What’s for you won’t go by you
It’s been almost a year since you wrote your last letter. And if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you hoped that life might have taken a different turn by now. You weren’t at all prepared for the heartache that was to come.
You were growing to love and appreciate your body after the loss of your baby boy. You had been slowly healing from the pain of recurrent miscarriage and secondary infertility. You were finding the confidence to try again and bring home a baby brother or sister for your daughter. And try you did. Because the investment you’d made - emotionally, mentally, physically and financially - surely that would be the key to your happy ending? The pressure you put yourself under through intense fertility research and testing, surely that would turn your luck around? And the answers, the ones that led to a treatment plan, surely they would help you bring another baby home?
Two weeks later. Two faint lines. Not strong enough. And you knew in your heart that another pregnancy was over. That life, your spark, gone out.
Lost, alone and tired. Your heart, aching. Your spirit, breaking. You tried to stay strong and positive. But the facade would come off, at which point you‘d find rock bottom. The shock of it all hit you, then, and you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror. The guilt. The shame. The regret. Hello, old friends. For the first time on this so-called journey, you understood what it meant to feel desperate. Truly desperate. You wanted so badly to bring home a sibling, a playmate, a friend for your daughter. You couldn’t be around bigger families without welling up. Your whole world seemed to be tumbling down around you. And you were losing sight of who and what was right in front of you. A family that looked different to how you’d imagined. But a beautiful little family all the same.
It begged the question… “when is enough, enough?”
Your plan had always been to stop your fertility journey last year. And so last summer you pressed pause, took some much needed control back and some valuable time for yourself. Only, deep down, after everything you’ve been through, even after five heartbreaking losses, there is still a big part of you that clings onto the hope of a different ending.
Whatever you decide, remember to put your wishes out to the universe and accept that it owes you nothing. Remember to have your hopes and dreams but stop pinning your happiness on them.
And remember, what’s for you won’t go by you.