By sharing our stories we can impact the world is so many ways. We can releasd ourselves of those inner thoughts and give them to the world to hold, so we don’t have to anymore. We can connect with others who get it, and who have shared similar experiences - making us all feel less alone. It can be read by someone too scared to share, but now feeling heard. It can educate and inform those around us to understand the way that we have gone through. It can cause ripple effects by empowering others to share their stories, or do so, vicariously through yours.
I was a mother losing her son yet I didn’t look like it because he wasn’t in my body. As much as I wished it was me going through it rather than my wife, I was in awe of her strength at delivering our boy into the world. But we had to go through the usual rigmarole of being asked if I was Holly’s ‘friend’ or ‘sister’ accompanying her to the appointments. It gets so draining always being mis-labelled in these circumstances. How hard is it too have a quick glance at the notes before walking into a room?
In an instant I lose them both
Our sweet, wild boy is gone,
And so is the life in her eyes
Darkness moves in and she turns to gray, shaking stone
I fall to my knees and I hold her hand
We dreamed and we talked and we wondered out loud who you would be, but I knew in my heart that if you were anything like your mom, you would be an amazing human being.
Growing up I was always sure of two things from a young age. One that I was gay, and two that I wanted to be a mum more than anything.
My eyes were opened to the struggle that a fertility cycle could involve. I no longer naïvely thought it would only take one attempt to bring home a baby. And I now knew the devastating truth that a healthy pregnancy did not always end with a baby to keep.