The scars we're left with-

There have been a lot of pregnancy announcements lately. I guess spring has sprung. I have an easy enough time with most of them, coming from people I know who have waited for this with longing. Some of them have been totally unexpected though, leaving me feeling like the wind has been knocked from my lungs and I'm gasping for reason.

I have a child now. People assume (wrongly) that I am over what I've been through; that a child "fixed" my infertility. If only it were that easy. I never went into this thinking my son would be my cure- he was my goal, but I would never put the weight of resolving all my issues on his tiny shoulders. That is for me to carry, and me alone. My husband may help me shoulder the burden, but he has his own to carry from what we've been through. It was never up to anyone else to save me.

So despite having my heart's desire squealing in his swing as I type this, I still ache. I ache for the children I never brought home, the children I may never have, the future that I can't imagine. Will I ever have more children? I don't know. That's hard to think about sometimes. I like to think I will, but I can't say I will for certain. My son gave me hope again, but he did not give me a guarantee. No one can give me that.

Our tree is huge this year, and I can't believe that it's been almost four years since we planted it. Almost four years since we lost the first one. When I was pregnant, people told me to move on, to embrace my son and not to dwell on the ones I lost. I don't understand why they think that remembering the past and embracing the present have to be exclusive. Surely you can remember and honor those who went before, while loving what you have today? It's not like I'm depressed and not coping- grieving is how you cope, it's not a timer where when the buzzer rings it's done. Grief doesn't simply end.

So, yes, I still have a hard time with pregnancy announcements, with huge bellies, with people joking about it, with births, with people talking about plans on having more like it's as easy as all that. I have trouble with people asking us when we're going to have more, like what we've been through doesn't even matter.

And sometimes I look at my son, and I wonder what the others would have looked like. He's such a perfect blending of the both of us, that you can't really pick any feature out and say, "Yes, that's definitely from me," or "That's definitely from you." I wonder if one of them have been a girl. Would she have looked like me? Would one have favored A? Could we have had another boy? Would they have been like V or completely different? Would they have been as serious and independent as V, or would one of them have been a cuddler, a joker, an explorer? I know that everyone else had already stopped thinking about them, that all they ever were for most was a passing thought. That thought hurts the most, because they were so much more to me.

I don't want them to be forgotten.

I am happy. I'm happier than I've ever been in years! But I will never forget, I will never get over it. I don't need to stop thinking about my infertility, my losses, the last 5 years of my life- I'm making peace with them, even if it takes me all my life, but I can't do that if I shove everything in the closet like some people want me to. It doesn't work like that. I'm riddled with invisible scars, constant reminders of what I've been through, and that's okay.