The unspoken feelings on Father’s Day

We’re in Ontario visiting my parents. I just listened to them go on and on about what gender the babies will be for my sister-in-law and my sister (because surprise! She’s almost 5 months pregnant but hasn’t officially told my brother or I).

Back in February, my parents had an intuitive reading done. This woman said they would have one more boy and one girl grandchild.

Finding out my sister is pregnant left me feeling gutted as my Dad keeps referencing this psychic prediction. Each time he does, it’s like the dagger of infertility digs a little deeper. He doesn’t get how painful it is to think what we might have to go through to try for another child and that we may never get the chance to have another.

If we can’t, I’ll need to process another round of failure and grief to find acceptance in our situation. Still, the uncertainty is scary.

I know that intuition can be off. This woman may not have seen what the future holds for my husband and I. Life is moldable. Energy changes each instant.

It doesn’t help that it’s Father’s Day. Any occasion associated with parenthood stirs up all the emotions inside me related to infertility and loss.

It doesn’t help that my Dad referenced my husband’s ”First Father’s Day”, forgetting about our Emme and the fact that Mike has been an amazing father to get our fur babies for years before that.

It doesn’t help that as my Dad went on and on, a close friend of mine who is living a child free life posted about their infertility struggles on Facebook. We get their pain.

So for today, I’m going to accept that they still don’t ”get it”.  I’m going to enjoy my last day at the beach by taking in the warm sun, feeling the cool breeze off the lake, and sending love and light to all the Fathers out there.

Whether you hold your children in your arms or only your heart, I see you. I honour you. I feel with you. ❤

Happy Father’s Day to my husband Michael. Wyatt, Emme and our brood of fur babies are so blessed to have you.

Finding connections when we least expect them

Besides mothering, what could we have in common?

She has 3 beautiful daughters each spaced 2 perfectly planned years apart. Clearly not infertile. 

I enjoyed her company though. We chatted about motherhood – breastfeeding, cosleeping, returning to work. I felt a sense of normalcy to finally be able to relate to an acquaintance on a level I never could have before.

Finally, I mentioned that Wyatt was an IVF baby.

She asked, “Is he your first?”

“No, we had a loss before him.”

“Me too. I lost my first baby too.”

And just like that, I realized my judgement was so wrong.

It’s the things you can’t see, the words often left unspoken, the pieces of the story that hurt when they are said out loud that bind us together.

I see you warrior Momma.

And thank you for sharing your truth with me. ❤