A year ago today I texted Coach at 3 something in the morning. She was one of few friends that new we were pregnant and was an IVF veteran I used as a resource throughout my own IVF and pregnancy. We were bleeding and I was sure this was the beginning of the end of my pregnancy. We’d waited for those two pink lines for so long and it felt like it was all caving in. Thankfully…we were wrong. A year ago today we saw and heard our little miracle’s heartbeat for the first time. PC and I jointly breathed a sigh of relief if not for just that moment all was right in the world.
As I nursed PB to sleep in his rocker tonight, I felt a little overwhelmed. Subconsciously did I know it was spot on a year before I had even consciously put the dates together? I’ve been mulling over a friends’ recent endometriosis diagnosis (optimistic from treatment side) and rehashing how every tear we ever cried and every failed cycle now feels worth it, but my memory doesn’t erase or reset. I ache for those still trying. I ache for those that want but can’t ever have children. I ache for those that lost their babies. So my point I guess is that with April and infertility awareness approaching–is that I’m grateful. And I’m still humbled. And I’m hopeful for the ladies (and gents) out there.