No, no, you do not! And that’s okay. But, please, let me ask the following of you:
Please do not tell me you understand the heartache of loss, because you have a friend who lost a baby or lost their parent, or lost their sibling. Unless you have been there, you do not have the slightest clue. And those that have been through significant loss, know that no two losses are the same and they cannot be compared. What is the similar and what can be shared is the emotions associated with grief.
Do not tell me you understand the loss of my mom and my sister, because your mom died at the ripe old age of 90. Nope, it’s just not the same as having your mom die when she’s only 43 and you are only 14. You enjoyed 62 years of life with your mom. I enjoyed 14. 90 is not the same as 43 and 14 is not the same as 62!! Do not tell yourself it is. Do not pretend it is. And most importantly, do not tell me it is.
Do not tell me you understand the grief of miscarriage, unless you have had one.
Do not tell me you understand the roller-coaster ride that is recurrent pregnancy loss, unless you have had 3 or more consecutive miscarriages. You do not get it unless you have been there.
Do not tell me you understand fertility issues because your friend went through IVF to have children. Recurrent pregnancy loss is not the same as not being able to get pregnant. Although we may see the same types of doctors, they are most definitely not the same problem. Infertility and RPL have very different medical options and resulting physical experiences. The possible routes to children may be very different for each one of these terrible infertility issues. Do not pretend they are the same and most definitely don’t pretend you understand IVF or RPL if you have never had either.
Do not tell me you understand adoption. Do not tell me we should just adopt. Unless you have seriously looked into adoption, or have actually adopted a child, do not presume it is inexpensive or quick or an easy process or a simple decision. In fact it can be incredibly expensive, it can take years, and just making the decision to adopt is scary and overwhelming.
Do not tell me you understand the fear of being pregnant, unless you have had serious complications and lost your child. Our fears are not the same as “normal” pregnancy fears, like how to parent, how to raise a happy child, or if we will be good parents. We do not get to have these normal fears, because we are no longer fortunate enough to have a normal pregnancy. Our fears are literally a matter of life and death, every day of pregnancy feels like a game of Russian Roulette, milliseconds away from possible death, waiting to find out if our baby will live another day, or another week.
………..
Please tell me, you cannot imagine my pain.
Tell me that you know this must be difficult for us.
Tell me that if I ever need to talk, you will listen without judgement.
Tell me that if I ever need a shoulder to cry on, you will be here for me.
Tell me it’s okay to take time to make our next decision, and that’s okay.
Tell me that you love us and will support us no matter what our future holds.
………..
But, please, do not tell me that you understand because you don’t.
I asked my husband a question yesterday. A seemingly simple question, or so I thought. Of all of our travels, what was your favourite moment?
He looked at me puzzled for a few seconds. He then proceeded to list off a few different moments, one or two from each of our big trips and even a few from local day trips and long weekend escapes:
That time we spent an evening eating crab overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge; or when we were at the luxury hotel (our honeymoon splurge) in Ko Phi Phi as we watched the sunset over the ocean.
We cannot forget that time we passed an entire afternoon drinking way too much on a beautiful day in a pool in Panama; or when we were backpacking with Sadie near Upper Kananaskis Lake in Canada on a picture perfect day. 
Or, that time in Cambodia when we sat in our hotel courtyard during a torrential downpour eating a delicious and simple egg breakfast; or, even that time when we were on Wayna Picchu sitting together in a quiet spot with our feet hanging over the edge enjoying a sip of water as we watched the clouds swirl and dance through the valleys below us.
Each one he brought up, lead right into another one. I guess it wasn’t a simple question at all.
For me, my favourite moment was simple – an evening in Siem Reap, Cambodia. We had spent the day touring the temples of Angkor. The temples were phenomenal, but not my “moment”. My moment was that evening.
That evening, we decided to have a late dinner. So, we spent some downtime at the hotel after a very busy day. We nursed our sore feet back to life in the hotel pool as the sun set. Eventually, we walked a few short blocks into the main part of town. We strolled aimlessly through the streets. Mixing with the crowds. Enjoying the smells and the sounds.
Finally, we settled into a pub that we had been eying the night before for a beer and a bite to eat. We got a great seat outside, so we could people watch. The food was phenomenal. I have no idea what we talked about, but we sure enjoyed the ambiance – the bustling street; the tuk-tuk drivers calling at us to take a ride; the little black kitten who loved our feet; the locals selling their handicrafts but not in an overly obnoxious way; and the children begging for money. We sat there for hours. We relished in the cool evening temperature; marveled at the antics of the tourists; and, our hearts sank for the small children in need. We enjoyed the experience, and we let it slowly soak into us to forever become part of our beings.
Eventually, we decided it was time to move on to check out the night market. We loved the markets throughout Thailand and Cambodia, but this one was great and extra memorable because it wasn’t too busy. We were there during the slow season, so the tourist crowds were not too bad. We wondered for what felt like the perfect amount of time. I bought a cute skirt, a dress and a few bracelets. My husband bought another pair of knock-off sunglasses. Nothing of real significance, but we had a great time.
Much later that night on the way back to our hotel, we ran into a little girl. We had run into her the night before, when she begged us for money. She broke our heart. She was probably no more than 5 or 6, and by our Canadian standards she was out way past her bedtime. She spoke great English. She was adorable, and yet so sad. So, because of the previous day’s events, this evening we were more prepared and we brought pencil crayons from home just in case we ran into her again. So, when she was right there waiting for us, we didn’t give her money, but we talked with her. We asked her about school and what she liked to do for fun. She was a bit taken back by our questions, but she settled in and seemed to enjoy the conversation. We gave her the pencil crayons and told her to study hard at school. She ran away, back to her parents, with a smile that light up her entire face, our hearts and maybe even the entire street. We didn’t see her the following night and even though I know it is unlikely, I still like to believe she was at home colouring.
If there were one moment in my life that I could capture in a time capsule to be re-played and re-lived, this is it. I would repeat that entire evening, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
It’s funny how our favourite moments are not the time we spend viewing and experiencing world landmarks like Machu Picchu, the Panama Canal, Angkor Wat or the Emerald Buddha; but rather, the simple moments we spend together, enjoying each other’s company without distractions.
My Perfect Breakdown 