That which does not kill us makes us stronger. Cliché – because it’s so true.
Just two months into my fertility journey, I know this without a shadow of a doubt – because right now I have never felt more weak, or insecure, or shit in my entire life. I feel broken. But the only way is to keep going. The only constant is change. And this too shall pass.
Being optimistic, and remaining positive, and choosing to have faith in the process is great. It’s important, even, to face life this way. But those things don’t make you pregnant, do they?
Being strong doesn’t make you pregnant.
I just want to say to you, my friend – you, beautiful reader – that sometimes this journey is not about being strong at all. It’s about doing what you have to do, without much choice. It’s about acceptance. It’s about figuring out another plan, taking deliberate steps down an unexpected path.
It’s uncertain, and unclear, and unrelenting.
And often it’s uncomfortable – it’s challenging thoughts, confronting emotions, and difficult conversations.
It’s cancelling plans and changing your mind and feeling alone as well as bombarded. It’s high highs and low lows and not being ready and being too late. IT’S NOT WANTING TO DO THE THING YOU NEED TO DO TO GET THE THING YOU WANT. It’s confusing.
And it’s unfair and shit.
You don’t need to be strong, you know. But you do need to be strong together. Because this will challenge the very essence of who you are and you’ll ask “why” more times than you have reasons for the question.
This is about saying sorry when you need to, and I love you as often as you can. It’s unconditional love. It’s the bigger picture. And it’s not letting the small moments define us… even though they’re consuming, and not small at all.
It’s remembering how to breath… those deep breaths that we have to stop and think about. It’s hitting pause. It’s the profound impact of a warm shower and a modest cup of coffee on your ability to face the rest of the day.
You’re gonna ride some big waves. You’re gonna draw some strong lines in the proverbial sand. And you won’t be able to go back.
You’re going to see your deepest, darkest, ugliest selves – and all the beauty that lies within you. You’ll discover parts of yourself that you had no idea were hurting. And you’re going to see sides of your partner that will surprise you. You’ll push them away and they’ll carry you in.
Sometimes, you will break each other apart. And even though you aren’t strong – your love must be. Because you’ll be able to heal one another in a single moment. Coming together as you come undone; your love is like glue. It’s like diamonds – more beautiful under pressure.
You are going to loose yourself and feel the weight of the whole world closing in. The air will become so heavy it’ll be an effort to breathe. You’ll want to run but have no ability to move. I think this is what it must be – to become consumed by longing and hope and despair. Some days you simply won’t get past it. Other days you won’t be able to see it at all.
Wherever you are at in your journey – just started, or deeply entrenched – and however you are feeling today – hopeful, or hopeless – it doesn’t matter. Because you’re in deep from the very beginning.
And so, whilst it’s true that I have never felt more weak, or insecure, or shit in my entire life – what’s more significant is that I’ve never lived my life so fully either.
I’m right here, right in the thick of it…. and this is it. And it’s good, and it’s bad, and it’s mine. And it’s the only one I’ve got and am ever going to have. And I’m doing my best.
So I’ll be broken and weak and messy and ugly – and then I’ll find those moments of joy and beauty and strength and I will cherish them.
For there are many.