Have you ever had someone who shared a similar fertility experience invite you to coffee or out to lunch? I have. A couple older ladies especially. Inevitably, what I thought was going to be me sharing my woes and finding sympathy, they end up sharing their pain with me. At first I would leave feeling more lonely and depleted but after a while, I began to feel honored that they felt safe with me.
It was only two years ago that it hit me. It was December and I was sharing an infertility struggle with my mom when I realized, she was teary eyed with me. My mom is a very sympathetic person but it hit me that she was sad over the same thing I was. I was grieving not being a mom while she was grieving not being a grandma.
It was the day after that last appointment when his doctor told us our options for expanding our family were IVF or adoption. We were still processing this news and hadn’t even had the chance to really talk about it ourselves, but we had that dinner commitment with friends so we went. They talked about their kids, their business, their lives, and didn’t really ask about ours. For me, the whole evening was like sandpaper against my face. It wasn’t until later that I realized, I could have shared.
His alarm goes off and I take another half hour at least to slowly wake up myself. Grab the glasses, hit the bathroom and then straight to the coffee maker for my vat of iced coffee. Pop the frozen breakfast sandwiches into the toaster oven, pop the morning vitamins into my mouth, pop on the essential oil diffuser. If I don’t have anywhere to be, I snuggle into the couch with the cat for an hour or two of TV shows, video games or sometimes just scrolling on my phone. Do I love this morning rhythm? Not really…