I'm A Dud (Not Our News, Part 3)

Note: This post is Part 3 of the "Not Our News" series. The events and feelings depicted actually occurred a few weeks ago but could not be shared until the news was public. Also, the people involved gave me permission to share. 

Three Days After the News

One purpose of this blog is to provide insight into infertility. I would be dishonest to put a positive or hopeful spin on everything. Sometimes, hope is elusive and we just cannot think of positives. In these times, sins of selfishness, bitterness, and envy are easy to fall into. Sometimes, they get the better of us.

Right now, I feel like a dud. We had almost six years to make C's parents into grandparents, but we failed. There is no excitement quite like the excitement produced by the first grandchild. We've been a part of it on my side of the family and always anticipated being the ones to give such joy to his side. When his younger sister got married last summer, we realized that they could have a baby before us. Every time they have called since then, we have wondered if they had news. This time, they did.

When my sister-in-law texted about doing a video call with us later that week, I knew instantly what it was about. My heart dropped into my stomach. I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure I would be able to respond graciously. I wasn't sure that I could feel joy for them in spite of my sorrow. I wasn't sure that I could hold a conversation without collapsing in tears. I didn't want to rob them of the joy that they should rightly feel, but I wasn't ready.

Thankfully, the Lord answered my prayers. C's sister and her husband have been very intentional about walking through infertility with us. They were just as intentional in announcing pregnancy. I was able to feel and express joy as long as I focused on them. As soon as my thoughts drifted to our situation, the tears started. One of the things I had prayed for was a transparent conversation with them. If we only showed joy and not pain, it wouldn't have been real. We would have put up a barrier, a false front. Instead, we were able to experience the joy and the pain together, complete with tears.

A few days later, I feel like a dud, a failure. I've never cried so much.