What will people think of me?
So many people have harder trials than this.
People might judge us for seeking medical intervention to get pregnant.
I'll wait until we're "on the other side" and then I will share.
I haven't had a miscarriage or lost a child, so I must not know true pain.
Those are some of the many excuses I had for not sharing our story.
And I was very upset about our story.
That's the problem though, I saw it as our story.
This month marks three years that we have actively been trying to get pregnant.
35 months on the emotional roller coaster
Countless fertility "diets"
Don't get me started on the vitamins and supplements
Consistent exercise
Acupuncture
More ultrasounds of my empty womb than I wish to count
Prayer & fasting
Stress reduction
Spontaneous traveling (Because everyone says just have fun and you'll get pregnant, right?!)
3 OBGYNs and 2 RE's
Bloodwork galore
3 hysertoscopies
1 D&C
Thousands of dollars out pocket (I wish I was exaggerating)
Thwarted fertility treatments
Hundreds of uncomfortable moments trying to answer "So when are you having kids?"
Zero pregnancies
I thought I knew heartbreak before, but so far nothing [in my life] compares to the silent suffering and pain of infertility. I have never felt so lonely. As strange as it sounds, Trent and I together have never felt so alone. Joyous holidays and occasions have never felt so sad.
We have watched nearly all of our dearest friends conceive the most beautiful babies. And oh how we love our friends' kids!
But we don't fit in. Joining the conversations gets harder and harder. Attending the "family" functions seems more and more pointless. Repeated pregnancy announcements have sent me over the edge. The baby showers lodge me into downward spirals. [In fact, I haven't gone to one in over a year. If I missed yours, I'm sorry. It's me, not you. Really.] I'm ashamed to admit I can't even sit through the baby dedications at church.
I'll be honest. I have become very bitter.
I must not be good enough to be a mom.
Forever the teacher, never the parent.
So this is our reward for saving intimacy for marriage?
I thought our marriage was great, but it must be missing something if God doesn't want us to have kids.
I can't believe the insensitive thing that so-and-so said to me.
I'm done letting our story make me bitter. I want it to make me better. I don't want our suffering to be in vain. I want it to be for the greater good; for God's glory.
Because this weekend it hit me. It's not our story. It's His story.
I've hesitated to share what we are thinking and feeling because of how RAW all of it is. What if I look back and regret how we handled ourselves? What if I regret what I wrote or what we said?
Trent encouraged me with this: Does sharing make us vulnerable? YES! But it also gives God the opportunity to work through it.
So DISCLAIMER. I'm not perfect. We're not perfect. Many times we take one step forward and three steps back. We don't have all the right answers. And if you want to judge me for what I shared or what I will share, go ahead.
But there is one thing I am sure of that I know I must share.
>>> You're not alone. <<<
As hard as it is for me to transparent about our journey, if God uses this to reach just one couple, it will be worth it.
I'm here for you. We're here for you. Don't be afraid to reach out if you need help. I can't promise I have any answers for you, but I'll share the scriptures that have touched me, the stories that have given me hope, and I'll be there to listen and say that comforting me too. I'll join you in your weeping, I'll pray with you over the phone. We can skip the baby aisle at Target together, and I'll rejoice with you when you finally see those two precious pink lines.
We're ready to let our story be His story.
You can follow along on this blog. Let's watch His story unfold.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
-Psalm 34:18
Click here for my next blog post: Starting IVF.
