
I'm sorry that you ever had to feel helpless because you can't "fix" me.

I'm sorry that you have spent many nights awake worried about our future - not knowing if we will ever be able to grow our family, and that your dreams of becoming a father might eventually have to be let go. I'm sorry that you have had to be my constant cheerleader, reminding me that I am strong and can do this. I'm sorry that you have had to act "overly excited" when we get pregnancy announcements from friends to compensate for my obvious sadness and grief. I'm sorry that you have had to protect me from getting hurt emotionally, at the expense of your own hurt feelings. I'm sorry that you have had to be the strong one for so long. I'm sorry that you have had to grieve in silence. I'm sorry you have had to feel any shame about "our" infertility and are put in uncomfortable situations when the "baby" topic comes up.

I'm sorry you have had to be the one to call the doctor to get the pregnancy test results every, damn, time, because I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm sorry that you have had to stick me with needles and cause me physical pain over and over again, so much that it makes me cry and leaves my body covered in bruises and welts. I am sorry if you ever feel alone or forgotten. I'm sorry, that when you are grieving, most of your energy is spent soothing my soul, and not your own. I'm sorry that you aren't getting cards in the mail, or thoughtful texts from friends checking in on you. I'm sorry that all the attention is on me when it comes to the support we get. I'm sorry for not being able to give you a baby. You never let me feel like any of this is my fault or feel sorry for my broken body. Yet, somehow, you never let me have any guilt about this.

There is so much I want the world to know about you.Įvery time I see you smile at the baby at the next table over, or disappear from the party to go play with our friends kids in their room, I am reminded of how I have deprived you from what you want the most.
