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.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Thanks Internet Aunties!

A few days ago, Daddy-Mook was carrying me around on his back, so Mom and I had some face to face time.

She loves to tell me about her blog buddies and sometimes will read me things she has written, as well as notes from her friends. Daddy likes to tell me that I will really treasure having this journal to read one day because Mommy has really enjoyed keeping a diary of the journey to have little-ole-me!

So during this chat we were having, she mentioned she thought maybe she shouldn't blog anymore.

Well, the local paparazzi caught my reaction:

I was shocked.

I told myself I wouldn't cry. I knew that mommy would just think I needed to be changed or I was hungry, so I held my composure and put on my serious-let's-get-down-to-business look, and gave her some solid 7 1/2 month-old advice:

Daddy must have heard my threats, because he told Mommy she really needed to think about it and we both agreed she needed to talk to her great blog friends.

If my poop-strike threats alone weren't enough (I'd save up for an explosion at the most inopportune time!) I knew that my Internet Aunties would help her through this conundrum. (Yea, that's right--Im not even walking and I know what conundrum means.)

So mommy got quiet for a little while as we walked. I was getting nervous. What was she going to do? Would my sleep strike be enough to convince her to keep typing? Maybe I was going to have to take more drastic measures....I would promise to eat peas.

But then, I heard her start singing to me--and it was my favorite! Itsy-Bitsy-Spider! Oh boy, this could only mean good things! She gave me a big sloppy kiss and said, "I love writing on my blog, O-man! I promise to ask my friends for their advice...I want to keep sharing how much I love you."

And I know I owe all my Internet Aunties a BIG THANK YOU for loving my mommy, too.

Monday, September 14, 2009

The Gut Speaketh

Inhale a big breath...and.....GO:


Breathe. :0)