What Could Have Been
I know…my second post in a day. Amazing. But this is more of a continuation of the first…so bear with me.
Sometimes I feel like such a failure for not being able to give Jeff another child. I feel like he got the raw end of the deal, because “our” infertility lies within me. If he would have chosen someone else, he could have had any number of children. I feel like I am cheating him out of something he very much deserves. I don’t want to be the cause of any sorrow in his heart. It might be an irrational thought, but it’s one that has played over an over in my head: I am the cause of this heartbreak. But, if I want to be happy, if I want to be free, I need to let go. I need to give up the guilt and the negative feelings towards myself, and quit dwelling on heartache. And this “letter” is my way.
You would have been beautiful. You would have had the same eyes as your big sister, the same smile as your father, the same curly dark hair as me. We all wanted you so badly, and it has been a hard road to where we are now. But here we are. At the point of letting go. Although it makes me very sad, I have to say goodbye to what you would have been; to let go of who you could have been. This may seem funny to some…how I can be so heartbroken, why am I writing about someone that never existed? But you did…in our hearts. You were real to us…a dream that seems so very realistic. We just knew you would appear someday, but you never did. I still don’t know why, but that’s a question I need to let go of also, because they whys and the what-ifs would eat me alive. Why can’t I? What if we tried this?
So anyway, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s been too hard on all of us, and for us to be able to heal we need to let go. Though we will always want you, and there will always be an ache in our hearts without you, this chapter of trying so exhaustingly to bring you to us is over. I won’t forget you, I’m quite sure I’ll think of you whenever I see a newborn in their mother’s arms; whenever I hear the sweet sound of a baby’s cry; whenever I see “I’m the Big Sister” emblazoned on a little pink t-shirt. It won’t be easy, but I have to move on.
All my love.
**This past post is just a small, microscopic glimpse of the heartbreak that was our battle with secondary infertility. Obviously we have now moved on from this space we were in at that point, but the heartache is always there…even if it’s smaller. Even reading this is still hard for me. I have my family now – the one I always wanted and I am overjoyed by that…but there will always be a part of me that feels sorrow over never being able to carry another child in my body, not being able to raise another child from the first second of their life. I took so much for granted the first time around. I guess there is a lesson in that.