Many of you who are Facebook friends of mine recently saw my endless post about my great Aunt Alice who passed away. In our lives we are often only ever given a handful of people who impact our life so tremendously that to live our life without them in it is almost unimaginable. My Aunt Alice was one of those people.
By society's standards she didn't do anything outrageous and amazing. In my standards she did extremely amazing things. She taught me about life and what's the most important thing about it. Aunt Alice was raised in the great depression. She once said that she always thought that the only place that you got bread and milk was the local fire station. It wasn't until she was about 9 years old that she found out there were stores that you got those same items at. While she was frugal, she wasn't a miser. She gave to charities as well as family and loved to travel. I believe that she has been to almost 50 countries in her lifetime. She was a devout Catholic who volunteered her services to her church, museums, and charities. While those are all great accomplishments, her greatest accomplishment has been her family. How Aunt Alice lived was how she raised her children. Now grown adults with children and grandchildren of their own, it is evident that her surviving children are also spitting images of her generosity and caring.
So, what does this have to do with infertility and my journey with it? As I stood at that back of the living room at my Aunt's house after the funeral and I watched my cousins, new acquaintances and my family sharing with each other I heard the West Virginia accented voice of my Aunt Alice speak into my ear, "It's all about family...focus on family." What did this mean?
In dealing with infertility it isn't uncommon to feel frustrated when you are around others with children and babies. I didn't feel that at this funeral. I was overwhelmed with the sadness of the loss of my Aunt Alice. As I grieved her loss, I feared that I wouldn't have this wonderful similar situation when I was older and had passed on. Who would bury me? What if my husband died before I did, who would I have left? And I even found myself praying and talking to my Aunt Alice asking her and invoking her to take my desire to have a child to God. She has been an amazing role model as a mother. While at first I thought maybe it was just the hospitality of West Virginians, I realized that my Aunt wouldn't have raised her children any other way then to be generous, hospitable people....especially to family.
Infertility is really a family affair. If you struggle with infertility and feel alone, know that you don't have to. My cousins have been the stronghold of my not giving up hope. While I grieved at the casket, the funeral, and the cemetery, my cousins reminded me as did the priest saying the funeral mass that we would one day see her again. Hope. Hope that we will see each other again. Hope that all will be well. My family, while sometimes say or do insensitive things, still have hope for me. All in all I know that they hold out hope for my husband and I that we will still have a family of our own someday. I must still hold out hope.
My Aunt Alice was my stronghold of hope. During one of my visits to her she and I sat on her back patio and watched the hummingbirds and the morning traffic across the river. As we sat and enjoyed the morning air and each other's company and talked about how it is that we can determine what God's plan is for us, she told me one of the pieces of advice that I will never forget and that I now pass on to you all. It was simple.
"You just have to believe."
So, what does this have to do with infertility and my journey with it? As I stood at that back of the living room at my Aunt's house after the funeral and I watched my cousins, new acquaintances and my family sharing with each other I heard the West Virginia accented voice of my Aunt Alice speak into my ear, "It's all about family...focus on family." What did this mean?
In dealing with infertility it isn't uncommon to feel frustrated when you are around others with children and babies. I didn't feel that at this funeral. I was overwhelmed with the sadness of the loss of my Aunt Alice. As I grieved her loss, I feared that I wouldn't have this wonderful similar situation when I was older and had passed on. Who would bury me? What if my husband died before I did, who would I have left? And I even found myself praying and talking to my Aunt Alice asking her and invoking her to take my desire to have a child to God. She has been an amazing role model as a mother. While at first I thought maybe it was just the hospitality of West Virginians, I realized that my Aunt wouldn't have raised her children any other way then to be generous, hospitable people....especially to family.
Infertility is really a family affair. If you struggle with infertility and feel alone, know that you don't have to. My cousins have been the stronghold of my not giving up hope. While I grieved at the casket, the funeral, and the cemetery, my cousins reminded me as did the priest saying the funeral mass that we would one day see her again. Hope. Hope that we will see each other again. Hope that all will be well. My family, while sometimes say or do insensitive things, still have hope for me. All in all I know that they hold out hope for my husband and I that we will still have a family of our own someday. I must still hold out hope.
My Aunt Alice was my stronghold of hope. During one of my visits to her she and I sat on her back patio and watched the hummingbirds and the morning traffic across the river. As we sat and enjoyed the morning air and each other's company and talked about how it is that we can determine what God's plan is for us, she told me one of the pieces of advice that I will never forget and that I now pass on to you all. It was simple.
"You just have to believe."
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