It would be easy today to talk about what I don’t have. The tears I’m crying today. The physical pain I can still feel.

And I could. Because I am feeling all of those things.

And I have two beautiful children and a wife who loves me and I am intensely grateful for them.

But I want to talk about four other very special people. Four people who have come together in my world somehow because of that cycle. At least, that’s how I see it.

I’m not one of “those” bloggers. With hundreds or thousands of readers hanging on my every word, making money off every click into my site. Nobody calls me or emails me to review products for free (despite how many times I’ve pleaded with Apple to let me review an iPad), and nobody invites me to fancy blogger conferences where they give away swag.

And I couldn’t care less.

Because my blog has brought me four very special people.

Michelle. Somehow we randomly found each other’s blogs when she was pregnant with her daughter. We stayed in touch via blog comments, and through my ever-changing blog addresses. She’s become my closest friend. We talk almost every day. We help each other through the hard crap and rejoice in the good stuff and I can’t wait to watch our children grow up sharing in that friendship. I’m grateful to have her on my side. She’s that friend. The one you look at and say, “how did we not become friends sooner?” because it feels like you’ve always been there for each other.

Korin. Korin found me by way of Michelle initially. The two of them are old friends, and Michelle told me to start reading Korin’s blog and Korin to start reading mine and that was that. We hit it off immediately. Korin is funny, irreverent, brutally honest, and possesses this awesome ability to sit in the crap with you but still help you see how it’s all survivable without being trite. When I grow up, I want to be Korin.

Pumpkin. What can I say about my Pumpkin? She found my blog by way of Stirrup Queen’s Lost and Found blog. As soon as it became clear things were going down the path they went down with my FET, I got a comment from her about sending me cookies. Cookies? From a stranger? We emailed back and forth a few times and it was clear she was no stranger. She was a sister. Is a sister. Almost immediately our emails turned to texts and it was like we’ve always been friends. I don’t know anyone who can kick my ass at words with friends better than she can, and she’s that person I know will hear me and look at all angles of a situation with me (and sometimes I think she’s got me beat in that category too) and not be annoyed by my need to do so. I love her and will jump through fire to make sure she knows I’m in her corner.

Roccie. What is there to say about Roccie? I’m pretty sure she got here either by way of Pumpkin or at least the same way Pumpkin got here. Roccie’s beautiful, hysterical, irreverent, and downright the easiest person to adore. Behind that sparkling smile is someone who has experienced a lot of pain, and yet her joie de vivre is contagious. Sometimes I’ll post something and I’ll know, a comment from her is coming. But she’s not the type to comment right away – she’ll sit with it. And then she’ll hit you with something – an anecdote or a thought process, you hadn’t even connected before. There’s something in the way Roccie approaches the world that makes me want to be more like her.

Taken individually, having these women in my life would alone make me thrilled. But something happened a few months ago. Korin suggested we make “mixed tapes” for each other with music that spoke to us after the five of us had sort of started talking as a group. And a sisterhood was born. The convergence of these personalities, these amazing women who all have amazing stories to tell, created a circle of support and a lifeline that we all needed. It continues to become clear how much we all need each other, and the reasons why aren’t as important as the fact that we all just get each other.

I love these women. If I were stranded on a desert island with my family I’d have to make sure they could come too. I’ll fold paper cranes until my hands bleed, crochet a thousand mandalas, get on a plane, do whatever I have to do to make sure these women in my life know how much I care because that’s the kind of thing they’ve done for me.

Today. They’ve all checked in with me. They’re all dealing with their own crap and they checked in. Just to say they love me and are thinking of me. And as someone who struggles with feeling like I don’t want to be a bother to anyone or be the center of attention, I welcome their texts and emails and phone calls.

I’m crying today. For what it should have been, for the baby(ies) who should be coming home today. I’m crying in gratitude for what I have. For the family I’m blessed with.

And I’m crying for the honor of being called friend by four women it’s an honor to know. I don’t know what I did without you before, and I’m so happy to have you in my life now. As I say often, “thank you for you.”


6 thoughts on “EDD

  1. Holy shit. Geez, K. This is so beautiful I can hardly stand it. Leave it to you to take tragedy and find gratitude. And yet you are so right. Without this quintumvirate (which can’t possibly be a word), I do not know how I would have lived through the last few months of my life. I would have been so very lonely and sorely lacking an outlet for authentic self-expression. Because no one else gets it and me in it the way you all do. In therapy, I refer to you simply as “my sisters” and marvel aloud regularly–along with my therapist–at the blessing you all are. That I was invited to join what began as the mix-cd collective is due entirely to you. I can. Not. Thank you enough. Throughout this cycle, whenever something has taken place that needs sharing, I have had to remind myself to tell N first, and then the Sisters, because you all seem such a natural first stop.

    And today. Dammit, K, I want you to be coming home with that baby or those babies–some tangible take-home that knows how much you love him/her/them and how desperately loved and wanted he/she/they is/are. I hold your hand and your heart in my heart today and always. I love you so much.

  2. I have had to digest this for some time as well. I thought an idea would come to me sooner, but it just never did. It does not seem adequate to respond with an “I don’t know what to say”. But I don’t.

    You ever hear anyone speak about the types of love that people offer to one another? Some are demonstrative, some are physical and some are verbal, etc.

    You have a great gift in the way you share your feelings. You let them out easily and wrap them up in this poetic delivery mechanism.

    One of the things I admire about this group is the ease with which everyone exchanges “I love you”. I think the hearts count too, when delivered a certain way.

    The “I love yous” dont come easily for me. Take a look. I stumble when it is the exact right thing to say. I feel it, I just cannot express it.

    I am so grateful to have you around. To see what you say, how and when you say it. How it makes people feel – never take a thing for granted. You are on my mind a lot. We share a lot of secret laughs, you know? I see something and think how much you would like it too.

    Thank you for making me feel I am not always on the taking end of this relationship. You have much to give and my need is great. A match made in heaven.

  3. Pingback: Wish Right Now | Where Love and Chaos Reign

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