Every so often, I receive emails from women worldwide with stories like mine and yours. I recently received this message from someone who knows the pain of infertility and a miscarriage and negatively impacts our marriages. I have written a letter to my husband, which you can read here, but today I want you to read a letter this woman wrote to hers. It’s real. It’s raw. And it’s sincere. So take a peek. I would be surprised if, at some point, you didn’t whisper to yourself, “me too.”
Dear waiting for baby bird,
I understand what it feels like to wait for a baby bird. We have gone through steeps and valleys as we lost our first pregnancy three years ago, and despite the prayers and endless effort, we haven’t been able to conceive since. I wanted to share with you that our church held a marriage conference this past weekend, and one of the skills we learned was how to write a forgiveness letter. The purpose of the forgiveness letter is about the other person. There’s no blame, justification, or denying your own pain. But it’s truly a gift for the one you are writing it to. I modeled it for the congregation, and it was an incredibly profound experience. It was not easy by any means. In fact, I struggled in-between tears to speak. It was the first time I had ever shared such deep emotions with my husband about how he must’ve felt during our most difficult season. And it was the first time I was sharing in public such personal pain and hurt. My husband only knew that the topic would be infertility; therefore, he didn’t want me to read it to him beforehand. Needless to say, it was an incredible experience for us, and I wanted to share this letter with you and all of those who might be walking this same path.
I love you in so many ways. I adore your playful and witty sense of humor. I love that you make the bed every morning. I appreciate that you protect and provide for us. I respect and admire your courage, strength, and decisiveness in making important decisions. Your wisdom inspires me to make better decisions.
I remember the first two joyful years of our marriage. There were so many dreams I wanted to share with you, like traveling and buying a home. One of the things I was most looking forward to was starting a family with you. I was so excited when we got pregnant the first month. I remember how excited you were. Together we thought of fun and creative ways to share the happy news with our family at Thanksgiving. However, I never anticipated that our pregnancy would end in a miscarriage. I had no idea what feelings could arise after a miscarriage. I didn’t know what to feel.
At first, it was numbness, then profound sadness. I blamed myself for my body’s inability to sustain our baby. I carried the guilt of depriving you, the man I love, a family.
Soon after, I started to hear about other people getting pregnant, and with each pregnancy announcement, it crushed me. I found myself in a tsunami of emotions I didn’t know how to process. It birthed in me the ugliest and most shameful emotions: envy, bitterness, resentment, anger, and a spirit of competitiveness.
As I was dealing with all these heavy emotions, I forgot about you. I thought you were managing your emotions well and assumed you did not hurt when you heard about others conceiving and beginning their parenting journey. It didn’t occur to me that you were suffering in your own way and that you needed my support as well.
In the midst of my pain, confusion, and multiple disappointments of trying again, I shamefully treated you with contempt. I withdrew and many times rejected your advances to be intimate. During the times we were intimate, we did not make love. We had sex with a purpose…to conceive. I used you for a purpose, and I lost the fun in our lovemaking. I made conceiving a child an idol before loving you.
Ray, even though I still experience difficulty in not knowing if we will conceive, I want you to know that in the midst of our trials and difficult in-betweens, I promise to love you and make loving you my first ambition. I am so sorry I caused you so much misery, suffering, and loneliness in our marriage. I am so sorry for making conceiving a child an idol and neglecting you, your needs, and your feelings. I am so sorry that I was so immersed in my grief and my belief that no one understood my suffering, that in the midst of my own feelings of abandonment, I too was abandoning my husband. You deserve all my love, attention, and affection. You will never stop being my first love.
Will you forgive me?
I love you,
Your Mrs. M
I would love to connect with you personally, so if you liked this post, pass it on. Then come find Waiting for Baby Bird on the public Facebook page or join me on Instagram @waitingforbabybird. I can’t wait to “meet” you!
If you are looking for a faith-based infertility community of other women who “get it,” then head over to the *PRIVATE* Waiting for Baby Bird Support group for hope + encouragement. There you will find opportunities to ask for prayer, watch *LIVE* encouragement videos from me, author of “Waiting for Baby Bird,” as well as be able to share your heart with others on the same path, enter into exclusive giveaways, and so much more! So what are you waiting for? Find us here!