Yesterday I put up a very personal post on Instagram and was overwhelmed by the response. I admit, when I shared the story, I did it so I could get it printed in my Chatbook series, but mainly so I could remember how sweet Andrew was. What really overwhelmed me was how everyone latched onto the sadness of the journey to children. I was not anticipating that at all.
I don't talk about fertility much anymore, to anyone. Andrew and I don't talk about it much, I don't really discuss it with friends and family. Not on social media. I just...don't. It's become such a normal part of life, that it doesn't preoccupy my thoughts in the way it used to, nor do I feel like I need to discuss it when nothing has changed.
But every so often, and the moments are pretty far removed from each other, I am overwhelmed with sorrow. The sensation comes out of nowhere and is completely inexplicable. That's what happened on Saturday.
I tell you this to explain that by and large, we're okay. I'm okay. Compared to some journeys, I feel like we're doing pretty well. Life has been throwing all sorts of other adventures in our path that I know we need to experience first.
That said, thank you. There aren't enough "thank you"s available, nor words in my vocabulary deep enough to convey my emotion to your words. Truly. With each new message that came in, and there were many, I felt our reservoir of love and support fill until overflowing. Each ,"We love you," and "We're praying for you," was heard and felt and propels us forward. And friends, I am absolutely blown away by how many of you responded. You're amazing!