Easier said than done

Kaity Holtman

I said I wouldn’t be that person, that pregnant person, that mom, who got on the nerves of people trying to get pregnant.

We spent three and a half years trying and praying and hoping to be parents.

Three and a half years trying to deal with heartbreak after heartbreak, trying not to become extremely jealous, jaded, defeated.

Every Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

Every Christmas, Easter, or other holiday that seems so much more fun with children.

Every time someone announced a pregnancy or a new birth.

Every time our hopes of being pregnant failed.

And each time, I would swear I would never be the person who constantly talked about being pregnant.

Don’t get me wrong, I was always so happy for those raising their children and aware that they deserved their little blessings. I would never have asked for them not to have their children. I would never wish the trying infertility journey on anyone.

But I’ve done it. Pregnancy and preparing for parenthood have 100 percent consumed me.

I don’t necessarily feel bad about it. Really, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

Even when I write my columns now, obviously almost all that I can focus on is pregnancy.

I always told myself that I wouldn’t talk about only pregnancy. That I would still talk about work and current events, things other than being a parent. But that is just how it works. And now I get it — that’s how it should be.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew my priorities would change. I’m not blind to how it all works, I just swore I wouldn’t let it be the only thing. But it is right now.

In fact, even with my own husband, I’ve had to remind myself to cherish every moment that it’s just the two of us. It’s been the two of us for almost 10 years now, and it’s hard to imagine anything different.

I know this is everything we’ve wanted and worked toward, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be a little bittersweet and that I won’t miss our time as just two. It’s been pretty amazing, after all.

As we’ve sat waited through our last couple weeks of pregnancy, I have had to stop a couple times and bring myself back to reality.

We waited for three and a half years — about 185 weeks — to see the plus sign on the pregnancy test. And here I have set for the last four weeks acting like it’s the end of the world.

We waited that long for a sign of hope and now we can’t make it through a fraction of that time for the little one to actually arrive without going stir crazy.

Sheesh, if that doesn’t put it all into perspective for me, I don’t know what would.

When I wrote about our infertility journey back in November, I had a number of people, many I knew, some I didn’t, come to me to talk about their struggles with infertility.

I now have a list of people trying to start their family who have asked for our prayers. The list is much longer than I wish it was. But it has been the most rewarding experience to move one couple at a time from that infertility prayer list to our usual prayer list.

I do a big happy dance every time I put a check mark by their names. It’s a slow process, but I have no doubt that each couple sees how God’s plan is bigger than their own as they start their pregnancies.

I feel like I should apologize to the me from 10 months ago for going back on my word. But I also feel like the me from 10 months ago should apologize to current me for not being more understanding.

There is something so interesting – and even cliché – about what happens to us with time and experience. It’s beautiful and amazing. I wonder what I, 10 months from now, will want to say to current me, and vice versa.