Mother’s Day is always incredibly hard for me. It’s a reminder of the greatest loss that I have experienced and a dream that continues to be hard to achieve. After a heartbreaking miscarriage in 2014 and failed fertility treatments since then, October 7 (the baby’s due date) and Mother’s Day (the second Sunday in May) are two of the hardest days of the year for me.
Like most A-type personalities and overachievers, I’m someone who sets a goal and doesn’t give up until I achieve it. And yet this hope of becoming pregnant, this one dream that I have been working so hard at for so long, has not been reached. This is a perfect reminder that some things are simply out of my control and that no matter how hard I try, I can’t control everything. For me, dealing with a miscarriage and unexplainable infertility makes me feel as though I have failed at the one main job my body was born to do.
I hate failing. It infuriates me.
And yet, through failure comes some of our biggest lessons. For me and Jesse, the struggle with fertility has made us realize that we have so much love to give. And we know there are many children in the world waiting for this kind of love. For us, it’s not a matter of having a biological child or none. For us, it’s nurturing and loving a child that will become our own whether biologically or through adoption.
This has been our biggest lesson.
Thankfully, I have an amazing support group and trusted therapist who have helped me understand that infertility it is not my fault. That nothing is wrong with me.
I am also one of the most positive people you will meet. I know that I will achieve motherhood. I can feel it in my soul. I really truly believe it.
But that doesn’t discredit the fact that there are at least two days a year where I become a bit emotional or sob a little harder. Mother’s Day is “one of those days.”
I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. That’s not why I’m writing this.
After all, I have an amazing mother whom I love and cherish deeply, who spoils me with adoration and attention, and who is a phone call and a short drive away whenever I need her. I am also surrounded by a tribe of strong and wonderful women. I am so incredibly grateful to have my mom and these women by my side.
I write this because I feel it’s important to share my honesty and because I know I am not alone. I know there are so many of you out there who are dealing with the same issue. I know that even through the smiles and happiness of sharing Mother’s Day with other women, for some of us, our heart aches a little more on this special day.
To all of you who know the pain I’m talking about, please know this:
You are NOT broken.
You are strong.
You are beautiful.
You are loved.
You are amazing.
You are magical.
You are not alone.
Let those words sink in. Repeat them to yourself over and over.
And remember, that love that you yearn to give to a child: give it. Share it. There’s an entire world filled with humans and animals that need love and nurturing, including you.
It took me a while to realize this.
For me, the best way to give and share love with others started by truly loving myself: by telling my body that it has not failed, that nothing is wrong with me, and that it is strong, beautiful, and loved.
To all the amazing women and men nurturing and loving others, I wish you infinite days filled with strength, love, beauty, and magic.