12/7/2018 0 Comments Compelled to writeThis is the scene of my desk these days. I actually took a picture of it because as a relatively neat and orderly person, this is not what my desk typically looks like. This speaks to me of how hard I am working at trying to make meaning out of this fertility journey and the broken pieces that come from the struggle with infertility in particular. I count no less than five journals here in the sifting. I have been desperate to get the mass of words swirling around inside of me out onto paper and capture this experience the best I can. In the timeline of our fertility process there have been months and months of waiting, followed by such flurry of activity that it takes months and months to integrate it all. I am in one of those flurries right now.
The invisibility of infertility is one of the hardest things to bear; scars on the heart and soul that ache constantly and sting regularly with the salty reminders of what is not. I wish I could describe this grief eloquently or fully, but it is hard to contain the sacred and the raw in words. Yet I am compelled to write and so I offer these sketches because I do not yet have a whole. This story is still very much in progress. I don't know how it will end, but you're welcome to come along for the ride. I hope that sharing these sketches will help me feel a little less invisible; I hope that if you're struggling with infertility these sketches help you feel a little less invisible, too.
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