventure of your life; motherhood. Stay strong.