Walking down the path of conscious conception many are blessed with incredible friendships along the way. Some are made after the journey began, forged with shared sorrows. Others were always there, yet grow deeper in the vulnerability that comes hand in hand with opening a portal between our hearts.
However, there will come a time, inevitably there will always come a time, when one of us takes to the sky–whether by the joy of pregnancy, the miracle of adoption, or the ease of acceptance. One will always leave the fertility nest before the other. This is the way of life.
So what do we do with the emotions that come the day they fly away?
We may feel a bit like the lone baby bird left behind in the nest outside of my home this summer. All of the other chicks had taken to flight, ecstatic with the sky they had only then discovered. Yet there sat alone the one whose wings weren’t ready for the weight of the air just yet. She sat still waiting, waiting for her time.
There are emotions we would never admit out loud. Tinges of jealousy, some unexplainable anger–ok let’s be honest sometimes it can be more like the getting hit over the head with a baseball bat kind of mad, sad, and afraid.
It’s unexplainable, inexcusable. Yet it is not, not really. You see the baby showers we use to cringe at needing to attend will soon be theirs, and the baby picture plastered Christmas cards will now come from their home address.
However perhaps what is at the bottom of those dark feelings is a fear of being left, being alone again. Who will we call when the HPT is negative yet again? Who will bring the wine when we need a night to simply drown our sorrows? Who will understand this solitary journey? What if I am never able to conceive? How will I come to visit them and marvel at the miracle that forever eludes me?
During these times we may need to remember that just because a friend has taken to the sky does not mean that they have flown away. Those friends who have struggled with us, laughed with us, are cried with us are still there, still in some sense with us.
Their vantage point is now from above while we come to know once again the frustration of gravity holding our feet to the ground. We continuously jump, hoping to catch air and join them, yet it’s not our time and on the ground we must stay. When we look up however, we will see them lingering above us, watching over us, and waiting for us to take to the sky as well.
It is important to allow ourselves to feel all of the emotions that can come when infertile friends leave the nest, and it is equally important to allow those friends to move on to their next horizon without guilt over their happy departure.
One day we too will take the leap of faith and in that moment catch the wind beneath our new found wings. And until then, we must love with an open hand blessing others as they fly away, even though our hearts ache at their departure.