Empty Arms and Empty Branches

Empty Arms.   Empty Branch.   Empty Solitude.

About 90% of the time the last 2 years I've been able to keep myself together when friends and family show me adorable photos of their little ones.  Let's face it, I'm overjoyed for them and their happiness and bundles of joy.  On occasion though, I don't handle it so well.  I look at them, their photos, and their perfect children and do the "why not me" song and dance.  I know, I know.  It's selfish.  But I can't help it.  I never want to take away from the happiness of another.  But why do I not get this same joy?  Why was I plagued with some life struggles that result in no children?  What do I have to do to leave a legacy behind?  I'm an only child. If I have no children, that's it for my family.  Sure, cousins will take on the name.  But my legacy stops here.  no children of my own, no children of their own... no legacy.  I'll be that spot on the family tree where the branch just stops.

** big sigh **

A few years back, I spent about 6 months getting really intrigued in ancestry and family trees.  I signed up for an account with ancestry.com and away we went!  Countless hours on the internet doing family searches.  Exploring family lines.  Occasionally there was a dead end branch.  It was always a female.  No legacy did she leave behind.  No children, no continuing tree.  It became the lopsided part of the tree that looked unbalanced.  Empty.  Soon other branches crowded around it, taking up what would have been it's space on the tree.  And soon... the dead end branch, the empty branch... soon it was over shadowed by all the other branches on the tree.  No longer a history to explore.  It was done.  The branch had dwindled to it's final growth.

Am I going to be that empty branch?

I can't be that empty branch.  Please, don't make me that empty branch.

Signing out for today...
Empty Solitude.

The Year of 35

Aw yes... the year has arrived.  I will be 35 this year.  For some reason, the general societal consensus seems to be that once you are 35,  you are washed up and past child bearing years.  I certainly hope that's not the real truth. After taking last year to alter our lifestyle to include less stress which was affecting my health.... with some other changes this year, we hope this could be our year.

I've had so many friends lately either announce a pregnancy or give birth; it's taking a toll on me for some reason as of late.  Why is it I don't have that same feeling with my newborn photography?  The personal connection to the friends I suppose?  I'm over joyed for them, don't get me wrong.  But lately when I hear or see anything related to their pregnancies, it's a mix of joy and sadness.  I find myself this year doing a lot of "why not me" questions.

The other day I pondered a lot and reflected on some feelings I was having.  I fee like some days I'm missing a purpose.  Yes I have a wonderful husband, amazing fur-baby, and a job I love.  But there's this empty feeling in my heart and soul.  A part of me is missing.  A part of me is empty.  It's quiet in this place.  I want to wake in the night to a crying baby.  I want to change my own child's dirty diapers.  I want to brush their hair, love them when they fall, guide them when they falter.  I want to see my husband's eyes in our child.  See their grandparents gush all over them.

Why not me?  Have I done something wrong to not be good enough to be a mother?

Will 2015 be our year?

As each year ends, and a new year begins, the same thought always crosses my mind...

Will this be our year?

I have no idea if it will be or not.  All I know is it's Jan 2015... and I really hope, pray and hope some more than we can achieve some goals this year to have a family of our own.  I'm 35 years old.  I love what I do for a career, I love my husband and our life.  I feel so empty inside!

Am I going to be 40 years old, with no child of my own?  Am I ever going to hear the words "Mom, I love you"??  Some days I feel hopeful.  At the current moment, I'm discouraged.  There are no words to describe what I feel like, at 35, no children of my own.  I feel like I've failed at something.  Or is something trying to tell me I'm just not good enough to be a parent?  All too often those thoughts cruise through my mind.  They swarm around my heart, consume me... bring me down.  Destroy me.  Why me?  What have I done to deserve this battle?  Why can't we catch a break?  Am I ever going to be a Mom?

"Is it hard to be around the newborns?"

So the 3rd post into this blog is a good time to share with you what I do.  I'm a professional photographer, and one area I specialize in is newborn art photography.  The kind where you prop them up on soft pretty blankets, and snuggle them with lots of layers in fun baskets and buckets...adorning them with cute props to make it "just perfect".  I LOVE newborn art photography... but it's a special kind of photography that requires a lot of passion, dedication and hard work to make these sessions a success.

I'm often asked by friends and clients alike, "is it hard to be around the newborns".  Obviously these people that ask this know that I suffer from IF.  I don't just open with that with my newborn clients, but often they ask during a session if I have children.  I'm not shy... and although I don't share the nitty gritty details, I no longer struggle with telling people, I suffer from IF.

But the question still is there... is it hard?  Sure.  If I focus on it and think about it constantly, yes, it's hard.  But I find a lot of peace and joy in photographing newborns.  So although it's hard... I love what I do, and will continue with it no matter my IF journey.  Not going to lie... I hope one day I'm photographing my own newborn ☺.

"If You Can't Have Kids Naturally, You Weren't Meant To Be A Parent".... said the meanest person ever

You will find me bounce all around my story since I'm starting well into it..... keep up with me :)

There's always the friend that is there for you.  But there is always the friend that isn't.  I never knew there was the friend that would hurt you with words so harsh they stabbed you in the heart.

A friend once said to me... "If You Can't Have Kids Naturally, You Weren't Meant To Be A Parent".  He, yes it was a he... was not saying this to me, but in context in a conversation we were having.  At the time, he didn't know much about my IF story.  As he said that, I informed him what a cold hearted cruel person I thought he was for saying that, basically, I went off on him.  How can someone say I'm not meant to be a parent.  Are you saying I'm not good enough?  Just because you and your spouse can think about getting pregnant and do with out hardly a thought to it, does that make you a better parent?  Yes I went off... used some colorful language... it was not my proudest moment.  Or was it?

He had no idea of my story.  No clue about my journey, my struggles, my let downs.  Once his statement had a personal impact on someone, it all of a sudden had a stronger meaning.  Yes after a long talk he apologized, the pain was already there.  It's not the first time I'd heard that.  In those specific words, yes... but I'd heard that "thought" before.  From strangers, from friends... even my family.   People that do not struggle with IF might be able to have compassion, and understanding even with out the struggle.  But there are most definitely those that never give it a thought, do not think about it even once, and never realize how painful of a journey it is.  Words slice... the next time you speak...remember you don't know the other person's journey.  Share your words, not pain.

I'm not yet a parent... but I'm a good person... and will be a good parent when my time comes.  I'm not a parent... but I have a heart... a soul... and I hurt just like you.  I'm not a parent...and I alone live in my empty solitude.

Where do I begin?

Are they tired of hearing me talk about it?

Are they thinking "why won't she just move on"?

It's been 2 years since we had our failed IUI cycles.  Yes... IUI.  This blog is my outlet, my story, my place to "say it out loud".  That baby I haven't been able to have... that family I haven't been able to tuck in at night... my friends and family might not hear me talk about it often anymore, but that doesn't make it less real.  I just stopped talking about it.  Some told me they were tired of hearing about it.  Others seemed to just stop listening.  And it hurt... it just never stopped hurting to talk about it.

Empty Solitude....welcome to my journey.