“First comes love, then comes marriage…”*
You used to sing this song on the playground while running carefree with your friends.
Daydreams about having a baby have filled your head since childhood, yet you still have empty arms.
You’ve made the constant appointments with doctors and specialists, and the conclusion is what you’ve been dreading all along – infertility.
Devastated doesn’t even come close.
You and your partner feel forced to relinquish the dreams you once held so tightly.
These days, instead of talking about the next appointment, you find yourselves sitting on the couch in silence. The house feels so quiet, all filled with words already spoken and pain lingering in the air.
Feelings of confusion make it difficult for the two of you even to see one another most of the time.
Identity feels lost, and failure creeps in.
Emotions that feel uncertain – anger, grief, loneliness, rage – all consume you.
Not being able to conceive makes you feel like such a failure, and you’re constantly battling with how much this robs your value as a woman.
Your partner tries to console you, but even they don’t know what to make of the diagnosis.
You are like two ships in the night.
Daily demands turn distance into disconnection.
Neither of you knows how to talk about infertility and all the baggage accompanying the word, so more silence fills the home.
This silence is louder than any screams. It stings and deafens.
No one understands.
Another baby announcement from a friend further isolates you. It feels like fewer people could even begin to try and understand.
Meanwhile, you and your partner are on the verge of a loveless marriage, existing only in the same spaces at the night’s end before rolling over and doing the whole thing again tomorrow.
Hopelessness is setting in.
A single phone call changes everything.
When we talk that first time, you will hear how deeply I resonate with your pain – I get it. Dealing with infertility is incredibly hard, and I know how to help.
I’m ready to meet you and your partner and show you the beauty that can arise from these ashes. I will sit with you in this deep, immense grief and help you find healing you once thought impossible, even during an unknown future.
The space I offer provides hope. In this space, you can redefine your relationship and experience being a family again.
Let me help you write the next chapter. The grief journey comes in waves, but I’m here to forge these waters with you. Call today.
*– McKeon and Parry