Losing My Voice: An Infertility Side Effect?

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished.
That will be the beginning.”   – Louis L’Amour

Today I had to come face-to-face with my harshest critic. Stare her right in the eyes and see who backed down first. I am proud to say that I have grown better at holding my ground since those days of staring contests with my sister in the backseat of the car on long road trips. Today, I think I may actually have beaten that ridiculously tough woman, and her obnoxious glare.

Suffice it to say, that obnoxious woman is me. Well, the critical “me “who looks at my life and tells me everything I do is not near enough. The woman who whispers into my ear that because my body has been classified as such a catastrophic failure, so too am I (a catastrophic failure that is).

Today I was encouraged to let my voice be heard, really heard. To rally against my desire to bury the little flickering light that’s left inside of me under the proverbial bushel. Come on now, I know you’re humming the song in your head, go ahead, sing it out loud…”This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!” Whew, that’s better.

Now back to the mean girl in the mirror. You see, I was so sure that I had worked through the biggest hurdles in my interior world presented by the label of infertility sewn on me like the Scarlett Letter on Hester Prynne. I believed I was pretty much finished with self-loathing and self-sabotaging. Yet today I learned that just when I thought everything was finished, that was only the beginning. Today I realized just how many times, when I opened my mouth, I have lost my voice–lost my belief that there is any reason for it to be heard.

So, it is today that I will start humming, maybe just softly and quietly to myself. Then tomorrow perhaps I’ll add a few words in. And one day I’ll wake up singing and forget that I ever allowed a Scarlett I to be sewn over my lips.

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