With each unsuccessful attempt, I have the same haunting thought.
This wasn’t how my life was supposed to be.
I know enough of the sayings about things falling apart so other things can fall into place, everything happening for a reason, being exactly where you’re supposed to be, timing is everything, creating your own happiness, counting your blessings, being happy with what you have, and blah blah blah. They’re great and inspirational. But you know what?
They’re also a crock of sh#t.
Sometimes, life is just hard. Actually, most times life is hard. Life is hard.
But it’s not just the hard times that make me think this isn’t how my life was supposed to be. It’s the great times too.
I was recently promoted at my day job after five months on the job. It’s a big promotion. I’m honored and excited by it. And it never would have happened if my twins were born. None of the recent big life changes would have happened if my water hadn’t broken in the second trimester. Not the opening of our own business. Not the big move to Martha’s Vineyard. None of it would have happened. And they’re all amazing, wonderful things.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to celebrate successes that were achieved because we lost our twins? Not that losing our twins directly resulted in any of this — but none of it would have happened if our twins had been born. Certainly not the way it has happened. As wonderful as life is right now, the huge emptiness where my children should be is the black hole I live in.
None of this is how my life was supposed to be. None of this hardship of conceiving, and none of these huge blessings.
I was supposed to give birth to twins (our daughter and son, Daphne and Theodore) in the Spring of 2013. I should be getting ready to celebrate their 1st birthday, not gleefully accepting a promotion at work. I have no guilt for the times I’m happy, but there always exists the shadow. The shadow of my life being this instead of that.
This is not how my life was supposed to be.
Yet, this is my life.
I want to smack myself some days for being such a whiny brat. What nerve I have for pining for a past I can’t say goodbye to. How ungrateful of me to not celebrate the goodness in my life every day as an unbelievable blessing.
I’ve tried to tell myself that I WILL become a mother some day. But sometimes I wonder if what I need instead is to realize that this is actually exactly how my life is supposed to be: childless. Maybe all of these other wonderful things is as good as it gets for me — and who am I to want more?