Mike and I have been trying to conceive a baby for about eight months now. We know in the grand scheme of fertility, we still fall on the lucky side. But this journey we've been on is so strange in that it keeps us focused on one thing and that's getting pregnant. I don't let myself think about what's beyond that—having a baby, raising a child, being a parent—and a slice of that is to protect myself in case the journey gets tougher. But a greater part is because all of those things feel like complete dreams. I'm foolishly idealistic about a child because I am so desperate for one, and, yes, I know the first time my kid screams no at me, I'm going to be just floored because, um, kid, I GAVE UP CAFFEINE FOR YOU BEFORE YOU WERE CONCEIVED. That is love, so you watch those nos, got it? But, again, there's this idealistic way of thinking that sort of fuzzes up the reality, and the reality is you just never know what life is going to hand you. And you can only hope you'll be surrounded by love and support if what you're given is more than what you were prepared for.
Today I read a post by Emily at Not That You Asked, about friends of hers who are facing something suffocatingly difficult and yet they are managing to push forward, with smiles even.
They are facing what no parent should have to, and they need help.
Please read about their situation and then help, if you can. With a donation or just a positive thought.