Monday, September 21, 2009

Heavy Hearts Weigh The Same

My eyes filled with tears.

So did hers.

My soul ached with emptiness.

So did hers.

My belly was empty.

Hers was not.

And both our hearts were heavy.


"A journey that begins with loss can reveal itself later as a precious gift."

I will probably end up memorizing every line of the letter I received today, but that is by far the most precious gathering of words she wrote.

And those words are ones that I'm sure a lot of us in the IF community struggle to believe at the beginning of a journey--but after everything we have been through, I do choose to treat the path we have walked as a gift.

There are many reasons for looking at it as a gift--one that I have mentioned time and time again are the amazing friendships I have formed, another being the incredible support and resources, and now a really incredible opportunity to bond with a family member.

A few weeks ago, when I was at a family gathering, my mom said she wanted to use an opportunity of us all being together to share some family updates. Knowing my mom's tone pretty well, I had a feeling I was in for a doozie--and prepared myself for the "guess who's pregnant?" speech.

It turned out I was right.

But I had to get my feelings of jealousy in check really quick, because the story that followed brought a different set of tears to my eyes.

The family member had been pregnant---years ago. She hadn't told anyone. She went through it alone, and only days before giving birth, called her mom to tell her--and only recently felt comfortable sharing it with our family...and Im so glad she did.

She realized pretty quickly that where she was in her life, she could not provide for the baby the way she wanted--so during the time leading up to the birth, she dove into adoption research and found a couple who, as she told me in her letter, "had lost hope of ever becoming parents."

When Mook and I were driving home that night, I was full of so many emotions: sadness, love,
admiration, pain...and realized I had this overwhelming urge to write her a letter. I took a few days to think about what I would even say...

But I didnt have to over-think it: the words just came. I told her about the tears I cried longing to have a baby, and expressed my sorrow over the tears she cried as she got ready to have a baby alone. I told her about how my soul ached not knowing if I would ever be a mom, and told her how brave I think she is, knowing a part of her soul is forever changed.

And finally, I thanked her for the selfless gift she gave not only her daughter, but to a couple who would now be a family because of her brave decision.

Our hearts were heavy for different reasons, but the weight of both of our journeys gave us a reason to hope.

36 comments:

  1. If I were still in the throws of treatment, I would slap someone for calling the path a gift - but looking back, I can see the gift it has become. For the reasons you listed, but for many more...I'm glad it brought you closer to someone in your family.

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  2. Wow. That choked me up. To see both sides of this and realize what she must have went through--but knowing that those people who received her child had such love in their hearts. I think that was wonderful to send her a card to let her know.

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  3. Whew, tears again. I, too, look at my IF journey as a gift,even if the scars are still there. Thank you for sharing.

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  4. Oh wow. I don't have words. What a profound connection. I would be interested to know how she responds (if she does). It's funny how life works sometimes.

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  5. It's amazing the secrets we keep, and the pain we'd share, if we only let those secrets out.

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  6. Beautiful, thank you for writing this.

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  7. "A journey that begins with loss can reveal itself later as a precious gift."

    I need to remember that.

    Thank you for a beautiful post.

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  8. Beautiful words, beautiful story.

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  9. You're making me cry with this. Perhaps it was just the way you told it, but this touched my heart.

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  10. This touched my heart too. Everybody has their own scars on their heart.

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  11. I had a moment this weekend where I wished we would've told our extended family about our journey.

    Heavy hearts, indeed. Thanks for the beautiful story.

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  12. This is an amazing post JJ, see this is why you cannot stop blogging...

    What a poignant point of view.

    xxx

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  13. Beautiful! I too have seen the burden of an unwanted pregnancy. Not my own. However, "Heavy hearts" weigh JUST the same!! You are so right!!

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  14. Oh wow JJ! This post brought tears to my eyes but for a good reason. Your relative gave those people such a wonderful gift and, I think by reaching out to her, you gave both your relative and yourself an equally precious gift...the gift of love and understanding.

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  15. That was so nice of you to reach out to your relative. I'm sure she appreciated it.

    It was only when I became pregnant and revealed that we'd undergone fertility treatments that we learned my sister in law had been an egg donor. Her mother, who had experienced infertility herself, encouraged her to donate in order to help others who were struggling to build their families. It's amazing the stories every family has to tell.

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  16. JJ...this post moved me so much that I kirtsy'd it and posted about it.

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  17. Monday morning tears are not a bad thing when I read a post like this. Thank you for sharing. Should I buy another bottle of wine for next week now? Or possibly just another box of tissues?

    It's stories like this that hopefully show you why you should keep your blog going. I am sure you have touched more people than you think by writing about incidents just like this one.

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  18. Thank you for this.
    I also see my IF as a gift, but for very different reasons. I've alluded to it, and hope to post more explicitly about it someday.

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  19. Such a beautiful, moving post, JJ.

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  20. This post is so beautiful and so touching. And so many can identify with it.

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  21. I agree with the others. This is a wowingly touching post. You are a highly empathetic person, JJ.

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  22. Thank you JJ for writing this and being your wonderful self in reaching out to her and letting her know how much hope her selfless act gives those who are trying to build their families. Keep writing.

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  23. Beautiful.

    It took (takes) time - but I can honestly say good did come of it.

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  24. I think you said it all here, but really, you are so right. Hearts that are weighted down with pain and regret are just heavy regardless of the nature of the pain they carry. They just are. And to find someone who understands that heaviness is an incredible gift.

    (I think that's why it never hurts as bad talking with moms who have been through infertility, because even though there's still the twinge of "they have what I wish I could have", because you know that they have carried that weight, a very similar weight to the weight you are carrying, it makes it easier to celebrate success.)

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  25. touching - and you are right as usual. Being infertile is not fun, but I have benefited, from friends (like you) who think of me and cheer me on, but, also from the unique bond between my husband and I, when you walk on fire together (and don't run out on each other) you stay together.

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  26. Wow. Just wow. You really are on a roll, lady!

    I've gotta say, as an adoptee myself who just had a baby after IF/pregnancy losses, I've thought about both my bio mom (who I've never met, know very little about) AND my mom-mom (by adoption) a lot more lately. And differently, too.

    Maybe I should write about this sometime!

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  27. How sweet and how sad, at the same time. I wouldn't change my path, if I could because it did teach me so much. because of those lessons, I've come into contact with so many amazing people. I can also offer support because of it, as well.
    *HUGS*

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  28. Well, as someone still "in treatment", yes, calling it a gift is like a slap in the face. You can say that because you have a baby. If you didn't I highly doubt you and these other women with actual live babies would be cherishing your journeys. Sigh.

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  29. I agree...while IF was the HARDEST thing I have EVER had to go through...I appreciate my girls in a way that I honestly think most parents can't fathom. Not that all parents don't love and appriciate their children, but, well I guess you just can't understand until you've been there.

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  30. Sentiments that I have felt time and time again. (((hugs)))

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  31. I am crying here. I am glad that you took the time to write her a letter

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  32. This is simply a beautiful, heart-touching post.

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  33. Thank you for this touching post. I can just imagine her pain, and being a PCOS mom, I can also feel your pain. Hang in there, I was told that I will never have a child. But I did, and I believe that anything is possible through faith and the right treatment approach.

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  34. How sweet and brave of you to write her such a wonderful letter! I really admire you!

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