We all have parts of us that we keep hidden away. Parts that are too dark and feel are too ugly to share with others. We’d be pretty naive to say that we are transparent because no matter what, we all have those parts of us that live in the shadows. Those we cant bear to talk about out loud. The parts we keep covered with masks and painted smiles. Despite this, I try my best to be forthcoming about my struggles in efforts to reach those who aren’t ready to shed a light on theirs just yet. Perhaps through the words I write, someone will read what they need to hear in that moment and choose to live their lives differently. It’s my greatest hope anyhow.
I’ve never found it difficult to express myself. Whether through art, writing, music, I’ve always found an outlet to portray what I feel. It wasn’t until a year ago that I finally found something that changed all of that off for me. I found my weakness, my kryptonite. The one part of me I didn’t know meant so much until it was almost taken from me. You see, last year among everything that took my attention including grad school, being a wife, a friend, a daughter, sister, etc. I can handle all of that… I did handle all of that.
Many may know that I’ve been married to an amazing woman for the last four years, but what most of you don’t know is one of the biggest challenges we’ve ever been faced with is the journey to become parents. For most couples, it just happens, but for us, we have to jump through hoops and walk on tightrope just to get a few steps closer to that dream. If you don’t understand the steps it takes for two women to get pregnant, let me fill you in. See a specialist, a social worker, monitor your cycles, take medications, insane amounts of blood work and sonograms at the crack of dawn, choose a donor, pay thousands of dollars for all of the above, then pray and meditate that it works. Then when it doesn’t… pick up and start it over again… and again and again… come to find that you have a medical problem you never knew existed and your doctor didn’t think it was an issue until it was. Go through surgery, heal the scars from said surgery, miss a month of work, and wait all over again. Wait for the green light that says you can take that chance again.
It’s scary and it’s not like anything we’ve ever experienced. All I can do is thank my lucky stars to have such amazing support through it all. I wanted to share this for the millions of couples out there who go through the waves of this storm and ride it out without sharing it. It’s one of those things that you either talk about or you don’t. But what I’ve found is that it helps talking about it, even when you don’t know how. Find comfort in knowing someone out there understands. Knows about how painful it is to lose something you were trying to have. All we can hope is that someday soon we will get our chance. When everything’s ready to fall into place.
Photo Source: Danielle LeGrandier