No, Child, I’m not referring to friendships I’ve made in the theater. (Although I would LOVE to be in another musical someday…but that’s another conversation for another time.) I want to tell you about the little community of sisters who surround me, envelope me in their love, bare their own needs, and share burdens. These girls do not know each other. They come from many different stages of my life. And just recently I realized what a precious gift I had been given by their presence in my life.

These are my infertility sisters. Three other girls between 28-30 years old, married for 6 or more years, loving Jesus, loving their husbands, and struggling with the painful reality of conception struggles. They are wishing for their own little ones, as I am for you. They dream of the kind of mothers they will be to their newborn, what that son or daughter will one day become. Their hearts ache when they see yet another pregnancy announcement by a good friend or a Facebook acquaintance. They attempt to guard themselves against those thoughtless comments and unknowing darts launched toward their wounds by inquiring minds. They have other friends and family members who love them and know of this struggle. They may even have a few people who have been there. There are plenty of success stories they could recount.

But WE are in this TOGETHER. Right here. Right now. These girls know exactly what I’m dealing with this month, because so are they. We each have words of advice – take this test, see this doctor, request this procedure. And we trust each other. There are emails, letters, texts, and Facebook notes exchanged on a weekly – or daily – basis. This support is constant. We know we’re not being burdensome or annoying. We aren’t afraid of the reaction of the recipient and we know we’ll take their response at face value, because we trust each other.

I thank God for the grace he has poured into my life by pulling these girls out of the framework of my experiences for this time and place. 

And I thank my dear girlfriends for clinging close to my heart. What a gift you are.

And Child, I tell you this, to lighten your burden a bit. I’m sure it’ll be hard for you know what pain your mom went through. If you have half the empathy of me, it’ll hurt your heart too. But know that I was not alone as I waited for you. I was well cared for. I hope you can meet these stage sisters of mine someday, and play with their kids. That’s my dream, and I know it is theirs as well.

God is Grace,

Mama