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Nearly Three Years

As I sit here looking visibly near the end of pregnancy, my whole body aches to be done with growing a human. To date, it has been 33 months of actively trying to bring this tiny person into our lives. Nearly three years. Some of our best friends have children turning three-years-old in the coming months and I look at those little lives in amazement as I quantify our ‘trying’ to have another child in the years of their lives. Parenting and nurturing a child to the age of three is a lot of work. And so is three years of making a child.

Three years. This has been part of my identity for nearly three years and I wonder how I will let it go? When our son is finally here and in our arms…will I be able to move on? Is it necessary to move on?

It’s National Infertility Awareness Week and my sensitivity to this has me questioning where I fit. Last year I strongly identified with the other couples publicly addressing their struggles in an effort to decrease the stigma around infertility. But this year, I am pregnant and just a few weeks from meeting our child. Do I still belong with the infertility community? Am I graduating or do we ever graduate? In a few weeks I’d like to say that we ‘beat’ infertility as so many other warrior couples declare once they’ve met their baby. Yet, I still feel a tug towards this population.

My thoughts are that infertility will always be a part of me and my family. There is trauma I have to continue to work through as a result of infertility, as well as some insecurities, and relational issues that this process brought to light. I have heightened sensitivities to others growing their families, as well as empathy for those struggling with their own diseases. I never realized how consuming a diagnosis could feel.

I will never forget how we battled for this baby and how fortunate we are to be preparing to meet him. And I continue to send love to my friends who openly share their struggles with me as they are yet to conceive and/or continue to experience loss after loss on their journeys.

In less than a month, I will be holding my son. I don’t expect the pain from the past three years to completely dissipate once I am able to feel his breath upon my chest…but I do believe it will be healing.

*I am grateful to feel my son moving inside of my body.

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