I’m back (again) from another mini-break. I know that I have taken to writing somewhat infrequently this summer, though it is not for a lack of thoughts or an unwillingness to share. Each day brings new experiences, some of which are wonderful and others that are painful. This process is still far from over for us and there is so much I want to write out, whether for purposes of processing or preservation. It’s important to me to be more diligent in posting regularly.
But, I am having a hard time knowing that there are others reading my posts who are still struggling with infertility, going through invasive procedures, and dealing with loss. I don’t want them to hurt because of what I’m writing, but I know that is impossible.
When I started this blog last October it was with the intention of keeping our friends and family informed throughout the complicated surrogacy process. I never expected to stumble into an amazing online community of people who are traveling similar roads. I never imagined that it would lead to me developing friendships with women around the world who can understand what Kyle and I are going through in a way that most never will. These friends and their advice, encouragement, and support has made a world of difference to me throughout the uncertainty and pain of our treatment this year. I am so grateful for each and every one of them and the impact they’ve had on our lives.
Although we get to move on to this new phase in our journey, I am often reminded of how many others are still hurting, still fighting, still waiting for their time to come. For me, they are no longer hypothetical couples “out there” dealing with infertility– they are people that I love and care about very much. I have followed their ups and downs for the better part of a year. I have prayed with them, hoped with them, cheered with them and grieved with them. The idea that my posts, my stories, and my photos might now be painful for them to read hurts deeply– not because I selfishly feel the need for them to be happy for me (which I know they absolutely are), but because I don’t want to do or say anything that could add to their pain.
I’ve thought about this issue every day since the day after we got our positive test. It weighs on my mind heavily. There is a lot that is difficult about pregnancy (especially surrogacy) after infertility, but one of the hardest aspects for me to accept is that there will always be others who are suffering. I hate that so much, and I hate feeling so powerless to do anything about it.
For those who are in the midst of it right now: you have not been forgotten.