Dear Someday Baby,

When you and I finally meet, I feel I will owe you an explanation about a few things.  Your Mommy has experienced a sickening amount of pain – the emotional kind.  I’ve addressed this part of waiting for you before, and will again, because it’s so much a part of who I am I have to share it while I feel it – or risk denying what this experience is like:  it simply hurts so much, I often don’t know how to deal with its effects.  And the effects continue to take their toll.

The pain shows on my face.  I have aged about 15 years in the last 7 years since your Daddy and I were married.  I continue to age far too quickly for my liking – mostly due to stress.  I have finally accepted  the lines and creases around my eyes aren’t laugh lines (despite popular belief).  I look weathered and tired and strained, and no amount of make up will conceal my experiences with infertility and waiting for you. 

I feel the pain in my body.  And I don’t just mean my heart.  I stay active by going to the gym, walking lots and eating well.  I also just spent most of the summer outside in the fresh air – which was truly a blessing – however my pain permeates my bones.  I know that sounds dramatic, but I feel it all the time.  There is a dull ache that exists during every moment of the day, and flares up during especially difficult times. 

I have trouble seeing the “real colours” in the world.  Again, probably a melodramatic statement, but I am constantly reminding myself to observe the vibrant scenery around me or to remember to be present.  Everything I experince is dull – the colours, the smells, the sounds.  I fight this to the best of my ability, but even the most brilliant sunsets have lost their magic.

My pain has caused cracks in some of my most tried and true friendships.  I am most certainly to blame for this because I have retreated into a bubble of safety, but there’s really only so much I can take when every single one of my friends has one main topic on their minds and hearts: their child/ren.  First day of school photos flood Facebook.  Seven of my friends have posted their ultrasound or U.C. Baby pics.  What could we possibly have in common right now?  I really don’t want to hear, “Parenting is the most rewarding thing you’ll ever do,” or “There is no love like it,” one more time this week…or month.

Truth be told, all it took for me to feel this low is meeting with an expecting coworker about transition planning for her mat leave repacement for the next year.  The reality of the situation hit me – she is as little as two weeks away from giving birth!  Even worse, there were actually 3 of us in the room – me, her and baby.  Is it horribly wrong to wish for her to go away fast?  Because sometimes, it’s just too much to bear.  And I can’t stand it. 

I wish there were some way this could all end, once and for all, so I could get on with the next chapter.  I don’t want to lose hope, but I feel as though it is slipping away… 

I will explain it all to you, someday, just in case you find yourself wondering why Momma sometimes still cries when she looks at you.