Inside the Tears

Infertility has messed me up in ways I don't even understand. Here's a glimpse into a struggle with myself:

Davy, why are you crying?
Because the tears are below the surface much of the time and sometimes they just spill over.

Don't you know that God is good?
Yes, He is. But I don't know what to do with that truth when it hurts. 

Are you believing that Jesus + Nothing = Everything, or have you decided that Jesus + Children = Everything?
If I had to choose between Christ and children, I would choose Christ. However, I feel confident that He has children for us. 

Seriously, why are you still crying?
I don't even know anymore. Maybe because people around me are having kids. People who didn't even know each other when we got married have kids now. People who got married after we started trying to conceive have two-year-olds and new babies. 

Would you want different for them?
No. I would not want anyone to go through pain like ours. Somehow, it still hurts.

It sounds like you are dealing with sins such as envy and selfishness.
Am I? I'm having a hard time distinguishing between godly sorrow and sin.

You should just trust in God's promises.
Okay, like this one from Psalm 128?

Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord, who walks in his ways!You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you.
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house;your children will be like olive shoots around your table.Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord.

That one sure comes up a lot, but it doesn't seem to apply to us. Instead, it feels like salt in an open wound. Are we not part of "everyone"? Do we not fear the Lord enough?

Don't get caught up on that. The Bible includes several stories about barren women, and their barrenness is not due to lack of faith. Rather, it is for God's unique purposes.
Right. [Deep breaths]. 

I don't want to guess God's purposes, but have definitely thought about our future child(ren). We would probably not commit so much time and money into the infant adoption process if we had been able to conceive.
Sure, but we are just wasting time. The years are slipping by. 

The time is not wasted. If God has a specific child out there for us (and we believe He does), He needs to work every detail out accordingly. That child has a specific birthday, and every step of your process, from infertility to home study to approval to waiting, is pointing toward that day. You cannot go too fast or too slow. God has everything under control and is working out His perfect plan.
I know. I do trust Him, and I really look forward to seeing the plan unfold. But our arms are so empty. Our house is SO quiet. We feel so alone. 

You aren't.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

This post is linked up with Titus 2sDay and the Infertility Link-Up. 

Infertility Is Like A Sliver

[I wrote this post last week, but haven't had internet until today. Better late than never, right? Moving is a pretty good excuse, I think.]

I have a sliver in my finger from the trim in our new house. It doesn't want to come out. At first, my finger was sore and inflamed. The sliver made it hard to continue life as usual. The sliver would catch on everything and send shooting pain up my sensitive pinky. Trying to remove the sliver just made it worse. Eventually, the swelling went down and the soreness went away. But, the sliver still catches on things sometimes. Just when I forget, my finger gets bumped.

Infertility is the same way. In some seasons, infertility has sent shooting pain into every part of my life. In others, I forget the infertility sliver is there until it gets bumped. In all seasons, I want it gone.

Due to our shift toward adoption, our big trip, and our new house, infertility has been a much smaller part of my life lately (Praise the Lord!). Distraction has been so good. I was reminded last weekend that infertility is not gone. My infertility sliver was bumped.

It was a perfect storm. I was exhausted from working so hard on the house. My hormones were at that cry-at-anything level. And I hadn't thought about infertility in a while. Then, we went to church. At one point in the service, my thoughts became self focused and I started thinking about how long we have been trying to start a family: 3.5 years. If you haven't done this mental exercise yet, just don't go there. Nothing good can come of it. Anyway, I started calculating. In the last three years, that couple has had two kids. This other couple has gotten married, had one kid, and is expecting another. You see? Bad idea. As the numbers and covetousness rolled through my head, my husband turned and asked if I was okay. I said yes, then started to wonder if he was okay. Our family-oriented church has been a tough place for both of us to be at times. Nothing makes me cry faster than seeing my husband hurting like that. I didn't cry though, not yet.

Then, we sang "The Song." The song that hurts our hearts every time. The one that makes us wonder what we did to deserve infertility, then makes us remind ourselves that God is not vengeful like that. That God is good. The song that bumps my infertility sliver so hard every time. The song we used to love, called "Blessed the Man that Fears Jehovah." It is based on Psalm 128:

Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord,

who walks in his ways!

You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands;

you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you.

Your wife will be like a fruitful vine

within your house;

your children will be like olive shoots

around your table.

Behold, thus shall the man be blessed

who fears the Lord.

The Lord bless you from Zion!

May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem

all the days of your life!

May you see your children's children!

Peace be upon Israel!

I lost it. In the middle of church. I thought about leaving, but my face does not handle crying discreetly. The instantly bright red nose and eyes would be a dead give away. So, I stayed in the pew with tears streaming down my face and my husbands arm around me. Stupid infertility. 

And thus, I was reminded that the infertility sliver has not gone anywhere. It is still there and will continue to be bumped. Eventually, God will remove the infertility sliver, hopefully by blessing us with adopted or biological children. Until that day, I need to be prepared. I need to remind myself that God is good and that infertility has brought blessings, not just sorrow. I need to avoid the trap of comparison and envy. I must choose joy in spite of the sliver.

P.S. By the way, the actual sliver in my finger is tiny. It does not want to be removed, but will work it's way out eventually.

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.

Not According To Plan

Remember how we chose the "aggressive" route for infertility testing and treatment? Guess how many of the things we planned to do this month actually happened. Zero. The HSG couldn't happen due to a scheduling conflict between our doctor and the hospital.

I was supposed to have several hormones checked through blood tests yesterday. On Sunday, it was about 70 degrees here. Yesterday, we had a snowstorm that caused the clinic to close, which meant that my test was canceled. Since yesterday was THE day to check those particular hormones, we have to wait another month for that one, too.

It feels like we are spinning our wheels. C and I had both been pretty down about infertility before my appointment in early February. Then, the appointment gave us hope. We had a plan and were going to be aggressive about the next steps. So far, nothing has gone according to plan. These road bumps are an extra reminder of other things that haven't gone according to plan, like having children.

One purpose of this blog is to provide an honest insight into infertility. If I put a positive or hopeful spin on everything, it won't be honest. Sometimes, hope is elusive and we just cannot think of positives. In these times, sins of selfishness, bitterness, anger, and envy creep in. Sometimes, the tears just flow.

Seasons of Infertility

Infertility seems to involve seasons. Sometimes we are up, sometimes we are down.

My December was dark, isolated, and miserable. Infertility felt like a heavier weight than ever around my neck. Thankfully, I came home from our Christmas trip feeling encouraged. Our time with family was refreshing, and I just feel more positive.

Unfortunately, my husband is having the opposite experience. He said today that he really wants someone to blame for our infertility. Not me, just someone. In his words, “If infertility was a person, I would punch it in the face.” Infertility is really painful for him this month. It’s hard to be around kids and families.

A Dark Time

This month is the closest I have ever been to depression. After deciding to let myself grieve, the tears won’t stop. My husband doesn’t know what to do with his weepy wife. I am typically even-keeled, not the type of person to jump up and down in excitement or cry at sad movies. Last Sunday, I cried through much of the church service.

Some of the tears may be related to my lack of purpose in this phase. My wise husband encouraged me to take a step back from my part-time job and pursue volunteering instead. Maybe volunteering will help me focus on others instead of myself.

Our Christmas trip will be a good diversion.

On Grief

I turned twenty-eight last week. We always wanted to be “young” parents, but that is obviously not going to happen.

This blog post by Stacy Fulton really hit me today. Here’s a quote:

There's nothing wrong with the grief you experience and the intensity of feelings that may seem to overwhelm you at times. However, you must make a choice to work through the grief process and allow the Holy Spirit to do a work in you through it. When you ignore or push aside the grieving process, it only serves as a means to build walls, to become bitter and even unreachable.
Those who allow themselves to grieve properly, to feel, and make themselves vulnerable to GOD in the process will be the ones who come out on the other side of this changed. Regardless of the outcome, you will be changed.*

I can see now that I have built walls to protect myself, but they may actually be hindering me. By pushing away the grief of infertility, I am removing the occasion for the Comforter to step in. Regardless of the outcome of infertility, I want to be changed for the better through the experience. I want my faith to be stronger. I want to be refined by trials, not hardened by them.

*Fulton, Stacy. "Good Grief! Am I Going Crazy?." StacyFulton.com. N.p., 22 Oct. 2012. Web. 2 Dec. 2013. <http://stacyfulton.com/blog/2012/10/22/good-grief-am-i-going-crazy>.

A Kind Announcement

We are now in round two (or three) of friends having babies. We missed the first (and second) rounds completely. This one is harder.

I am very thankful to the friend who announced her pregnancy so gently. Having briefly struggled with infertility, she understands the mixture of pain and joy at pregnancy announcements. I appreciated her method for several reasons:

• She made sure we were alone. Tears can be close to the surface, and pregnancy announcements may or may not make them overflow at bad times. By telling me privately, she gave me the freedom to cry in private rather than in front of others.
• She told me directly and in person. Knowing the announcement could cause pain, she could have taken an easier route like a Facebook post or text message. The news would have been even more painful second hand.
• She verbally acknowledged that the announcement could cause me pain. Her care and concern for me softened the blow. 
• She gave me an opportunity to celebrate with her. Pregnancy announcements are exciting and joyous. My desire to have what she has should not be allowed to rob me of joy for her.

Thankfully, the tears waited until she was gone. Then, I retreated into a world of tissues and prayer journals.

A Poem and A Prayer

We're left behind again today.
I don't know how to feel.
Tears are streaming down my face.
Lord, what are you calling us to?
I'm in an in-between with no end in sight.
I never wanted a career.
I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and wife.
Now what?

Are You calling us to adopt?
To be foster parents?
Are You teaching us to wait?
Waiting for us to obey?
Good gifts come from You.
We don't earn them.
Should we try? (No.)

Give me patience and faith in the waiting.
Guide us to any steps we should take.

I try to include myself, plan events, stay engaged. It's hard when talk revolves around kids; I just can't relate.

I love kids. I love my friends and their kids. I'm thrilled for them when they are expecting more kids. So where do I fit in? Should I be the ever-faithful babysitter? Do I dare try to do a ladies event that isn't a play date?

It's a lonely place: infertility. My husband feels it, too. Few people understand. None of our local friends do.

Lord, please help us. Get our hearts in the right place. Align our desires with Yours. May we rely on You and be united. Give us grace to be thankful, whatever the circumstances.

In Jesus' Name,

Amen

The chiropractor said that the fused pelvis could contribute to infertility, but likely would not be a major factor. I had hoped that a heel lift and chiropractic adjustments would do the trick. Not anymore.

Tears in My Sleep

Dear Lord,

I confess struggling with envy today. In my sleep, I was crying about friends having their baby. In my wakefulness, it didn't really bother me, but apparently it did inside. I am thrilled for them. The struggle is that we both started trying to conceive around the same time and didn't right away. Then, they announced that they were pregnant. We still aren't, and now they are parents.

I am happy for them and the MANY others who are new parents, and I am trying not to be envious. Please give us an appreciation for this phase of life and a peace that You will open my womb when (and if???) the time is perfect. In the meantime, may we seek Your face and honor You in everything.

In Jesus' Name,

Amen

Left Behind

Dear Lord,

Thank you for making promises and being consistent in keeping them. You promise that all things work together for good for those who love You and are called according to Your purpose (Romans 8:28). We trust You in that; give us faith to trust You more.

Last night was hard because we learned of another couple who is pregnant. These friends started trying to start a family when we did and could relate to our situation. We are happy for them, but I couldn't help crying. We don't know exactly why you have chosen not to give us a baby at this time, but will trust You and try to learn from the experience.

Please bless the many pregnancies around us and the new families. Help us to be joyful with our friends.

In Jesus' Name,

Amen

One Year TTC

It’s been a year.

We tried to honor God in our family planning. Although not wanting to start a family during law school, we chose to avoid hormonal birth control. As pro-life people, we believe that life begins at conception. We could not justify using anything that could end a life.

As a result, we chose the harder route: fertility charting. After more than three years of doing the right thing, we expected God to give us a child in our timing. Clearly, He has a different plan.