I can’t unsee her face!
Her tears!
Her despair!
Her disappointment!
When I started the (formally) Affectionately Nae Instagram page, I was so excited to find a community of women who could relate to my struggles with infertility! I discovered many women who were also sharing their stories with the purpose of getting women to feel seen, heard, and valued despite their physical setbacks with pregnancy. It was like being part of a newly discovered play that I had actually had a role in. Even if I didn’t like the part that I was given to play, at least I wasn’t the only one that had to play it.
Before I knew it, my timeline was filled with stories of infertility. There was one girl in particular that I started following. She would write long posts detailing her IVF process for that month and keep us up to date so that we could follow along and wish all the baby dust her heart could handle. Not shortly after, would she make another long post detailing the failure of that IVF cycle. These posts usually were accompanied by a picture or video of her red face, wet with the tears that could no longer hold in the corners of her eyes.
Her face said it all before I even read the caption. The hopes and prayers and money they had spent that cycle came back without any promise attached to it.
It was hard to watch.
It was hard to watch time, after time, after time, after time.
Her face was etched across my mind along with all the other failed pregnancy stories and negative pregnancy tests that flew across my screen as I harshly scrolled through my timeline. It was all too depressing so I decided it was time to take a mental break. I no longer had enough mental space to process my own journey to pregnancy, my own tears, despair, and disappointment.
Her face clouded my ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt like I couldn’t reach women like her because she knew a hurt and a pain that I hadn’t known for myself. I felt like an imposter in this space trying to tell someone like her to “hold on, it gets better” when she was deeper in the trenches than me.
Blogging also took a back seat because the more I shared the more naked I felt. That same special play that I had a role in left me standing there in front of a million (ok, a hundred) strangers knowing the depths of my intimate physical inadequacies. There were no clothes or covering in sight or a way to make people unsee my nakedness, even if I went silent.
In my silence though, I was able to hear God more clearly. I was able to develop a better strategy and deeper connection to the role God had allowed me to play. He showed me that He was stretching me and required more from me than I required of myself. I was perfectly okay with taking a backseat and allowing the other AFG’s to dominate this space because that meant, I could exit stage left and find a nice warm Snuggie to chill in, sip some tea, and pretend nothing happened as I watched from backstage.
However exciting that may sound, stretching isn’t supposed to be comfortable. It requires that discomfort to make progress and to overall make us better in the roles we play in life.
In retrospect, I’m glad that instagrammer shared her story in the unique way that she chose because that was healing for her and a teaching moment for me to not allow the stories of others to become my own through negative thinking and doubt.
It also inspired me to bring fun, encouraging and lighthearted energy to such a deeply personal and emotional journey.
The Anticipating Fertile Girl is my stretch role and I hope that I am able to do it justice.
Affectionately, Nae ❣️
If you’re looking for some positivity 🌸 and encouragement ☺️ to add to your timeline, follow The AFG on Instagram and Facebook!