Friday, January 09, 2015

You exist because I yearned

I yearned for you.

I begged. 
I pleaded. 
I cried. 
I prayed. 
I sobbed. 
I grieved.

I met with any doctor who would listen. I gave myself shots. Your Daddy gave me shots. I was probed.  I was tested. I went to more appointments than I could count.

We did ultrasounds and blood draws and procedures and more ultrasounds.

We conferred and conferenced and discussed and researched and educated ourselves.

They said Clomid. We did that three times.
Three times it didn't work.

They said artificial insemination. We did that five times.
Five times it didn't work.

Then they said in vitro fertilization. We tried that four times.
Four times it didn't work.

If they said to try it, we found the money, and we tried it. We borrowed it. We scrimped for it. We gave up anything we could for it.

We did all this for you.

But still you didn't come.

We passed our fifth anniversary. Our seventh. Our ninth.

Still infertile.
Still childless.

I wanted you so badly that some days I felt like my heart could break from the desire -- form how much I yearned to hold someone I hadn't ever met.

I pictured you. 
I dreamed of you. 
I thought of you. 
I longed for you.

And so we kept pressing. Kept trying. Kept pushing. Kept hoping. Kept yearning for YOU.

Invitro? One more time?
Yes. One more.

The very last time we tried IVF, two tiny embryos were dropped into my womb. The ultrasound tech whispered, "Two little shooting stars," as the camera watched you and your sibling glide into my womb.

More waiting.
More dreaming.
More hoping.
More yearning.

And if we were honest, we would have said that we didn't believe we would ever meet you.

Today, you are here and you are 15 months old and you have long brown hair and big blue eyes and a personality that constantly tells us you will not let the world tell you who you are.

Today, you are climbing and putting fistfuls of food into your mouth and smearing spaghetti in your hair and saying new words every chance you can. You are giving huge hugs and saying, "Na!" when you plant a kiss on our cheek. You are starting to run and read books and ...

I love you.
I yearned for you.
I never gave up on you.
And because of that desire and a really cool God

I am your mom.

You exist because I yearned.

And I yearned because I loved you before I knew you.

And now I know you.

And I love you Hannah Joy.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

It's a pleasure to be your Mommy.


DDT said...

Such a nice feeling to log on to your blog and see this post (and the Friday funnies - Abigail cracks me up!). I just got home from having surgery to hopefully increase our chances of getting pregnant.

We have been working through infertility for the last few years and I have proven to be resistant to all treatments thus far with my hormone levels refusing to go up. Our doctor recommended this surgery as it should help my body respond more positively for awhile.

I am always encouraged by your posts but my heart smiled reading these today. Thank you so much for sharing your journey - the good, bad and ugly - so that others, such as myself, can see the light at the end of the tunnel.


Debbie said...

Tears. Good tears.