I want to take a moment to acknowledge something that has never been openly addressed between us—your journey with fertility. It’s been a sensitive topic within our family, yet I know that you and your partner spent years trying to conceive before choosing to adopt two wonderful children.
I can only imagine the emotional turmoil and difficult decisions you faced: whether to continue trying, pour your savings into fertility treatments, or embrace adoption. You must have navigated through moments of heartache while standing united with your husband. Throughout this, you exhibited such strength, even when you were likely hurting inside.
I genuinely feel sorry that I have been able to conceive while you have faced this challenge. I regret ever voicing my frustrations during my own attempts to get pregnant. Those months I complained about were nothing compared to your long battle. It must have been so difficult for you to hear me, and I wouldn’t blame you if you felt resentment. Yet, you chose to support me, offering kindness and understanding.
I hadn’t realized how hard it would be for you to witness my pregnancy until it was happening. Initially, I felt upset by your seeming disinterest when you missed my baby shower. I remember feeling sad that you didn’t want to touch my belly or ask about how I was feeling. Looking back, I see now how self-absorbed I was.
But what does it really mean to have children? While you may not have given birth, your knowledge and experience in motherhood far surpass mine. You’ve raised your two kids for over a decade, nurturing them into bright, responsible young individuals. I may have carried a baby for nine months, but I have learned so much from watching you and the incredible way you parent.
When my son finally arrived, I worried how the tension might affect your connection with him. However, the moment he was born, it felt as if a cloud had lifted. The sadness you were experiencing faded, and you welcomed him with an outpouring of love. I’m so thankful for that.
As I prepare for my second pregnancy, I realize the mistakes I made the first time. I was inconsiderate, focusing on my happiness while you were likely feeling heartache. I promise to be more mindful this time around and won’t inundate you with messages about my pregnancy unless you ask. You have endured enough.
Ultimately, I won’t send you this letter. You’ve faced enough challenges, and I don’t want to bring up painful memories. I’ll keep you updated on the essentials—like the due date and the baby’s gender—and keep the rest of my pregnancy experience to myself, unless you’re interested.
Soon, this new baby will join us, and I look forward to introducing you. I want them to receive the same love you so generously give to my son. You are an incredible aunt and sister. While I regret that you can’t conceive, you are a remarkable mother, and I have learned so much from you. You were my lifeline when postpartum struggles hit me hard, guiding me through a tough time.
As we both continue our journeys as mothers, our bond has strengthened immensely. There’s no one else I would prefer to share this experience with than you, dear sister.