My Body is a Temple: Running Through Lent


The other day I was running in the treadmill at the YMCA. And I looked down at the clock. And I was filled with awe. I had been running for fifteen minutes without even really thinking about it. Sure, I was distracted by something trashy on daytime TV. But when I started the c25k program in January even those baby steps seemed tough. Running a whole minute was a challenge. And now three? And then five? Then eight? The first time it jumped to ten I thought I’d die.

Even a few days before, during my first run back from vacation, I had trouble finishing the whole 20 minutes. I walked for a bit in the middle. And here I’d run 15 like it was nothing.

I spent a good part of that run thinking about the phrase “Fearfully and wonderfully made.” My run became a prayer of thanks. Thanks for my body, and its design. A body that is so adaptive we can do things one day we thought impossible the day before.

I wasn’t raised in the tradition of giving things up for Lent. I was always under the assumption that it was just for Catholics. And we weren’t Catholic. My friends at school always seemed to forget anyway. Or they would give up something unimportant to them. Or they would just skate by using the letter of the law. “I mean, these are sugar free, so it’s not REALLY candy, right?”

As an adult, though, I have some to understand Lent as a period of preparation. A time when we make a sacrifice as thanks for the ultimate sacrifice. A time of reflection and thanksgiving. I’ve realized we don’t actually have to give things up. We can add to our lives. Last year during the Lent season I finished my memoir “Hope Springs.” This year by Easter I want to have sent it to as many agents as I have information for. I’m about halfway through the list and have gotten stuck. Easter gives me a deadline.

But there’s something else I want to do this year. I want to run. Because I can. Because God gave me a body that can run a little further every day. And I’m thankful for that. After finishing my first 5k a few weeks ago, I’m now going to continue my training with the 10k program.

Of course during Lent we all want to read our Bibles more. (And by more, I mean at all for a lot of us.) So during my runs I’ll be listening to an audio version of the Old Testament. I have one with music and a cast of stars and sound effects that occasionally make it sound like Lost.

I’ve already taken a few runs this way and learned a few things. First, the “begats” are not helpful for running uphill. I can’t imagine this making it into my training playlist at any point. Second, the story of Abraham and Sarah is no less painful for me hearing it compared to reading it. And I always get a little worried I’m gonna get pregnant at 90. Let’s all agree together that won’t happen. In Jesus’ name Amen. Finally, running and listening gives me an interesting opportunity to listen. And question. And wonder.

I’ll keep you updated. Anyone have any Lent projects they want to share?

13 Lessons from 2013

Happy First Monday of the New Year, everybody!

I’ve never been so very into celebrating the new year. Maybe it’s because I’m a teacher. So to me, the new year happens in September. But this year, I’m participating in the reflection. Maybe that’s because I spent two days in the car driving from Connecticut to Alabama to see my sister and nephews. (And three days driving back. See “Why My Daughter is Crying.“) Long car rides are excellent times for reflection. Whatever the reason, I present to you…. Thirteen lessons I learned in 2013.

1. Lists are an excellent way to cover all of the topics I meant to cover over the past few weeks but couldn’t because I was busy with holiday prep and a kid with a broken arm.

2. I really need deadlines and accountability to get any writing done. I made my goal public when I wanted to finish my bookby Easter. And it worked! I need to keep doing that. So hey. Guess what. I’m going to start submitting it to agents next week. Ask me about it, K? I’m also participating in a writing group in NYC. Time to start one of the two books I have brewing in my head.

3. My kid really can’t have artificial food coloring. Not at all. Not even a little bit. I wrote about it here and here. And then I promised a follow up called “I Heart the Kardashians.” And. Well. I think I’ve already established that I’m behind in my blogging. So. Operation No Food Dyes Ever continues to be a success, even through the holidays. Lily just doesn’t want them and won’t eat them, even if Mommy and Daddy aren’t around. (She was offered a blue cookie at school and told her teacher she couldn’t have it. She was given applesauce instead. Thank you, Lily’s school, and thank you Lily.) But we did hit a snag when we realized it was in make-up. That might not seem like such a big deal for a 4-year-old. But she likes to play with lip gloss and chap stick. It’s not that she’s allowed to wear make-up. She likes to play with it. And Chapstick is like, a dollar. So it’s an easy reward. You can imagine the drama, then, when I tried to buy her a cherry Chapstick, thought to check the ingredients, and yep, red dye. UGH. Lily and I then spent the next 45 minutes or so checking the ingredients of every “mouth stick” (her word for it. Cute, right?) at CVS. And they all. Had. Artificial. Dye. And she was getting more upset by the second. (Because she was also tired and hungry.) I get that I could have said sorry, no mouth stick for you, scooped her up, and forced her into the car. But I was frustrated for her. She’s a kid, and this was even more of a restriction than I ever imagined. Finally. FINALLY. I saw the Kardashian Beauty line. I should make it pretty clear that I have very few opinions about the Kardashians in any way. But they made a drugstore line of make-up with natural ingredients. And for that, they have my thanks and respect. (And yes. I know all about Burt’s Bees. They didn’t have any.)

4. Speaking of my daughter ‘s beauty routine. I’ve written and spoken quite a bit about our struggles with her hair. Things got even more complicated when she broke her arm and it was hard to take a bath. But we have discovered a solution that works for her. I call it… THE FAUX FRO. Lily likes to wear the style she calls “Lily Hair,” which is just out and free. It’s really cute and matches her personality. She hates braids and other protective styles. But she can’t wear it free all the time. It would get way too tangled and lock up. So. Here’s what the Faux Fro looks like. Yes, the picture is blurry. Because my kid is never still. Ever.


It looks basically just like her hair is out and loose. But really it’s about 20 small ponytails.
It’s not perfect. But it works for now.

5. The Battle of the Hair is a part of transracial adoption that we “knew about” but couldn’t possibly have understood. It is one of the tough parts. But this year I experienced a beautiful part as I read Lily the book “Born From The Heart.”. I saw it at a bookstore by chance, and a few minutes later was crying like an idiot. I bought a copy for Lily, one for a good friend of hers who is adopted and had a birthday coming up, and one for each set of young cousins. I read it to Lily when I got home that night and we had the following conversation.

Lily: Did he come out of her belly?
Me: No he came out of someone else’s belly which makes him…?
Lily: Adopted! Oh! I was born in YOUR heart!
Me: That’s right sweetheart. You sure were.
Lily: I wish you could have a baby in your belly.
Me: You know what? Me too. Some mommies just don’t have babies in their bellies. But it’s ok, because I have you.

“Born From the Heart.” Go buy it.

6. And speaking of adoption and never having carried a baby in my belly. I am realizing more and more that baby showers and pregnancy announcements are still difficult for me. They might always be. And I am trying to give myself more grace in that. You might have a friend who has struggled with infertility. Maybe that friend eventually became a parent through adoption. Her difficulty with pregnancy announcements and baby showers doesn’t mean she doesn’t recognize that she is a mother now. And she doesn’t need you to explain to her thar she is a mother now. Please just extend her the grace I am trying to extend to myself.

7. And speaking of extending grace to myself… I have been attempting to fly with Flylady for seven or eight years. Sometimes I feel like I really am flying. And sometimes, I am such a mess I can only describe myself as grounded. A few weeks ago I had one such grounded morning. I needed to take Lily to school and there wasn’t any clean laundry and there was nothing to pack in her
Iunch and I couldn’t find anything to wear myself and I was tripping over things and I was just a mess. And I cried.

I’ve been trying to figure out how this happens when Flylady’s methods are so clear.

But I know the problem.

I am a perfectionist.

It’s part of my depression. An all-or-nothing attitude. But that doesn’t mean I have to give in to that attitude.

I am tired of hurrying. And. I am tired of things needing to be perfect. In 2013 I realized that I need to Keep Calm and Stick to the Routine. And in 2014, that’s what I intend to do.


8. And speaking of depression… One thing I’ve learned in the first few months of having this blog is that I generally get the most hits when I write about depression. (Well, depression and the Marching 110.) This tells me that I need to keep writing about depression. Not because I am trying to get more readers (although that’s always nice!) but because people must need to read about it. I find it interesting that people are often reading those posts in particular late at night. (Isn’t technology neat? The fact that I even have that information just blows my mind sometimes. But don’t worry, I don’t know WHO is reading my blog! Just which posts are being read.) Night time can be tough for people with depression. I will keep writing about it. And if you are a person with depression reading this right now and it’s late- go to bed.

9. And speaking even more about depression…. My Facebook friends know that we had a ridiculous battle with our apartment management a little while ago over our cat. We got it worked out, and I made an Epic Stories video. And I never posted it. I speak at the end about making a video the following week for Christmas. Whoops. Never happened. But here it is. My Epic Story about Dexter and how he is now a Certified Emotional Support Animal. Card-carrying. Literally? Yes. (Well, no. He HAS a card. But he doesn’t carry it. Cuz. No thumbs.)

10. And speaking of my cat. He bites. Not often. But sometimes when he gets spooked. And this is apparently a problem, if it is a bad enough bite. You can read all about that here.

11. And speaking of going to the doctor. It turns out it’s important to find the right one. When Lily broke her arm, we saw the doctor that was suggested to us at the ER. He had no idea what to do with a four-year-old. He was honestly, legitimately confused that she wouldn’t be still while he set her arm. “Why didn’t he get someone strong to sit on her?” -Every parent I have talked with since. (And, incidentally, this is exactly what the pediatric guy did.) It’s amazing how we just trust doctors because they know things we don’t. But. As my 9th grade biology teacher pointed out. You know what they call doctors who just barely make it? Doctor. From now on, major research will be done before any of us see any medical professional.

12. And speaking of seeing medical professionals. Our family does not have health insurance. I’ve written about it a whole bunch. It is not a long-term plan. We were covered by the clinic at Greenwich Hospital until this past September, when we discovered that we will now “make too much.” Since we were dropped from the clinic, Mommy got a cat bite and Miss Lily broke her arm. Because that is how these things work. We are now eligible for affordable coverage (like, a third of what it would have been) through the Affordable Care Act. I understand parts of it are a mess. But at its core- the part where it offers coverage to people like us- it may save our lives. I really REALLY have trouble finding political fault in the idea of the ACA itself. Sorry I’m not sorry. You can post as many political memes as you like. Just remember. When you’re talking about “those people,” you’re talking about me.

We did have insurance for a long time. I wrote about the peace of mind that we used to have. You can read my feature here.

13. And speaking of being featured in the media. I’ve been really fortunate in the past few months to have tons of media exposure. My lesson in this? It is both awesome and super scary. Some of the forms of exposure makes me feel more….exposed… than others. But I get responses to all of them that they helped someone. So Imma keep doing it. (Yep. I said Imma. It’s to balance the fact that I spent so much time on my list making it lead from one subject to the next to the next. That took a lot of work. As a reward, I get to say Imma.) Some of the exposure has been so exposing I haven’t even posted it. But you can see all of it in one place on my News page. 🙂

Matt Walsh is Anti-Adoption

OK let’s start with this. I seriously doubt Matt Walsh is anti-adoption. He said some things earlier this week that made me feel like he must be (more on that later…) but I would be shocked to learn that those are his views. The title is simply irony used for shock value- a writing technique that’s a favorite of Mr. Walsh himself. (Recent titles include “But seriously why is polygamy still illegal,” and “I am a racist.”)

For those of you unfamiliar with Matt Walsh, he’s a radio DJ and blogger whose sarcastic style and conservative Christian views have earned him hundreds of thousands of fans. Some of his more popular posts get millions of hits in the first day. I learned about Matt through one such popular post- one concerning motherhood. And while I disagree with the vast majority of what he says I continue to read almost daily for three important reasons. First, I occasionally agree with him. Second, I find some of his views interesting even if I happen to disagree. And third, I want to make sure I’m not being brainwashed by the neo-liberal thought police Matt warns us about. (That’s the only reason I could possibly be a Christian liberal, right? Brainwashing? It’s not possible that a well-educated person like myself could have facts, know Jesus, AND still be a liberal, right? RIGHT???) Really though, as much as Matt would hate to accept it, lots of liberals read opinions from both sides. I am one such liberal, and he is one such representation of what is generally the other side.

So I found myself reading the Matt Walsh blog on Tuesday. The title of the post was one already mentioned above, “But seriously why is polygamy still illegal.” It was an unsurprising attack on gay marriage. As a conservative Christian, I get that Matt is not going to be in favor of granting marriage rights to same-sex couples. I get that. But I was interested in his “where do you draw the line?” argument. At least it wasn’t the “next people will be able to marry dogs” argument. (Hint: dogs can’t give consent.) For me the line is clearly drawn: two adult humans committing to spend their lives with each other. As partners. If more than two people are involved it isn’t the same kind of commitment. So marriage, to me, is two adult humans committing to spend their lives together.

But Matt Walsh defines it differently. He states that marriage is “the foundation for the procreative union between a man and a woman.”

And that’s when the needle slid across the record in my brain.

Here’s a picture of my family.


This past Monday- the day before Matt gave us the definitive answer for what marriage should be- my husband and I celebrated thirteen years of marriage. For the past four years we have added “Mommy and Daddy” to our list of roles. For those of you unfamiliar with the basics of genetics, I have a secret. We did not create that child. She is ours. But we did not create her.

According to Matt Walsh, our marriage is a sham. Because sadly, our union has not been procreative.

When I say sadly, I assure you that I mean sadly. Any regular readers know how much I mean that. I wrote a whole book about just how sad it was. Still is, really. While I don’t question God’s plan that our daughter was always going to be OUR DAUGHTER regardless of the womb in which she was carried, I do wish we could procreate. It just wasn’t in God’s plan for us.

So I guess God doesn’t recognize our marriage under the Matt Walsh Rules of Being Married. That makes me sad. And a little confused.

(Before I continue, I saw someone arguing in the comments section of Matt’s Facebook page that a couple wouldn’t KNOW that they were infertile before they got married. First of all, seriously dude? Second, injury, age, illness… Those are all issues that could tell a couple for certain that conceiving was not in their future. And third, seriously dude? Like, for real?)

Now obviously Matt Walsh does not think my marriage- my happy, Christ-centered, family-oriented, healthy, church-going marriage- is invalid due to infertility. He seems like a nice enough guy in many respects. And he seems to believe in what the Bible says. And the Bible encourages adoption. So we can assume that Matt Walsh is pro-adoption. (especially considering his views on abortion.)

But wait.

Matt likes to do this thing where we either believe in something whole-heartedly, or we don’t. He is an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And he asks tough, all-or-nothing, either-this-is-true-or-it-isn’t questions of his readers nearly every day.


Marriage is the foundation for the procreative union between a man and a woman.

Or it’s not.

So is it, Matt? Do you stand by your definition?

I assume it has to be a man and a woman because otherwise it can’t be procreative.

And if it’s a man and a woman but they can’t be procreative, well we understand. They can still be married. As long as it’s a man and a woman.

Because if it’s two men or two women, they can’t make babies.

And God wouldn’t want people to be married if they can’t make babies.

Wait, no. I didn’t mean that. Now I’m all flustered.

It’s not because of the babies thing. Obviously you can still be married even if you can’t procreate.

OK. So let’s adjust it.

Marriage is the foundation for the union between a man and a woman. And it has to be between a man and a woman- not because of
the procreate thing, but because, well, that’s what marriage is.

Look. Matt Walsh can feel however he likes about gay marriage. He can blog about it and rally the troops and fight the law if he likes. But
when he tries to argue that homosexual marriage is wrong, his only reasoning is circular logic.

Either “it’s wrong because it’s wrong,” or “your marriage should only count if you can have babies.”

Matt, I think your opinion is pretty clear. It’s wrong because it’s wrong. Fine. But don’t try to sway the masses with arguments that don’t hold any water.

Throwback Thursday: The A to Z Challenge Edition

Remember that time I spent hours- HOURS- linking 26 posts to one master post, and none of the links worked?


That time is directly below.

I’m way too sleepy to fix it, but will fix it in the morning while I have a cup of coffee or four.

In the meantime, all of the posts are available. You just have to click through individually.


OK so technically on the east coast it’s not Thursday any more. But since this was a 26- part series and none of those parts had been moved from my old blog to the new site, I suppose I can cut myself a little slack.

Last April I completed the A to Z Challenge. Here is the whole alphabet, in alphabetical order. (As opposed to backwards Z to A, which is how it appears on the old blog, since it lists newest to oldest.) Having it listed A to Z makes me happy. Here it is.

20130927-000555.jpg A is for Animals

20130927-000806.jpg B is for Bedtime, Budgets, and Beets

20130927-001557.jpg C is for Cinderella

20130927-001718.jpg D is for Dance Class

20130927-002026.jpg E is for Emissions Test

20130927-003854.jpg F is for Flylady

20130927-004611.jpg G is for Greenwich

20130927-004708.jpg H is for Hair

20130927-005024.jpg I is for Infertility

20130927-005141.jpg J is for Jump

20130927-005245.jpg K is for Kisses

20130927-005350.jpg L is for, well… L

20130927-005508.jpg M is for Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?

20130927-010205.jpg N is for Nia Vardalos

20130927-010311.jpg O is for Older

20130927-010404.jpg P is for “Progress, Not Perfection”

20130927-010529.jpg Q is for Quiet

20130927-010624.jpg R is for Routine

20130927-010722.jpg S is for Smitty

20130927-010822.jpg T is for Things You Can Never Ever Say to Someone Dealing With Infertility

20130927-010944.jpg U is for Unimpressed

20130927-011038.jpg V is for Veterinarian

20130927-011136.jpg W is for Words

20130927-011235.jpg X is for X-Ray

20130927-011332.jpg Y is for YMCA

20130927-011428.jpg Z is for Zebra

T is for Things You Can Never Ever Say to Someone Dealing with Infertility

…Even though you really want to.

Like, Ever.


This blog was originally posted to recognize Infertility Awareness Week. (Not celebrate. Just recognize. Infertility is never celebrated.) I’ve decided to bring back an oldie, but a goodie. Or at least, a relevantie. I’ve updated it for our purposes here.

Much love to all of you going through this.

In May of 2010, right around my daughter’s first birthday, I posted a brief history of her adoption. Minutes later, I panicked. What kind of Pandora’s box had I just opened???? I braced myself for the unsolicited advice.

Then I realized I didn’t have to accept it. (The advice. Sadly, the infertility is out of my control.) I had a forum. I’d just rebut the comments before they came in. Here’s what I had to say:

– Maybe it was your thyroid, that can often lead to infertility. (My reaction- it was not. That is only true if your levels are off. Mine are not, they are regulated quite well with medication. It’s been checked. Lots of times. By lots of doctors. But thanks.)

– Maybe all of the trying and worrying was the problem. (My reaction- it was not. There is actually NO scientific evidence to support this. None. I guarantee I have done more research about this than you. But thanks.)

– My friend… (fill in the blank with a thousand possible scenarios)… You should try that. (My reaction, most likely, is “I have.” But thanks.)

– Everything happens for a reason, also known as It’s all in God’s Time. (My reaction: I know. No, seriously. I know. Doesn’t make it hurt any less now. But thanks.)

– Now that you’ve adopted, you’ll probably get pregnant. (You don’t want my unedited reaction to this one. Seriously. But I can tell you that what I hear is “Now that you’ve stopped all that trying and worrying, you can have the baby you really want.” Don’t want me to have this reaction? Then don’t say it. Thanks.)

So. Two sections. Why We Don’t Want Your Advice, and What You Can Do Instead.

Why We Don’t Want Your Advice

We know you don’t mean it, but when you give unsolicited advice to someone dealing with infertility, it comes with the following implications:

1. You have thought of something she hasn’t thought of. This is seriously so very unlikely.

2. Her difficulties in getting pregnant are somehow linked to her actions. Not only is this probably not true, but it only adds to the guilt and shame she is already feeling. I’m sorry to tell you, but this is especially true of the “Just relax/ don’t worry/ stop tryin so hard” variety of advice. I’m begging you. Don’t say it. Ever.

What You Can Do Instead

Aside from avoiding unsolicited advice at all costs? Here are some general ideas:

1. Don’t ask about it. We know you’re curious, we know you’re thinking about us. But a) it’s kinda none of your business, and even worse b) you may have caught us in a rare moment when we were not thinking about it.

2. Understand why we might not come to your baby shower. I promise you that we feel worse about it than you do.

3. If we want to talk about it, let us. But just listen unless we specifically ask about something. (which we probably will not.)

I know it sounds like a lot to ask. It’s difficult. Not nearly as difficult for you as it is for us, but difficult. Just remember to support us as people first, and try to remind yourself that it’s not your problem to fix.

I is for Infertility


I know. Just the title makes you uncomfortable. I get it. It makes me kinda uncomfortable too.

And I don’t even have a really clear vision for this blog entry. But I know it’s important to discuss it.

Actually, that’s the vision, I think. The fact that we need to discuss it.

I have a friend who refers to infertility as The Forgotten Pain. People struggle with infertility. And then they get pregnant. (More often than not.) And then they kinda sorta forget what it felt like to live with the pain.

Or they adopt. And they forget.

I would prefer to forget. I really REALLY would like to forget. But there are a few reasons why it lingers with me.

First, I wrote a book about it. (Wanna read it? Think happy thoughts for me. I’ll start trying to find an agent soon.) So it’s tough to close the door on that chapter of my life. Well, ten chapters really. I continue to revisit and revise our first year of trying to get pregnant. And with each new draft it gets a little easier. And I know it will help a lot of women. But it makes it impossible to forget.

Second, I was “diagnosed” with unexplained infertility. Awesome. Helpful.

In layman’s terms (because I know that was some serious medical jargon) the doctors (several doctors) told me “you’ve never gotten pregnant, and we have no idea why,” So technically…. it could still happen. We’re not actively “trying” any more (temping, charts, tests, etc.) But it’s possible. Although that becomes less likely with each birthday.

Third, our daughter is at an age where she is asking about siblings. Tonight at dinner she actually asked for a sister. She would be a fantastic big sister. But we don’t have the money to adopt another child. (We’re still working on the money for the first one.) And it’s bigger than that, too. Because please. If you are thinking of adopting, there are ways to come up with the money. But frankly, we don’t feel called to adopt another child right now. We just don’t. At least not yet.

I wish I had something helpful to say to anyone who may be visiting this blog for the first time. I wish I could tell you that you will get pregnant, or that you will be a Mom someday, or that it will all be OK. I wish I could tell you it eventually hurts less.

But I can tell you this. You do learn to cope.

There are a lot of us out there. And if we keep talking to each other, at least we don’t have to feel alone.

An Open Letter Concerning Mother’s Day

…From Those Who Wish We Were Celebrating With You

(Originally posted May 9, 2013 on blogspot.)

When I started writing more seriously six years ago, it was with a specific mission in mind: to tell the story of infertility. What it feels like. What it can do to you. How it affects you every single day. A few things have changed since then. First, I have expanded my topics to include parenthood, mental health issues, adoption, and whatever strikes me on a particular day. Second, I no long categorize myself as a person dealing with infertility. While I never got pregnant, I am a mother now. I am not actively trying to get pregnant, nor am I involved in the adoption process. My journey came to a happy end when our daughter came home.
But I hope the community of women who long to become mothers will still allow me to speak on their behalf. Not only do I remember vividly that longing, I still get pains in my heart when I see pictures of sonograms, or mothers holding newborns immediately after labor. Or when I see children who look exactly like their parents. This is my right to feel that loss, and I will defend that right. If you are interested in arguing with me, please find a different blog to read.

So I find myself now in what feels like an ideal position to be a spokesperson. I remember the pain. I still feel it occasionally. But I am- for the most part- healed from it. At the same time, I have joined that elusive Mommy Club. So I speak the language. I understand their needs too.

With that in mind, I address today the latter group. Those who will be celebrating Mother’s Day as Mothers this Sunday. We have some things we want you- and those celebrating you- to understand.

An Open Letter Concerning Mother’s Day, from Those Who Wish We Were Celebrating-
Mother’s Day is the hardest day of the year for us. It feels like the whole world is celebrating the one thing that is missing in our lives. The one thing we would do anything to have. And the one thing that is entirely out of control. Even so, we do not wish to take away from your celebration. We want you to be honored on Sunday. We want you to be recognized and pampered, and to feel loved. If we do or say anything in the days leading up to your big day that you find hurtful, please consider our acts with grace and patience. We are simply in a lot of pain, and dealing the best that we can.

There are a few things you can do to make the day a little less difficult for us. First, if we choose to stay home, please honor that. Many of us choose this day as a holiday to mourn the loss that we feel. But if we are out- at church, or at special events, or even just dinner or shopping- know that this took courage. We know that you want to support us. But there honestly isn’t a single thing you can say that makes this day hurt less. We understand that things like “Your time will come,” or “It’s in God’s timing,” or “Try to celebrate the other mothers in your life,” feel helpful. But the truth is, they only feel good to you. It is best for us- truly- if you do not bring up Mother’s Day to us at all. We know what day it is. We know that you are thinking of us. We do not need to talk about it. Not today.

One more thought. You do not necessarily know who we are. We may be the career woman who seems to have it all after “choosing” career over family. (…who would give up her career in a heartbeat if she could manage to get pregnant.) We may be the young couple who has secretly been trying to conceive for years. We may have experienced multiple pregnancy losses without sharing the information. We may be in the adoption process but for whatever reason a match has not come through. Please error on the side of caution. If you do not know where we are on our family journey, please do not mention it today.

We know this sounds like a lot. And we do not want you to feel like you’re walking on egg shells on your special day. We also know it sounds more dramatic than could possibly be necessary. We do not ask you to understand. We only ask you to trust. Please be gentle with us today. We are hurting.

Happy Mother’s Day. We hope to celebrate with you next year.


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