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.