There will always be the tiniest twinge in my heart when someone tells me they are pregnant. Always.
I think though, that would be the case regardless of whether I had tried to conceive or not. Regardless of my own infertility.
I am at the point now where I am very grateful that people close to me choose to share their news with me. I think I’m at the point where I am almost normal. As normal as I could be lol.
I think the twinge would exist anyway because we always question, in some moments, whether a different path would have been better. Well, actually, I don’t question that anymore. I can see the paths I have followed to lead me here. I am grateful for them. I think I am beginning to fulfil my human potential.
I think the twinge is the emotional memory of loss. Whilst I am grateful I never carried to term, I do think of the child I miscarried. A few times each year really. I think how life could have been different for me. And, without being callous, I do believe my life is in a more suitable place for who I am.
Not being a birth mother enabled and empowered me to rebirth my life, albeit not by conscious choice. I like my transition. I like that I’ve travelled. I like that I’m learning and growing. I like that I meet wonderful people. I like that I’m steering this ship.
There is life after failing to become a mother to my own child. There is good life. It has taken a long long time to appreciate this, but I have definitely arrived here now.
I am grateful for life.