Been Meaning to Write This Post Forever....

When I went home for Rosh Hashana back in September, I couldn’t help but think of how finally, this year, I was pregnant for the high holidays. For the past three years I sat in shul, always hoping that the next year I’d be holding an infant, or at least have the pregnant belly. Instead, I would flip through the prayer books, looking for Biblical names that I liked – or I’d read the stories of the Jewish matriarchs and ancestors. Last September (2005), I remember feeling quite strongly that every story in the Jewish liturgy is about infertility – Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Hannah all suffer.

Knowing that this affliction has been around since the beginning of Judaism did not make me feel better. What was particularly troubling, was knowing that I had done the same thing year after year. Thalia & Mony wrote about this also – how these yearly rituals which inherently mark the passage of time, are more difficult for us, the infertiles. And while I am so happy and elated to be where I am right now (28 weeks, 4 days), I still remember the ache and fear the pain associated with years of infertility.

In the Rosh Hashana service there’s a line translated that made me cry last year, and when I read it again this year, all the frustration and sadness came rushing back. Hannah’s husband says to her: Why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not worth more to you than ten sons?

To me, that was exactly what my problem was. My heart was sad. And I could never explain to D why I couldn’t be happy with just him.

I so wish for all of you still suffering trying to conceive, that next year your hearts aren’t sad.