And So I Go



On Wednesday morning, I thought about giving up. It was one of those passing thoughts that creep into your consciousness when you least expect it. After my morning bustle consisting of hurried routines of flat irons and coffee, I had a second to relax on my drive in to work. It was a cold morning. I pulled out of my driveway onto a tree-lined street full of empty branches suspended into the sky producing the unceasing reminder that winter is still upon us. And as my car started to cut through the brisk morning air, the thought occurred to me… we could simply give this all up. All of this baby stuff — we could just cease to try.


The thought taunted me as I made my way to work because, truthfully, it sounded enticing. The idea of being granted reprieve from all of this — all of the vitamins, the diets, the charting, the unfulfilled hope, the longing, the disappointment, the discouragement — it sounded freeing. And it was freeing… until I recognized the consequence. Because while the vast majority of people have this inherent ability to effortlessly add to their family tree, we have to fight for the same results — no, we have to go to war for the same results.


And here we are… trudging through the muck and the mire. Day-in, day-out. And it’s on days like these that I only see the battle ahead. I see the impending nights of tears and this chronic disheartened disposition. And I feel the exhaustion — it clings to my tired soul. But then there’s this quiet determination lingering in the background, inching me ever-forward. And so I go. I go with calloused hope and an apprehensive heart, but I go.


I go because the prize at the end is worth being fought for. I go because I know that somehow giving up would mean giving up on you. I go because there’s this deep-seated belief within me, and it reassures me that this fight is not being done in vain. And I think about this fight often. I think about “future me” in a nursery, frazzled by the lack of sleep and tripping over plastic toys, and I know that “future me” will look back at this fight with a smile because there you will be in my arms. And, truthfully, that is all that “present me” needs in order to pull through this — the very thought of you.

And so I go…



3 thoughts on “And So I Go

  1. Brittany, God is with you; remember – His time, His reasons. I wish I could take away every single ounce of pain you are feeling and while writing these words, I could not hold back the tears. I love you so much and will never stop praying…Mom

  2. Brittany, we don’t know eachother but we have this in common. Your words were so beautifully written and this made me cry as I look back at my very same struggles. I have had 2 miscarriages. The first pregnancy was such a huge surprise as it came shortly after my wedding last March. We felt so blessed and couldn’t believe that it was our time already! We spoke names we liked, talked about what gender we would prefer (me a girl, my husband a boy) just pure excitement! Around my 8 week first ultrasound I couldn’t wait to see my little blob of a baby! By the end of that appointment we learned that our baby was measuring small and there is a chance I will miscarry. Weeks later, that is exactly what happened. Months later we tried again and finally a test reveled “pregnant” once again! We were much more catious this time around and imeditaly had blood work done to make sure my levels were increasing. Before I even received those results, I began bleeding and cramping one night.
    I broke down in my husbands arms as I knew what exactly was happening. I just knew that this was another miscarriage. My heart broke and I thought how I couldn’t go through this again however I could not find it in me to stop trying. Thank you God for giving me the strength to keep trying and to press on. Thank you lord for giving me peace through those difficult times. Thank you lord for all the prayers and support I needed to survive this! Today, I am 13 weeks pregnant, a huge milestone for my husband and I. I’m into my 2nd trimester and can breathe a sense of relief that my risk for miscarriage has gone down.
    Brittany, you are in my prayers and I am so sorry to hear of your struggles. My heart truly breaks for you. Finding and knowing of others going through the same thing is also what helped me get through. Just to feel, not alone. If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you and would love to meet you!

    1. Oh, Katie. My heart literally ached for you as I read your comment. I’m so sorry to hear of your losses. I can’t even fathom the pain you must have gone through.

      But, wow! What a wonderful joy it is to hear that you’re pregnant again. Praise God! Please, please, please keep me updated on how things progress. You will be in my prayers!!

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