The Epilogue to My Story

A few weeks ago I wrote a post releasing my fertility journey and all of the negativity surrounding it. I no longer wanted to talk about what I had been through. I didn’t want to hear the words ‘miscarriage’ or ‘secondary infertility’ anymore. I wanted to remove myself from the online support groups, delete the fertility advocates I was following on Instagram and wash my hands of the infertility community. I was done. I was moving on and leaving past in the past. I was heading into 2018 with a clean slate; one that was focused on new beginnings. But of course, as always, the Universe has different plans for me.

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I was on a flight to Toronto a few weeks ago and sat beside a man who told me an interesting story that has changed my perspective. A couple in his church had been silently struggling with infertility and finally told the congregation one Sunday. The sympathy and support they received was incredible. The group came together to lay their hands up the couple in prayer which I imagine was this big, beautiful web of energy pouring into the two people in the centre. They conceived naturally a few weeks later. What a miracle that came from sharing their story and allowing the positive thoughts and energy to flow directly into them! That powerful story really touched me.

This led me to thinking about the work of my own hands. Through my fingers clicking on a keyboard I’ve been able to bring comfort, solidarity and advice to many others. Why would I walk away from that now when there’s so many who wish to have the peace I have? Why would I deny them the work I have done when I know I can help?

More recently, I was talking to a fellow infertility advocate friend who has also made peace with her story and she confided that she was going all in to help others. She pointed out that it was my duty to others to help them through their journey, to help make their grief more manageable and possibly even guide them towards their own piece of peace.

A few months ago, I wanted to be rid of the story. Now I want to help even more. My story has changed and it’s not clouded with negativity and grief anymore. I now understand that to help others I don’t need that story to be of service. I can still shine my light and be a beacon of positivity and hope unattached to my old circumstances.

My fertility story isn’t my identity anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t identify with others still struggling.

It’s my job to continue to share this new story: the one that is overflowing with abundant gratitude and love after a few years of despair. It’s now a story of healing and growth; one that may be able to inspire others to escape their prison of grief, pain and resentment and find a new way of being in the fertility world. It’s an absolute honour to have people reach out to me daily for advice or help. It’s a blessing to know that my cousin now has some tools to help her best friend through her miscarriage. I’m so grateful people trust me enough to share their struggles with me. I’m thankful I can offer sympathy, support and advice, if asked for.

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I realized when I let go of the outcomes I was death gripping (ie. having another baby in a certain time frame or having (blank) number of kids by (blank) age) I also released the negativity that hovered around it. I did the work of healing and then I did the work of truly releasing. Now I can talk of my experiences with grace and gratitude.

As motivational speaker Ed Mylett says, “Things happen for you, not to you.” Once we commit to healing and moving on, only then can we look back and see that what was seemingly terrible and the end of the world was actually a blessing in disguise or a much needed life lesson.

I’m humbled to be of service to others whether it’s women struggling to conceive, grieving a loss or frustrated over their circumstances. I welcome the messages and texts and emails. My epilogue is now open-ended and I look forward to spreading awareness, joy and gratitude. It’s time to take the focus away from the mess and move on to the message.

United we rise,

K

 

 

 

 

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