What's It Like?

What's it like

to try to create a family, and be able to do it privately?
Without the help of nurses,
doctors,
and pharmacies?

What's it like 

to try to conceive your kid for free?
And to try and conceive your kid with your husband in the same room?
And not have to worry about if you can afford to make your family or not?
Is that nice?

What's it like 

to want a family and then just, like, get one?

And not have to worry about charting
and meds
and shots
and cycle days
and waiting
and what if...?

What's it like 

to know what the answer to 

"Do you have kids?" is?

And what's it like

to not feel your face flush with embarrassment and sadness
when someone asks you when you are going to start your family?

What's it like 

to deliver your child,
knowing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel?
That all of the pain
and work
and discomfort will soon be relieved by the sights and sounds of your
newborn child?

What's it like

to deliver your child
and hear a cry
a gasp
a scream of life?
Instead of utter silence.
Instead of nothing.
Instead of "I'm sorry."

What's it like 

to deliver your child and feel complete and utter happiness?
Instead of complete and utter sorrow?

What's it like to hold your daughter for the first time
and feel joy?
Instead of sadness
and guilt and regret.

And what is it like

to know that the first time you meet your child will not also be your last?

What's it like 

to leave the hospital with your child in a carseat?
Instead of in a box?

What's it like 

to spend your evenings with your child?
Instead of wondering what it's like wherever she is?
And if she is too cold out in that field?
And if she has forgotten what you look like?
Or what your voice sounds like?

What is it like

to know what your child sounds like?
And smells like?
And looks like?

What is it like 

to hear your child?
To know her personality?
And that she has a nose like her mama
and eyes like her dad?

What is it like 

to never have to think about your dead child?
And wonder what she would be like at this age
and compare every baby you see
to her?

What is it like

to never wonder why God didn't keep your daughter alive?

What is it like

when you've never prayed to have 

just a living, breathing baby?

Someday?

What is it like?