Mobile over empty crib

Since I was 18, there were three things I wanted out of life. To get married, to have a wedding planning business, and to be a mom. Thankfully, I’m married to a wonderful man. I started planning weddings as a side business a few years ago. And for a few fleeting moments last spring I was going to be a mom. Everything was perfect! Then, no sooner than I found out I was expecting, I miscarried.

It was one of those moments that changed the trajectory of my life. I decided to leave my day job and expand my business so I could work from home while we attempted to start a family. It has been nearly a year… No go. My desire to be a mom hasn’t diminished, but obviously, desire and biology don’t always agree with each other. And I know some of you are thinking, “Give it time. It takes some people years.” I understand that. I also know that it never happens for some people. I’ve accepted that as a possibility as well.

Recently we decided to start fostering children, and hopefully adopt. I’m unbelievably excited about our new journey! That’s why I was so surprised by what happened this morning. There was a baby dedication at church. All these gorgeous families stood on stage with their precious little ones. The congregation bowed their heads to pray, and tears started flowing down my face. I was startled by this completely involuntary response. Truthfully, I couldn’t be happier for those families! Still, I felt an ache inside.

It feels like every time I open my social feed there’s a flood of pregnancy announcements, gender reveals, baby shower pictures, and shots of newborns in the hospital. Again, I’m genuinely excited for my friends! I guess I just didn’t realize how much those things affected me until this morning.

So, why am I writing this? I’ve kept pretty silent on the topic, thinking perhaps if I ignored it the sadness would go away. It hasn’t. I’m looking forward to the future, and am certain that no matter what our journey looks like, it will be beautiful. But I wanted to put this out there for others who have gone through the pain of miscarriage or infertility. I see you. I feel your pain, and my heart goes out to you.

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