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Warrior of the Week | Nicole and Shawn

A decade works out to 273 314 880 minutes. Including leap year extra days. That’s tons of minutes. Who would have ever known that of my 33 years on this bewildering and wonderful planet,  218 652 480 of my minutes would be spent on a journey (thus far) trying to conceive. Yes, that’s 8 years in non confusing non mathematical garb. Why the myriad of numbers? The reality is that every day, of every month on this journey, there is another confusing, mind boggling element to face.

I’m no math boffin. But after all this time I know my body better than most. I could answer All of the Google questions. I don’t even need to Google anymore. I know. After all these years, I know Aunt Flow is coming. I know every single symptom my body is telling me, and what causes it. I know when I ovulate and when I don’t. (yes! I sometimes don’t! Because life is interesting for me that way).

I also know the broad spectrum of emotion that multiple years of no conception causes. I understand the financial depletion a household may feel. I’m aware of the trauma that a pregnancy announcement on social media ignites, deep down. In fact, one day when I am blessed with my miracle babies, I’ve sworn to never make that social media announcement. I know the rips in the heart that those posts invoke.

The knowledge that science is at our aide- well it’s only a small consolation when I see the tears and the aftermath of friends who have had multiple IVF’s and still do not hold their babies. I’m far too familiar with the coffee tables of waiting rooms, the silence as we wait our turn to be seen next, to be told there is yet again some sort of issue. We leave feeling like we aren’t good enough, like we aren’t the chosen ones who get to be parents.

Thankfully, I’m also extremely fortunate to know the love and intimacy of a support group. I’m blessed beyond measure to be involved in the lives of women who understand what I’ve gone through. Who are compelled, beyond all logic and reason, to never give up.

I’m stunned and awed by the magic these circles weave. We come together and within our conversations is knit a bond and a sense of hope that nothing can counter.

My husband, the quiet and steady support, knows our pain and is incredibly strong. I don’t know where I would be without him.

It’s been a hellishly long journey, but I know around the corner my miracle waits. What are we without Hope? 

Despite all the medical bills, operations, blood tests (blood banks partially own me by now) pregnancy tests, nights of internal terror that this journey will never end- I know it will. By now I’m comprised of empathy, coffee and hope- and I will never ever let fear be bigger than my Faith.

Nicole Warrior of the Week

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