“baker baker baking a cake
make me a day
make me whole again
and i wonder what’s in a day
what’s in your cake this time”

calliope at creating motherhood has suggested that today, our extra day, be used for remembrance, for grief, for lifting up those friends that need it most.  what a beautiful idea for dealing with what so many of my friends and i consider such an ugly burden.

infertility has forever changed the fundamentals of my being.  almost two years have passed since i suffered through the last of my ivf cycles.  physically, my body seems to have recovered from that violation.  emotionally, i am damaged beyond repair.

i mourn the loss of that whole, hopeful person i once was.  even though he’d never admit it, i’ve also crushed my husband’s dreams of normalcy.  i can’t help but wonder how many maybebabies there were that we never knew, that never stood a chance.  i’m heartbroken for my friends who are still fighting the uphill battle towards motherhood and those who are suffocating under the crushing weight of loss.

maybe today i’ll file away some of my bitterness and anger.  so much of it i carry around in secret.  after all, i have my beautiful, perfect little girl here in my arms. what about my friends who don’t?  don’t they better deserve to wear their heartache like a badge of honor.  aren’t i supposed to just get over it and just be happy?  i want to, but i know i never will.

“one moment in her presence and you can forget the rest. for the girl is second best to none…”

a year ago, today we welcomed our daughter into the world.  she had already been a part of our world for months, but this, this was her big debut.

it was scary.  it hurt.  a lot.  a whole lot.  nothing went according to any of the well thought out plans, not a, b or c.  there were drugs, fevers, emergencies, scalpels, no time for tears or fears and then, plenty.  slice.  pull.  snip.  and just like that, our star was born.

her ten tiny toes, her perfect mouth, her little hands that held on to our fingers, they were all small miracles.  the sum of her parts, she was the biggest miracle of them all. did all of these people swarming around us

know?  did they know she was the one?  the one of so many infertility treatments, the one ivf protocol that finally worked?  the one embryo that implanted?  the only one that would ever be a baby in our arms? the one dream that we dreamt for oh-so-long that finally came true?  we knew.

the 365 days that followed helped fade some of my feelings over the whole experience, how it all shook down that day and over the week that we spent there.  or maybe now i just don’t have the time and energy to fixate on those memories.  i’m too busy chasing after nugget, picking up her toys, reading her story after story, too busy being her mommy.  and i love every single moment of it; i live for it.

“she’s the one.”