Growing

Standing behind the stroller, the little man lets out a brief but loud cry.  I cringe and anticipate my own reaction, but realize that the cries of children no longer sting.  Then, my heart does a silent ache for the pain of an unknown and unseen woman who’s body does cringe and heart sink at the sound.  I soothe him, and scan the crowd to look for the familar face that I know so well.  Alas, infertility requires many women to wear masks.  Many of them the face of bravery, strength, and calm.  How, I wish I could find the woman who is suffering in silence and hug her. 

I am now that woman with a child who’s cries rip at the hearts of women.  If only children were calibrated to not cry in public. 

I’m very aware of my actions in public.  I’ve noticed I don’t do a whole lot of squishy (real technical term, I know) talking with Lucky in public.  I don’t use the word mommy much in public either.  At home, I do.  However, I find myself avoiding all things overtly mommyish.  I know that circumstances have afforded me the biggest gift I could ever receive, but hailing everything over the top mom, would feel like spitting in the face of my past.  I just can’t do it.  I respect where I’ve been too much.  I’ve decided there is a fine balance.  I can be a mom without gushing in public and delving into mommy and me madness.

I know I’ve said it a thousand times, and probably will a thousand more, but the kindness of so many of you has touched me.  While infertility is heart wrenching, and may seem to suck us dry, I can assure you that that is not the case.  I know what it takes to send out cards, congratulations, and gifts.  It’s beyond difficult.  Thank you to everybody from the Braces Bunch for your support, friendship, and cards.  I respect all of you beyond measure.

Thank you to L for her package yesterday!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  We miss you!

Another thank you to Bri who’s package arrived yesterday.  I’ll be sure to ship them back as he grows out of them!