At least I was thinking maybe this was the case…
I realised a couple of weeks ago that I hadn’t been thinking about babies and IVF and infertility. And it surprised me, because in previous years I had always experienced feelings of sorrow, guilt, and even anger, as April approached.
I was positive that this lack of conscious thought about April meant the wound of not being able to have children had healed. The scar tissue had become so strong that it wouldn’t tear open again this year to leave my heart and arms empty.
It crossed my mind that perhaps the souls of my babies had moved on. Maybe they had let me go and I had let them go too.
I felt strong. It was over it. Time truly does heal all.
Then I went to the supermarket.
There were prams everywhere. There were babies everywhere from newborns to almost toddlers.
Parents held the hands of older children, corrected their behaviour, laughed with their children, called them back to their sides when their kids had wandered of, and, sadly, there were also “parents” who seemed to take great joy in belittling their children in public.
That old familiar loneliness and emptiness arrived so suddenly that I struggled to keep the tears in my eyes from falling down my cheeks.
We didn’t even get to the stage of egg collection with our first round of IVF. No embryo was created. Still, I think about the child we could have had – the little boy or girl who would be turning six this month.
Who would that little person have been?
We’ll never know.
I tend to think about the child that could have been from our first IVF round as their due date would have been our wedding anniversary.
When we married we had a picture of what our lives would be like – and that included having children and raising them as best we could. There were no doubts that this dream would become a reality. After all, our friends and family were having children and never had any problems – so why would we? It never even crossed our minds that we would.
And I can never forget
those dreams or that potential child, and I don’t think a time will ever come
when I feel all okay about it. I will never be “over it”, and time doesn’t
really heal all.
|Our wedding day...|
I also know that missing my child doesn’t mean I’m not strong. Perhaps it actually means I am strong – because I can think about our children, grieve for them, while still being able to love and feel and live.
Happy sixth birthday angel child.