I know you promised yourself that you wouldn’t take the pregnancy test early this time, that you would wait.
But I know you snuck into the bathroom while he was sleeping, just you and the box calling your name in the early morning dark.
I know you held your breath when the fluid moved across the screen, that your heart beat wildly across your chest when that first line appeared, that you swore that you started to see the darkening of that tell-tale second line.
I know you imagined your future in those breathless minutes, that you calculated due dates, and ticked over registries and milestones and graduations and first steps and visits from the tooth fairy in your mind.
I know that you cried, all alone, when you didn’t see what you were hoping, when that second line never came, despite how much you squinted and scrutinized and tilted to get a better angle.
I know that month after month feels like the same struggle, the struggle between trying to have hope but not getting your hopes up.
I know that some days, you can’t believe you have become this person, that you never thought it would be this way, that it doesn’t seem fair. I know that you wince at the baby shower invitations, even though you catch yourself every time, that you remind even yourself that you are happy for them, you really are and that it’s OK to let it sting for a minute.
I know that it wears on him too, that you are both stressed and tense and that old adage of how baby is born, “When two people fall in love …” hurts a little because it’s almost ironically laughable to think that you once thought it would be that simple for you too, isn’t it?
I know that this experience has changed you, no matter where your journey will lead you, and I know you will look at life in a different way forever now. And I know that if someday, you do hold your child in your arms, you will never forget the woman you once were, the woman who hoped and prayed and cried and longed to become a mother, month after month.
And I know that you should never forget her because she is a part of you and a part of your story, no matter what your happily ever after looks like.
this really spoke to me...for 6 long years we tried...with disappointment month after month. 4 years in we got that positive but lost the baby 10 days later...I was alone with my husband on deployment and family in another state...2 more year of hope and disappointment. we finally got another positive again but didn't want to get too excited...I worried every second during my pregnancy but gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who is growing way too fast.
so beautiful and it made me cry because me myself has never had a problem having my babies but my older sister and husband have been trying for five long years and I fear they never will get their very own blessing. they see my son all the time and spoil him rotten but I know in her heart she wishes and prays everyday to be able to spoil her own little blessing.