May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable before You, Lord, my Strength and my Redeemer. - Psalms Chapter 19
Hearken, O Lord, to my voice [which] I call out, and be gracious to me and answer me. -
When my husband and I were trying to conceive, I prayed constantly. I said Psalms. I read the prayer for a child from my Siddur (prayer book). I used my own words. I begged G-d for a child. I could think of a million reasons and I shared them all with G-d.
Rosh Hashanah 2011, the Rabbi based his sermon, based on the story of Chanah (from whom we learn how we should be praying) and started with the following words: "unless you know the pain of infertility...". I felt hot tears streaming down my face. I don't remember much of what he said after that, I just felt my heart broken. When the services continued, I covered my face with the Siddur and the only words I had left for G-d was "Please". There were no other words, just "Please".
This past May, as I leaned against the stones of the Kotel (Western Wall), I prayed and started to cry, and the experience felt like I was crying in my Father's Arms.
Every night I do prayer time with my son. My son and I recite the Shemah and I pray to G-d, admittedly with a list of requests and a list of thank you's. I feel the connection every night, it's a holy time and one day my son will also speak to G-d in his own way.