There is a door adjacent to our bedroom. It remains closed most of the week. It holds only a few things, a treadmill and a dresser. It held, for the longest time, potential and so we left it somewhat empty.
As I write this I’m not sure I’m ready to divulge into the thick heavy pain that I have felt over this past year. In a more accurate statement it’s pain that I have tried to ignore. I am thankful for the many trials I have seen because I can see God’s grace through them. They have built strength not of my own. Maybe this trial is what God was preparing us for. Or maybe it’s just another domino piling against the other.
TTC, an acronym that had no prior relevance to me but what once was empty letters are now boisterous intruders. Trying to conceive.
Trying and failing.
“Of course” I thought after the first few months. I have had to fight, pillage and work for things others take for granted. I became bitter. Ugly thoughts stole my reason.
Soon I became numb. Hardened yet hopeful still. Everywhere I read said it should take six months. The online literature would keep me going and friends telling me it will be fine. I think now, even then I knew.
But six months came and went and I stayed busy and tried to forget.
Then came the emotional waves of the last months. Both tides of deep crashing and some that roll by as fast as they came, still dragging me in a direction I have no control over. I grab onto the hope that I’ll make it out of this, however that looks. Mother’s day won’t be a reminder of emptiness and shame. I won’t have to pretend someone’s well-intentioned inquiries don’t sting and leave me fighting to remain stoic. Fighting.
Then come the lapses, the second child, the names that I held dear. Now occupy another home, in another crib, another family. One by one I’ve been left behind with an empty unfurnished room.
Some days are harder than others. But I have to believe that coming out in the open, being truthful with my family, friends and followers can only make each day a little easier. The effort it has taken lately to say “soon” when I don’t know if ever, is a weight I don’t want to bear anymore. The choice to be transparent is always a tough one, and will always have consequences. But I come back to this quote by Tennessee Williams
“When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone”
I’m writing this not only for me, but for the girl out there who doesn’t just sympathize with my words but lives them. My pride and comfort have to come second to that one person this needs to reach. You are not alone.
And so, I stand here with a camera and whisk in hand unabashed by my truth. Still moving forward facing each battle as it comes and that’s the beauty that I’ve found here in my blog. With each knead of dough and every measurement of flour the world just slips away. The preheating oven warms the kitchen and I have hope. Time fades and I am covered in baking dust, throbbing feet demand my attention and a sink full of dishes will not wait but yet it’s comfort. Knowing that my hard work will pay off in the end. There is control and balance and learning from each take, each bite. I may have this empty room and a glass heart, but I’m pursuing a dream I might not have realized if things had gone accordingly. It’s hope under a different name, and a journey uniquely ours.
There is no story about someone you know who had difficulties and now has five children that will change our story. There is no carefully planned speech about faith and hope that will sooth your friend going through this same situation. We have read every story; all the science, thumbed through the odds, asked our doctors 99 questions and none of it will change the fact that we might never be more than a family of two. So the best thing you can do is let them, let us, be where we are at any given moment. Don’t be uncomfortable in our struggle, and don’t be timid to share your personal joys. It’s okay when we hurt, and it’s okay when we enjoy a quiet night alone.
Month fourteen is here. Five seasons, multiple doctor appointments, and we have received both good news and bad. One year has come and gone. God has chosen my husband and I for this journey, forever in His will. I find comfort in that, too. My purpose is greater in Him than I find in my own futile plans.
I haven’t had a lot of time to spend in my kitchen lately and I miss it. I miss being able to have the time to take a proper picture of my food. But I do what I can with what I have in the time given to me. I woke up early this week to make some olive bread because that smell of baking bread, am I right? And for 45 minutes this week, there was a bun in my oven.
[sp_recipe]
Ingredients
Love you, Karlee.
*tears
Love you, Nay
Karlee my sweet girl, thank you for sharing. Love you!
Thanks Tia. Love you too!
You are so brave to share your story and be this real and true. Thank you.
Thanks so much. It is definitely brave of me. Not my thing to talk so candidly.Thanks for reading!
You are one of our special K’s (Karen, Karlee, Kimberly, Kambrea). Love you bunches, Karlee!!! ♡♡♡
Auntie Leanne
Thanks Aunt Leanne! Happy to be in the special K club. See you soon!
My sweet sister, You are now and always will be an inspiration to me! I love you ❤️
Thanks Patricia! Always my support.
Your Daddy loves you.
Love you too!
Karlee,
Thank you for sharing your story. Brave is the perfect word to use.
Its so important to share stories and lean on each other when times are hard. I told myself after the first miscarriage I wasn’t going to tell anyone next time until after baby made it past 12 weeks, but the excitement and surprise of becoming pregant again so soon….I had to share, at least with my sister’s. Plus everyone would be wondering why I wasn’t enjoying wine over the holidays like usual.
Then I lost the second pregnancy. Two in just 4 months. I’m so glad I shared with them, they were my suport system.
It’s all so scary, and disapointing and I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Lots of restless nights.
The doctors say that it’s normal but it doesn’t feel normal. To keep trying and if it happens for a third time we’ll start running tests to see if it’s a bigger issue.
A third time. I don’t know if I can handle a third time.
My heart is with you.
Sending love,
Broome
I knew we were spirit animals.thanks so much for telling me your story. My mom experienced 2 miscarriages when I was older and I remember the pain she went through. Hard not to not blame yourself even when you know that’s a lie. I agree it’s difficult but good to be honest and have that support system, if nothing at least for people to be sensitive. My heart is with you too! You will be in my prayers and thoughts. Thanks again for sharing. Such a difficult struggle for this time of year.
Love, Karlee
Love your blog and thank you for sharing your heart ❤️
Thanks so much patty!!! Hard to do but so important