Some days I sit here and look at these two kids and wonder what the heck I ever did right to deserve them. This week is National Infertility Awareness Week and I feel like I have to “go there” for at least a minute. What a journey it has been in the last five years. When I think back to growing up, the only thing I ever remember wanting to be was a mom. I had a pretty awesome mom myself, and I knew that I would be the right person for the job. I pictured little blonde haired, blue-eyed babies running around making me feel like there was a reason I was on this planet. That’s all I wanted. Fast forward a few decades….married, settled, ready to start a family……and then no.
Trying, trying, trying, and watching the world go on around me was a real eye opener. As soon as we found out there was a problem (although we never did know what to call it or why) I felt defeated. I felt lost. I felt COMPLETELY and TOTALLY alone. You can’t explain that feeling to even the most well-intentioned friends. Constant doctor visits, shots, procedures, and medication that makes you feel insane are only the tangible things you can see and know they are making you sad. What you and others can’t see is the mental anguish, the pain, the comments by seemingly helpful people, and the forever over your head, dark cloud reminding you that you are different than everyone else. Other people get drunk, get pregnant, rock their bump, tell you what gender they wish they will have, think nothing of screening tests, statistics, or horribly intrusive trips to every doctor imaginable. Your friends make babies and more babies around you effortlessly and you smile as best you can and try to remember that you really are very happy for them, and so so sorry for yourself.
To anyone who has been down this road, even for a moment, my heart goes out to you. I will never forget the seemingly endless tears that hit me at any moment that I was alone. The car, the shower, in my office at work. Sad. Sad to a degree that I have never been sad before. All because I just wanted to be a mom. I wanted a kid….dare I say that looked like ME an my husband. After years of unimaginable heartache that never stopped for a second, our luck changed. We found out after a terrible run with fertility treatments for the millionth time that against every odd…..something had worked. For weeks, we didn’t know how many babies were in there, or if anything would be ok. After learning about and losing a twin, having a down syndrome scare, a miscarriage scare, a heart defect scare, and so many other world-stopping moments along the way, my little man gave us the biggest scare of all with his one last “statement” during pregnancy and scared the living crap out of all of us just hours before he was born. ”Just please let this happen, please let me have what everyone else has. Please let this baby make it here.” ……Like it was yesterday.
When all 9 pounds, 7 ounces of him dramatically arrived 3 weeks early, I am pretty sure my heart stopped beating. And it has never been the same since. I have never felt anything more real, more raw, or more amazing in my life. There he was, just like I always knew he would be (only bigger).
All the pain and heartache behind us. I swore to myself, over and over that I would never ever forget what that felt like or how grateful I was to be holding what would surely be my proudest accomplishment in life. It goes without saying that I love that kid with everything I have to give. But I would be lying if said that I don’t sometimes think of what would have and could have happened if his twin had joined him for the ride.
A year after his arrival, I knew I had to do this again. I couldn’t stand the thought of him growing up without a best friend. I knew he would be the best big brother ever. His sister was much nicer to her mommy…..no problems, smooth sailing after our second go at fertility brought her to us much quicker.
I wondered what it would be like to have a daughter, to have two kids, and to have a completed family. Would I long to be pregnant again, would I be sad if this was it? No. I have never felt more sure about anything. These are the two kids I was meant to have. My two blonde, blue eyed babies. Lighting up every moment of my life.
While the realities of parenting two energetic, very close in age kiddies is often a challenge, I have never met a better challenge. They make me smile, they give me purpose, they laugh with me, they make me realize that everything I have done in my life up to this point is for them.
I spent this past Saturday photographing 46 miracle babies and their families for free to celebrate this important week of awareness.
It felt so good to give back to a group of people that have “been there”. I read their stories and cried. I remembered things I had forgotten along the way. And when I saw each of them look at those beautiful kids that they finally got, one way or another….I also remembered the sadness. I thought of the babies they lost, the dreams that they buried, the tears that they cried, and how alone I know they all felt. So even though I celebrate my own victories this week, I can’t help but think of the countless people I know and millions I don’t that are still headed down the road. So to those of you who can’t believe that you will ever hold a baby of you own, you will. And for the rest of us who have been so lucky to be given a chance at parenting…..a chance we weren’t sure we would ever have…..I know I speak for all of us when I say we will hold them just a little bit tighter this week.
In the interest of all things sappy, I have to post my favorite highlights. What a crazy walk it has been. So proud to be their mom.
B’s first brain freeze
no words
The best
Mommy’s little gril
And who could forget the highlight reel…..Yeah I’m going all out. It’s one of those days.
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