Dear Sister, Neighbor, Mother, Friend,

You know me. You’ve seen me, I’m one of you, but inside I have a deep, dark secret. My husband and I are going through infertility—something that no one who hasn’t gone through can understand. I wake up in the morning, go to work, do my shopping, like all of you, but underneath the exterior is my broken heart—a heart bleeding for the opportunity to be a mother, a soul yearning for the chance to nourish and nurture. I meet you every day and look like everyone else, but deep inside I’m crying. Hot salty tears course my heart. I hold them inside so you won’t know my secret.

In public I always scan the crowd to see if people see through my facade of normalcy. I feel so scared. So afraid. So isolated. When I’m with friends and they talk about sleepless nights, tuition stresses, Erev Yom Tov, I want to scream and yell; I want to tell all of them that I also have sleepless nights, just not from my baby. Late at night, I shed tears for what the doctor will tell me next. I don’t have tuition stresses, but my bills for doctors’ visits, medication and treatments far surpass your children’s tuition. Erev Y”T I’m not busy running around shopping; instead I’m trying to arrange my treatment schedule so it shouldn’t come out on Y”T. But I don’t say anything; I just sit listening, smiling, nodding and silent…

Recently, Bonei Olam approved me for funding to try a treatment I never thought I would be able to afford. Hopefully, this treatment will result in the answer to my years of prayer. Knowing Bonei Olam is funding this treatment not only gives me hope of becoming a mother, I feel as if the community is there giving me chizuk as well. I know the money comes from people in the community. I want to shout out through my tears to each and every one of you, “You cannot imagine how much chizuk and comfort you give me at this moment!” But no, I must remain silent…

May we share good news together.