{Still Standing} Tears in the City

Last February, my first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 10 weeks.  Since then, I've been on this wild ride of finding the grace & courage to heal & try again, most of which has been documented in my monthly Still Standing posts.  Still Standing Magazine, an online magazine dedicated to embracing life after loss & infertility, hosts The Journey on the first Tuesday of each month & urges woman like me to share where they are in their journey toward motherhood.  I talked about how I felt each month after my miscarriage with 11 Months & 12 Months never being written or published because sometimes my heart just can't handle it.  Now that my miscarriage was over a year ago, I plan to keep up my monthly Still Standing posts, just with more of a free form style.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, my husband & I tumbled out of a yellow cab onto the streets of Manhattan for our first infertility appointment.  The familiar city enveloped us quickly with its honking horns, street food smells & rush, rush, rush of people.  We walked a block or two looking for the doctor's office when I spotted them.  Everything else fell away, all I could see or hear was them.

The woman was sobbing & leaning against a wall.  The man was standing near her, whispering to her & holding her hand.  We were standing outside a hospital, she could have been crying for any number of reasons.  Perhaps a loved one received a bleak diagnosis or a loved one passed away.  But no, my heart heard & understood the sad, helpless cries of someone just like me.  Someone who wants to be a mom so badly, yet just seems to face month after month of disappointment & desperation.  My heart went out to her.

The moment came & went in mere seconds as my husband pulled me along to the doctor's office which he had finally located across the street.  Through the glass doors, up the stainless steel elevator & into the hushed world of infertility.  The waiting room was filled with woman of all shapes, sizes & colors.  Ordinary women you could easily pass on the street & never know their struggles to have a child.  Just like me.  Infertility is an invisible, yet very powerful, monster.  

Our first infertility appointment was long & thorough.  I suppose we are counted among the lucky ones.  Large ovarian cysts were found & surgery was scheduled for the cyst removal.  Costly, draining infertility treatments have been avoided.  After the surgery & proper recovery time, we were given the good, happy news that we should be able to conceive naturally.  Hope, albeit a very cautious hope, has come back into our lives; she is welcomed with open arms & hearts.

As we left that first appointment with hope gingerly blossoming in our battered hearts, I saw the crying woman & the quiet man sitting in the waiting room.  They were both silent, her eyes red & puffy, his eyes blank & distant.  I was right, my heart had recognized her cries.  

Now that we are thisclose to our dream of a rainbow baby, I think of the couple often.  I wonder if they still burst into tears on city streets or if they have their happy ending.  I pray & wish for the latter.  Wherever they may be in their journey, may comfort & hope be theirs.