Today I am thankful for my children who were, all four of them, conceived without difficulty. Who were carried to term, with no problems beyond those of typical pregnancy discomfort. Who were born healthy and strong in deliveries that were relatively complication free. I am thankful for the sleepless nights I spent in my home feeding them, rocking them, walking with them until I could barely stand. I am thankful for the anger they have caused me and the tears I have shed on their behalf.
This week some friends of mine delivered twins at 25 weeks after years of trying to conceive and several rounds of IVF. Those babies are struggling just to to take a breath. We are all praying just for their hearts to keap beating. Each day we get an update, because for their parents each day is simply another battle that wasn't lost.
I have friends who have recently lost babies and those who have never been able to conceive them. I have cried for them. My heart breaks for them, but I don't know what it's like to be them. I couldn't possibly.
But today I know that each day that I walk on this side of that darkness is a blessing. A fragile blessing that I have not earned. And for the days that I have forgotten this, and the days, too soon, that I will forget again - I am truly sorry.