The very moment we were confirmed Everlee was indeed a girl, pictures of the future together with all my girls were erupting in my mind. It’s like your whole future flashes before your very eyes. My hopes and dreams made new with this new addition. For it now contained a little girl named Everlee.
I imagined all the more pink Jeremy would be swimming in. I imagined how much Alice would love to have a little playmate. The dolls and Barbies that would fill our house. Two girls growing up close in age. Allowing them the opportunity to be best friends for eachother. I imagined how as they got older fights about bathroom time and eachothers clothes might become a problem. They would get to be at highschool together. We would have one graduation right after another. Maybe weddings too.
It was a good picture, a good future I saw. A complete and whole one. Till the day when we found out that dream was never to become an actual reality. It forever remains what if now, and what could have been. It forever haunts me in a way now. Something that was never meant to be but felt so possible and real at the time. It felt like it was mine to have. A type of a dream that is hard to give up on.
I knew I needed some time to heal after loosing Everlee. I wanted to give myself a year to heal physically and mentally. There was a time in that year when I was asked pretty regularly if I was going to have anymore children. And at the time it took everything out of me not to scream “why would you ask that” because at the time I just wanted Everlee. The thought of another child and what that meant to me was too hard to comprehend. The only child that would feel right in my arms would be her, and all the plans I had I wanted back on the table. But that wasn’t a possibility so I knew at one point I had to let that go. Everlee couldn’t come back no matter how hard I wished it. If only my love was enough to save her, I don’t even think I would be here writing this today.
There was this one defining moment that changed my heart, a moment where I got to hold my friends newborn baby son in my arms. He was her rainbow baby (a baby born after a loss) she was blessed with after loosing her first son. I remember how instantly I was filled with this joy and new love for this little baby sleeping in my arms. He helped me feel what hope felt like that day. And I knew I was finally ready to open my heart to another. I was ready to Welcome in new joy to our home and fill our hearts with hope of our own.
Soon after our journey of trying to conceive began. A journey I never knew would end up being this hard and draining. Something I’m still wondering why my heart was opened to if it maybe will never come to pass.
I guess God never promised life to be easy, so I’m not sure why I let myself assume anything should be. We simply were promised that we would never be alone. That He would carry us in our times of trouble. Maybe I felt like In a sense God would right what happened. I felt I had earned some easy sailing after the hard storms I already passed through.
It took months to open my heart up to prospect of welcoming a new baby that would never be Everlee again. But the promise of hope and new Joy to fill our lives again was worth trying for. Or conquering a fear that we might loose another child.
But every month my excitement over the process seemed to slowly disappear. Instead of Hope and Joy I was filled with desperatation and longing. Longing for a child that has never yet even been. Grieving yet again another loss. Infertitly is another loss in itself. The loss of a dream. A loss of a assumed future.
The dream I thought I had given up and lost with Alice and Everlee I found myself holding onto hoping I could still find that future I so desperately wanted with a future child. But as time kept ticking by so did that age gap. Alice is now three and a half. We now are looking at a four and half to five year age gap. I think a part of me thought if we had another baby sooner than later that never ending image of two girls growing up together that my mind is plagued with would release its grip on my thoughts a bit. I felt so cheated. And yet again, here I am being cheated all over again.
We have tried everything, and I mean everything. Every vitamin or supplement or special diet you could think of. Every tea, every essential oil, special lotion, candles for fertitly. Every different way of timing, position. Destressing our lives, tricking ourselves into thinking we aren’t trying. Really there is nothing I haven’t heard of or given a shot. And still there is nothing to show for the countless efforts we have put forth.
And every month you tell yourself you will not waste any more money on tests. But by the end of the month, it never fails, your hope and positivity are built back up at this point and you think well maybe this is it. So you take the test, burning a hole staring at it, hoping for that line to show up. But it never does. Another negative test sitting in the garbage. You feel stupid you allowed the hope to return and disappointed you wasted more money that you literally have thrown in the trash.
I find myself at a point where I feel like I’m begging God in my prayers now. Ultimately I think this will have to be left up to Him and His timing. Im not ready to give up yet. But completely handing over your burdens to Him is hard. Maybe that comes from the independent side of me and my need for control. Still after all this time, I find myself grasping at the need for this false sense of control over my life and future.
To say this has left Jeremy and I furustrated is an understatement. And to all those who tell me “it will happen” please explain to me how you would know. Or to the ones who say ” you must not be believing hard enough it will happen” how would I not be believeing hard enough? Trust me I hope and wish on it everyday. Then there’s “you must be trying too hard” ok well how is this going to happen if I don’t try at all?
Maybe this is why this part is even less talked about then losing a child. A silent heartbreak. Understanding someone’s grief for their child is hard, but trying to understand grief for someone that has not even came to be is even harder. Im fully aware they don’t because I never understood until I was here. And maybe that’s why I’m telling you all this today, to try to make someone understand this new heartbreak that has entered our lives.
I was ready to mother Everlee. I was ready for the countless hours at night trying to rock her to sleep. I was ready to shower her with love and kisses. I was ready to see Alice be a big sister. I was ready to see Daddy holding two little girls in his arms. I was ready for a whole lifetime with her. I was ready for it all.
I still feel ready… Ready to mother another child. Ready to use that rocking chair again. Ready to dig out the crib and finally see Alice holding her sibling in her arms. Alice is a great sister to Evey her baby sister who lives in heaven, but I’m ready for her to experience that with a sibling here. I’m ready to welcome another lifetime with someone ……
But we still wait. We hold on to Hope our own rainbow will still come. But like I said ultimately I will have to leave it up to God now and his timing.
Lamentations 3:25-26 The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord