I get by with a little help from my friends

Infertility sucks. It does. But what doesn't suck is how much love and support we have received from family and friends. Seriously, I don't know what we would do without them. Over the years, I have been shown some incredible acts of kindness. One friend sent me flowers at work when I was struggling with a particularly difficult cycle. The same friend sent me $300 for Christmas to help with our infertility medical bills...I came to learn that she told her husband that what she wanted for Christmas was to give US some financial help with our infertility stuff. Wow, right? {Thank you, again, dear friend, you are amazing.}

Late night calls, emails, letters, cards, shoulders to cry on, little trinkets to give us hope, you name it, I'm thankful for it. It has all meant the world to me. One night just about two weeks ago, I was talking to a friend on gchat. It was right after I had gotten my period so we knew that our April cycle was a bust. I was angry, frustrated, sad and felt truly hopeless and helpless. My grandpa had just passed away three weeks before and I was feeling down-right DOWN. I typed to my friend, 'Maybe there isn't a baby out there for us, maybe it's not meant to be, maybe there really isn't a baby up in Heaven waiting to call us Mom and Dad. Why can't God send me a little note, "You will have a baby, Love, God."' My friend was very supportive, as always, reminding me that I can't think like that, we have to believe there is a baby out there for us, somewhere.

So today, I went to get the mail. There amongst the usual bills and junk was a shimmery gold envelope, addressed to me in lovely script, with no return address. Intrigued, I opened it. This is what I found:

I am blessed with amazing people in my life.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, but in our case, it takes a village to MAKE a child, to get through the process and summon the strength and hope to continue on with our journey. Thank you, to each one of you, from the bottom of my heart, for believing there is a baby out there for us, somewhere.