Dear Infertile Woman,

I see you today, your head held low in an attempt to disguise the pain in your eyes.

I see your empty hands and their longing to be filled.

I see you sitting, willing tears to not spill over as mothers are openly celebrated.

I see you wishing that you had the superpower of invisibility as you are passed over when the Mother’s Day flowers are handed out.

I see you escaping from church in order to avoid all of the little children proudly handing their mommy something they made during Sunday school.

I see you gulping in the fresh air, not weighed down by the acute emptiness of being in an environment so focused on the deepest longing of your heart.

I see you at the restaurant trying valiantly to celebrate the other women in your life, but instead finding yourself distracted by all of the happy families alongside you as you desperately wish to be living that life.

I see you today as you seek out the confines of your home, unable to absorb any further reminders of all that you wish for.

I recognize all of those expressions well.

Know that even though you may feel completely alone, there are others who understand.

Know that you are seen.

Know that you are remembered.

Know that someone is honoring you, your journey and your desire to have little hands clasping yours.

Know that you are prayed for.

Know that you are loved.