Friday, October 10, 2008

Dear Friend

Jeff and I receive newsletters from a wonderful ministry of Bethany Christian Services called Stepping Stones, which offers support for couples facing infertility or pregnancy loss.  Some months ago, they included the piece below in a  newsletter.  I thought it captured the feeling of infertility better than anything I had read before.  As you probably know from my earlier posts, although we are not childless, I think that infertility is a feeling I will never forget.  (It's also how I found Glenna's blog, which you may have noticed in my short blogroll.  Glenna featured this piece as well.)


If you're so inclined and would like to step into the shoes of those in the world of infertility, please keep reading.  I think the author has captured it so well.

Dear Friend

By Kim Notehelfer

Dear Friend,

Will you be someone who understands?

Will you understand when I tell you that I need a friend who will listen as I share about my journey through infertility?

So many others have only had advice; miracle stories, herb teas, and new love-making positions.

Will you understand month after month when I need to share my disappointment from another unsuccessful attempt?

Will you understand when I tell you that I rage and pound my fists at God because he doesn't seem to hear me and take away this pain?

Will you know to pray for me when I can no longer pray for myself?
Will you know to send me a card to remind me that I am not alone?

Will you understand the tears that well up when you tell me you are pregnant?

Will you understand that I celebrate with you, yet long for the day when a friend's pregnancy doesn't remind me of my barrenness?

Will you understand when I start to pull away when your tummy begins to bulge?

As much as I long to share in the excitement, I find the ache too much as other women encircle you and the conversation turns to motherhood.

Will you understand when I don't come to your baby shower?

I can't imagine the strength I will need to hold back the tears in the midst of baby clothes, breastfeeding tips, and birth stories.

Will you understand when your baby is born and I don't come to visit right away?

Please know that I long to hold your child and congratulate you in person.  But holding a newborn in my arms spirals me into a place of envy and pain.

Will you understand that my empty arms are still heavy with the grief they carry?
Will you understand that your greatest joy is my deepest sorrow?

When the months turn into years, and you are expecting your second child
Will you understand that I still long to bear a child in my womb?

Will you still be my friend?

Printed with permission of Stepping Stones, a ministry of Bethany Christian Services

1 comments:

Glenna Marshall said...

That still resonates with me!