Tag Archive | mothers’ day

The Top Ten Reasons Infertility & Endometriosis Are Diseases I’m conquering, They Are Not Who I Am!

With Mothers’ Day Fast approaching, I’m trying to stay positive.  Thanks to all of you who have made me smile and cheered me on this journey.  Your support is awesome.  I decided to pause and count my blessings by creating my own “top ten list”  of reasons that infertility will not define who I am.  Feel free to comment and add your own reasons infertility will not defeat you this weekend.infertility meme

infertility does not define who I am

The Top Ten Reasons Infertility Will Not Stop Me!

10: I can Drink a toast to my pregnant friend while she looks on and salivates!

9: I strut around in my skinny jeans from 3 years ago and look pretty flipping awesome!  (I’ve lost 11 lbs to date)

8:  Eating ice cream for dinner doesn’t mean I’m setting a bad example.

7: Sleeping in till 10AM on a Saturday because I feel like it makes me healthier and gets me closer to pregnancy.

6: I don’t have to give up my crafting habit to pay for toys or baby expenses.

5:  I’ve gotten a minor in gynecology just by reading articles, blog posts, and web pages.

4: I’ve found a community of amazing women to support me on this journey.

3: I have made a lifelong friend who has forever changed my world! (Yeah, Jordan this is you!)

2: I am a healthier person who will be a better mother when this is all over.

1: I am blessed with the most amazing husband who loves me and supports me through everything life can possibly throw at me!

Mothers’ Day

Mothers’ day  approaches and so I pretend. Pretend I don’t feel the emptiness, that my dogs are enough to fill the empty hole which the gears of my GEARSbiological clock drill deeper each month. Perhaps this will be the last mothers’ day where I am a mother only to my sweet four legged kidos.

I scurry, choose mothers’ day gifts, prepare French toast, soup, sandwiches, eggs and sausage.  I keep thinking that if I make enough food, and whip myself into a tornado of chaos; somehow I won’t hear the deafening silence.  It works for a while.  I admire the tidiness of the house, and savor the aromas of the meal I have prepared.

With food heated, and the table set, they arrive.  They don’t know the full extent of our struggle, it’s not their burden and I can’t bring myself to discuss it with them.  Their judgment and opinions are something I can’t endure. We have an understanding, I’ll share what I’m comfortable sharing.  They don’t ask questions. This is something you can’t analyze from afar; it’s a calling that I hear in my heart.  Day in and day out my body reminds me what it was made for, every piece of me craves mother hood.

EMPTY CRIBWe chat about days gone by.  When my husband and I were small, and do I know that my mother sill has things from my childhood put aside for some day, if I ever…  Couldn’t have mothers’ day without that inevitable reminder. After an uncomfortable pause the conversation switches. There are gifts, laughter, and eventually, I cry.  If I’m lucky, I can wait until they leave to let loose and have my moment.  My moment when I dream about holding my own miracle next year, when I’ll be too busy and tired to do anything but fall asleep holding the miracle that God has given me.