Lately I’ve received quite a few heart wrenching emails about miscarriage and/or infertility-readers and friends knowing that I’ve walked that road myself, have asked for advice or just reached out to talk. When I look back at the last twelve years of my life, one of the foremost struggles in my life has been trying to figure out what was “wrong” with my body-why it would reject so many pregnancies-a diagnosis of ‘unexplained recurrent pregnancy loss’ was given to me. I will never have anything more than just that diagnosis, but somehow knowing that in definite form felt like an answer in itself.
I can’t help someone who is battling with the same issues have a baby, or promise them it won’t be a long road with more pain, or that bad things will never happen again, or that they will have answers. But I can tell them that hope is what picked me up each time, and that the sorrow for certain made me feel that much more joy in the end. I have learned to never ever take a pregnancy for granted, or a baby in my arms for granted also.
I think this hardship and all the hurdles I’ve had in my lifetime have helped me grow so much-heck they’re not easy, and I can’t say I’d hand them to myself on a silver platter again and again, but in the end it’s all been a gift and I am grateful for that gift. A gift of growth, whether it’s that sweeter joy rising from the pain and sorrow, or the ability to help others and bring them hope and knowledge, or dealing and healing the feelings of envy and bitterness and anger, or most of all gaining a deep empathy and understanding for women walking the same path, has led me to believe that struggle is really the treasure chest of life and some of the most beautiful rewards are hidden inside.