Secondary Infertility certainly does not feel like it is secondary to anything

This week is Infertility Awareness Week.

Considering this is something I face every day, and have since the night of March 7, 2016, I don't particularly want to dwell on this fact.

I don't feel the need for seven days of even more reminders of this. It is already hard enough being on social media and living in a town where large beautiful families abound where daily reminders of others being able to live out one of your lifelong dreams occur. New babies are born on a weekly or monthly occurrence around these parts. At any given point in time, a meal train is in the process for an expanding family and park outings are planned given the warm spring like weather that has finally arrived.

For me...secondary infertility is when seeing your friends and families with their babies makes you both incredibly happy and incredibly sad at the same time. It is sitting at mass week after week, watching the other growing families and adorable children interact with one another while Adam and I tend to Charlotte. It's seeing other moms who were pregnant at the same time as you were having second and third babies since that time. It's sitting there with arms folded over your empty womb. Being at mass is one of the hardest places for me. I am usually able to hold it together up until Communion. For some reason, the hardest part of the mass is after Communion as I watch the families file back to their seats. In those moments, I try to turn the prayers of sadness and consolation into prayers of thanksgiving and praise but it's oh so hard.

Secondary infertility is when you see or hear another pregnancy announcement and the jealousy and comparison makes you feel like less of a mother.

It is when people ask, "Is she your first?" and "When will you have another?", and you just have to politely nod or change the subject because you just don't want to get into the story or explain that it is not a physical possibility any more.

It's looking over at your husband and wondering if he would be happier with a woman who can give him more children. It's knowing your fears are completely unfounded as he tells you for the thousandth time that he has all he needs in you and your daughter.

It is when you are grateful that you at least know the reason why when so many others struggle with knowing why they are unable to conceive but also wishing that you could still get a period each month because just maybe, maybe it could have happened again.

It's knowing there are others who have no Charlottes to hold and feeling extremely grateful for the one miracle baby you do have.

Secondary infertility is when close friends fear telling you they are expecting again for fear of upsetting you.

It is you feeling so guilty and ashamed for feeling the way you do when your daughter is more than what you deserve. It's you not wanting to stand in the grief, anger, and other feelings because you want to be present and only happy for what you do have. It's wondering if these feelings will ever go away and if you could just experience the joys of parenting without the sad feelings. It's recognizing the beauty in feeling all the feelings and trying to brace yourself for feeling these emotions during each milestone of children's development. It's accepting a small part of you is dying as your baby gets further and further away from newborn stage and progresses through toddlerhood knowing this is the only time this part of parenting will be experienced...for the first and the last time.

It is wondering what you will say when Charlotte is old enough to ask for siblings and wondering how the story can be shared in a loving way without blame.

It's getting lost in the "what ifs" in thinking of how many kiddos there might have been given that Charlotte was a honeymoon baby and getting pregnant with her was so easy. Then it's thinking how presumptuous of you to think that having others would have been so simple given how no one knows how things would have gone. Secondary infertility is also a bit of relief in learning that you didn't know how serious things were or how badly they could have gone in the moment during the actual pregnancy and delivery because that experience of carrying the little angel for 40 weeks and having a natural vaginal delivery was a beautiful moment in time.

It is not going to mommy's play groups or social events because it's hard to keep a smile plastered on your face as you hear others share the trials and joys of raising the larger family you wanted to give to your husband and (first) child. It is retreating into self and hoping that you're "enough" for those who love you.

It is constantly asking God why and only hearing silence in return.

It is fighting all the fears & doubts and trying to keep from drowning in them...every single day. It is keeping busy and taking on way more than can be handled at work to shove the feelings down and try not to face them even as they stare you in the face. It is crying your way through writing it out while the house is still quiet and asleep in the early morning hours.

Perhaps most importantly, for me, secondary infertility It is having hope & faith & trust that this is the journey meant for your family even as you desperately cling to old dreams and hopes and try to redream. It is trying to accept being the mother you were made into rather than who you thought you would be even as you cry yourself to sleep again. It's being thankful for those who have stood in the gap with us the last two years and keeping all those who struggle with any form of infertility close to my heart not just this week but every day.

Shielding the Feelings

I'm glad today was such a busy day of looking at a prospective house a dear friend is thinking of buying, playing with Charlotte, schoolwork, meetings, and trying to get things crossed off the to-do list.  It kept me off social media for the better part of today.  

Then I logged in just before bedtime and was reminded today is "National Sibling Day".  A post I had made six years ago of my three brothers, two sisters-in-law, and me surfaced as a memory in my newsfeed.  Seeing these pictures and thinking of my siblings (by blood and marriage) made me smile.  

Then the sadness and longing for things to be different started rolling in....yet again.  What will Charlotte feel on these kinds of days as she gets older?  Will she yearn for a sister as I did for so many years being the only girl in my family?  Will she look around and see her friends in their houses filled to the brim with noise and toys and kiddos and wonder why her house is quieter and smaller?  Will she compare her life to the lives of others and wish she had a little bit of what they have?  Or will she look outward then reflect on all that she has under this roof?  Her triangle family of three and her pups...will we complete her world and bring her joy?  I sure hope so!  Will she look around and see and feel the love that surrounds her?  Will she know how much she is adored by her mom, dad, and others in her life?  Will she be grateful that she can have our undivided attention and not have to share it with other children?  Will she have a humble and servant heart and be kind to others in spite of not having the built in opportunities to practice sharing and other virtues with siblings?  Will she be resourceful and creative and imaginative as one of my adult friends who is an only says she was as a small child?  Will she not want for siblings and be super close to us, her parents, as another adult friend who is an only child told me was the case for her shortly after Charlotte was born?  

I often go back to the conversations Lisa and Becky had with me when I was first mourning the loss of the big family dreams I had had for Adam and me and for who I thought was going to be the "leader of the pack".  Throughout our pregnancy we believed it would be the first of many.  Even though we don't talk as frequently these days because, well, life. is. so. beyond. crazy. busy. atthemoment. I still think of these two friends' kind words as they brought me comfort in thinking maybe it won't be such a bad world for our little girl to grow up as the center of ours.  I read recently that a mom said she finds she acts as the role of mom and sister to her one and only daughter and her husband acts as both a father and a brother to her.  I find this an interesting concept and wonder if Charlotte's relationship with us will take on some of those characteristics as well.  Obviously parenting will be first but I hope that she will also form bonds with us in other ways as she grows.

As I was about to sign off social media tonight, I saw this beautifully written post (see below) in one of the support groups I belong to online.  It was a beautiful reminder to not project as I fearfully wonder if I'm doing and to stay in the present and let Charlotte Annie have her own experience!!  Adam, her pups, and I are her whole world right now and hopefully it will be enough....along with tons of family time with our siblings and their children, play dates, and a whole lot of God.

Her shirt seems to capture the sentiments behind this posting perfectly tonight.  Yet again, she is looking upward...this little girl has a knack for helping me to look up and to stay in the light!  Praise God for her.

This is the post I referenced in the last paragraph:  This might be a long post, but I hope it's helpful- I sometimes read the posts here of all the sad parents that are unable to give their kid a sibling and the greatest advice I think I can give any parent is to not feel sorry for their child for any reason - kids sense it and end up growing up feeling sorry for themselves as if they have missed out. If you raise your child reminding them this was not the upbringing what you had hoped or imagined, they will feel like they are missing out. 

Focus on the positive and keep your personal lamenting to yourself - at least while they are still children.
I'll give you an example - my life:
I grew up in a small apartment of immigrant parents - like ALL of my friends. By the time I was in high school I saw all of my friend's families move into houses. We didn't. We stayed in our apartment (my parents and me and my brother). I would tell my mom how much fun it must be to have a big house and a yard, and she would agree cheerfully but always added how cozy our apartment is.. How much we loved our neighbors ... How convenient it is to have a super...
I would ask if she thought if we would ever move and she'd say Maybe. But the conversations would always go into the positives - casually. She was happy with our family. She loved our cozy apartment. She wasn't unhappy, so we weren't.
It wasn't until I was an adult that my mother expressed how difficult it was to watch our friends move to big houses with yards- that's what my parents always wanted for us, but could never give us. I told my mother, that I would have never guessed that she harbored any sadness about the life they gave us.
I told my mother that I never needed it. A big house with a yard... That happy parents who taught me to look at the bright side and find beauty in life has served me much more.

Please don't think I'm making any assumptions about anyone here. I just always admired my mother for this when I grew up and realized that she shielded me from her personal sadness when I was a kid.
The adult onlies that I've met, I've noticed that the sad ones who wished for a sibling are the ones whose parents apologized to them for not giving them a sibling. I say, there is no need for that - while they are kids focus on the loveliness of your family. Focus on the positive. One day when they are adult, they will appreciate the sadness you felt for them.
Xoxo

Soooo...anyone have any tips on how I can shield Charlotte from this at times all consuming sadness?  Please keep the prayers a comin' and be assured of mine for you.  Pax!