Even though I’m celebrating my third Mother’s Day, I want you to know that underneath all the smiles and pictures I’ll be posting on social media, I’m still one of you. The pain of my inability has shaped part of who I am, and I know how you feel. I pray I never forget it, either. It keeps me grounded. It reminds me of what is possible but gives me the ability to empathize and commiserate with you. I would not trade either of those things.
I’m sorry if you have to dodge kids handing out flowers at church this Sunday. I’m sorry if people say things like “you just need to relax and then it’ll happen”. I understand how it feels when it hurts to hope.
I wish I could’ve had kids a more normal way. I sometimes wish my life was normal. But I guess that’d be boring. This is my adventure.
But I beg of you, never surrender your hope. Never stop praying. Embrace this story as just part of your journey. Know that I see you. Know that I know that pain. Know you’re not alone no matter how isolating it feels. Talk to someone. Cry. It’s ok.
Then come Monday, put on your lady blazer and handle your business like the boss you are. Because you are valuable. You are a miracle. And your story is still being written.
There is joy on the other side of this pain. I promise. I don’t know what that looks like for you, but I have faith.