Today Kate and I met a friend out for lunch. This friend is trying to get pregnant and has miscarried twice. She wanted to pick my brains on doctors, the process of getting a diagnosis, support, etc. It's such a strange situation for me now. When I was struggling with my infertility before Kate, I was so overwhelmed by my total grief I could do almost nothing else. I could talk of nothing else. The rest of the world kind of fell away for a long time.
But today I just felt so helpless. I could talk about how I used to feel - but it seems so very long ago. I don't really remember what it was like. It's hard to force myself to remember being so broken and wounded and hurt and lost and feeling like the world had let me down. It's hard to try to look back at that when Kate is feeding me ketchup-laden french fries and blowing bubbles in her milk glass. I want to help my friend. I would do anything to keep those I love from that same pain. But I don't want to look back. I want to look forward.
So I said what I could, but I still walked away afraid that my comments weren't helpful - or worse, that somehow I unknowingly said something hurtful. And it makes me realize how much Kate has healed that big, gaping hole - how she has filled that emptiness to the point where I'm overflowing.
I'm so incredibly grateful.