Dear April of Six Years Ago

Six years ago today we started our first round of more aggressive infertility treatments and about 2 months after that I had my first miscarriage. So I have been thinking a lot about what I would say to myself looking back...

Dear April of Six Years Ago,
First, take a bath tonight, read a book, and sleep in tomorrow. Soon that won't be an option. I know that sounds like a lame platitude for what you are going through, but trust me. Do it. Sleep is precious.

This is going to be a hard road. Yes, I know, it already has been, but it is going to get harder and then it is going to get miraculous and you won't even know how to process it all in your head...your heart...well, hearts get bigger around loss and through life.

I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you that in the next six years your heart will break. It will break into so many piece you won't even know how to get out of bed sometimes. It's ok. Stay there a few days, it won't hurt anything. It will break over and over...at least six major times. You will get some terrible phone calls, cry a million tears, and wonder how you will ever get to be a mommy (and later, if you will get to be a mommy again).

There will also be some fun highlights and memories that have become fun memories, too. Remember that trip to Mexico? Think bigger...think a couple trips to Europe. Have a really fun time. In about 2 years, you won't be going much of anywhere...happily!

Keep having faith. This will be the hardest part. You will want to give up on faith. Big time. You will have a huge fight with God. You will pound your fists and scream. He won't let go. Your faith will grow. You will, eventually, be thankful for that season. Really.

You will learn that miracles still happen. Three of them so far. Yes. You will have three boys and they will come as miracles each and every time. You will LOVE being a boy mom...even when you are so tired you can't see straight at night.

You will learn that biology can have NOTHING to do with making a family. You will learn that you can love a child born of another woman as your very own...because he is your very own. This little boy will teach you lessons in love, patience, trains, flexibility, and neurological disorders (don't worry, it isn't as scary as it sounds). You will learn that adoption was never a plan B, it was just the plan. You will be just as happy about being a mom as you thought you would be...even when you sigh with relief when that child gets on the bus each day!

You will learn that your body hasn't actually failed you. Yes, you will think it has many times (see broken heart above), but you can have babies. You have two...one is trying to climb me right now. The other is still a tiny nugget (see why I recommend you sleep now above). All of your wondering about what your babies would look like? Well, you and Mark make beautiful babies...and they are a super cute combination of the two of you. God did good here.

Through it all you will have a rock. Mark will be there every step of the way. He will dry your tears, find furniture for you to sledgehammer (serious), he will be a voice of reason (so try to be nice). He will sing the sweetest songs to your boys, he will teach them "guy stuff", and one night in November in about 6 years he will push the performance capabilities of your minivan (yes, you have one) to get you to the hospital just in time to give birth. Go make him a big kiss. I will do that next, too.

You will make some of your best friends on this journey you are about to take. Friends that would have never found you otherwise. These girls will help you stay sane, make you laugh, and dry your tears. Go visit them!

Girl, this road is about to get crazy, but don't forget that life is beautiful. No, it won't look perfect from your direction. Heck, it doesn't look perfect from mine! But it does look beautiful. The crazy, messy kind of beautiful that will change you from you to me. It will be scary, but it will be worth it. Whatever happens, just don't give up, it will all be worth it someday.

Love,
Me

P.S. - Mom is right...you are totally brave!