When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I used to have a recurring nightmare. I dreamed that I couldn't have children, that I was married and in love but was unable to get pregnant, and I would wake up in the middle of the night, sobbing uncontrollably. It didn't happen every night, not by any means, but I had that dream often enough that it left an impression. I remember feeling frustrated, powerless and utterly heartbroken.
Luckily, getting pregnant turned out to be fairly easy for me. Who knew I would turn out to be one of those über-fertile women who could get pregnant when they hang their underwear next to their husband's on the clothes line? It took us 2 months to conceive our daughter Émilie, and about 2 weeks for Maxime. We had some scary times with both pregnancies, but in the end we were blessed with 2 healthy babies.
For all that, I still think about those dreams I used to have, and when I do it hits me just how much we take this biological privilege, this gift we have been given, for granted. A friend of mine, someone I appreciate and respect and think the world of, has had the misfortune of having to deal with infertility, and despite all this, she still manages to put on a brave face and a smile while we, her fellow girlfriends and knitters, gab about our pregnancies, our birth experiences and our childrens' latest shenanigans.
April 24th-May 1st is National Infertility Awareness Week. As we play with our kids this week, or tuck them into bed, let's take a minute to empathize with the millions of couples out there struggling to achieve what we have been so blessed to receive.
We'll return to our regular knitting content tomorrow :)