Friday, June 12, 2015


It's baby season. Facebook makes that abundantly clear. I try not to be jealous. But it's hard not to remember that if life had gone according to our plan, we'd be holding a baby in our arms right now. Or at least pregnant and expecting Liam in September. Or if nothing else... pregnant again with hope. But none of those things is happening right now.

It's not just the jealousy. It's a reminder of isolation. Of disappointment. Of failure.

And it's even a reminder that I've been the source of bad news for 2+ months while other people have good news to share. It's difficult to describe how that makes a person feel. Like a disease, is probably a fair description.

With all of those emotions, it's easy to discount any of my accomplishments thus far in life. What was meant to be, in many ways, the capstone of my life is now a whisper and a shadow. I have no proof of the moment that made me a mother.

In some ways, it helps to remember the unrelated accomplishments in my life, and to try to give myself credit for them. I graduated college in 3 years. I have a good job that I enjoy, and that I'm good at. And I try to plan new adventures that I will enjoy even though I can't have kids yet. But it's impossible to separate myself from the identity of the mother I always hoped I would be.

The good news is that I don't have to. I am a mother. And everything I've accomplished up to this point echoes that.

I graduated college in 3 years. Because I wanted the best chance at being able to support my family if I ever needed to. Because I wanted a picture of myself in my cap and gown to show my children someday. And because I crazily thought that somehow I'd get pregnant in the first year and a half of our marriage and didn't want to have to give school my time when I had a baby.

I have a good job that I enjoy, and that I'm good at. A good job, but not incredible, because I wanted to support Kam's career so that someday I can stay home with my kids. One that I'm good at, because I knew if I was valuable enough, I could insist on working from home so I could always be with my baby. And one that I enjoy, but don't adore, because I chose to support my family rather than pursuing riskier dreams.

I have things to be proud of, even though I don't have a baby in my arms. I own a house. I make a salary. I can finally play "Liz on Top of the World" on piano. But with the exception of my marriage to Kam*, I can't find pride in any of these things without acknowledging that I did them for my motherhood. For the sake of my family.

Because although the mark he left is easy to miss, I carried and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. And that's worth being proud of.


*I married Kam because I love him, and there's no way I'd ever stop being proud of that accomplishment.

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