I don’t know if it will ever go away. That sting the question brings.
When’s the next one?
Doesn’t she want a sister?
She does. She wants someone to love and to play with but I can’t give her that.
The questions make my stomach turn and that night I cry into my husband’s t-shirt until I’m too numb to cry anymore.
I push it down, I swallow the despair, and I move on.
Until the next question comes along.
Doesn’t he want kids?
Doesn’t he want one of his own?
He does. He wants kids to love and to spoil but I gave him our daughter and that’s enough for him.
I have so much guilt, so much anger and jealousy and pain. Every time I think I’m over it, I see a mother with her newborn or a photo of my friends with their kids and my heart breaks all over again.
I never realized how painful a question can be until I experienced it myself.
Whether it’s PCOS, infertility, cancer, or any other reason, our hurt is the same.
Please stop asking.
Stage 3 IBC Survivor
For my 24th birthday, I got cancer.