Waiting for My Plans to Be Thwarted

God is good. His plan is perfect, far better than anything I could come up with. I can trust Him.

God is good. His plan is perfect, far better than anything I could come up with. I can trust Him.

This is my mantra lately.

I have found myself holding my breath in preparation for my plans to be thwarted. Then, I find myself frustrated with God for thwarting my plans in ways that haven't even happened yet.

Ridiculous? Yes. Reality? Also yes.

You see, we are about to officially begin the adoption process. Our first agency meeting is on Thursday, and I find myself hesitant. I am so excited about adoption and want to get there already. However, other feelings have surprised me. After transitioning from TTC to adoption, I am totally on board with adoption and not at all on board with getting pregnant. After wanting something for so long, I am shocked to find myself hoping it doesn't happen. And yet, here I am.

Many months ago, I came across an infertility blogger who immediately got back on the pill after deciding to stop treatments. At the time, I thought she was crazy. Why would you want to remove the chance of getting what you want at a time you didn't plan? Now, I get it. I think it's about control for me. I want things to go my way.

We wanted to conceive, but thus far God has thwarted that plan. Nearly four years later, we have become excited to adopt, and God better not mess it up this time. Woah! My surprising feelings are revealing a lack of faith and trust in God.

God is good. His plan is perfect, far better than anything I could come up with. I can trust Him.

My husband and I worked through my feelings over dinner last night. Mostly, I threw "what ifs" at him, and he calmly responded.

Me: "What if we start the adoption process and then find ourselves pregnant?!"
Him: "Then, we would get excited about our miracle baby."

Me: "What if people had donated money to help us pay for adoption?!"
Him: "Then, we would put the money in a fund for a future adoption. Having a biological child would not remove our desire to adopt."

Me: "But, but, but..."

And so, with much trepidation on my part, we begin the process. Please pray for us. After struggling through an abundance of disappointments and delays, we would love for something to go well and fall into place. If nothing else, we would like to walk away from the meeting on Thursday confident that we do or do not want to work with that agency.

If our family grows through adoption, God is already bringing circumstances together that will lead to a child being displaced from his or her biological family. Adoption begins with this tragedy. It is messy and sad and beautiful and happy and a picture of the gospel. Our adoption will be these things. Please join us in prayer.

God is good. His plan is perfect, far better than anything we could come up with. We can trust Him.

God is good. His plan is perfect. We can trust Him.

This post is linked up with Amateur Nester's Infertility Link Up.

I Asked The Lord

Sometimes, church hits you in the face in a good way. This Sunday was one of those days for me. I was introduced to a hymn that could have been written by me [you know, if I was the poet/hymn writer type]. Fellow sufferers may relate. The hymn is "I Asked the Lord That I Might Grow," by John Newton. Here are the words:

I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith, and love, and every grace;
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek, more earnestly, His face. 

’Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And He, I trust, has answered prayer!
But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair. 

I hoped that in some favored hour,
At once He’d answer my request;
And by His love’s constraining pow’r,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest. 

Instead of this, He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow’rs of hell
Assault my soul in every part. 

Yea more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low. 

Lord, why is this, I trembling cried,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
“’Tis in this way, the Lord replied,
I answer prayer for grace and faith. 

These inward trials I employ,
From self, and pride, to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou may’st find thy all in Me.” 

In his sermon, the pastor talked about being angry with God. I have felt hurt and frustrated by God, but had never realized that I might be a little angry at Him, too. After all, I know He is good, I know His plan is better than mine, so why would I be angry?

One part of the song hit the nail on the head:

Yea more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds,* and laid me low.

There's the reason for my anger. I had a plan. God ruined it. He ripped it up, stomped on it, and carried out His instead. How rude!

As a planner, I like to know where to go, what to bring, and exactly what is going to happen. My plan was as follows:

• Get married: check
• Set an example to other couples of the right way to do birth control (FAM) by naturally preventing pregnancy during law school: check
• Get pregnant as soon as law school ended, which would be easy after three years of charting: negatory
• Have four biological children, then adopt three: about that...

It was a good plan, or so I thought. Now, I see some pride and control issues. Either way, God messed with my plan, and I think it really has made me angry. But, I don't want to stay there. May the mission be accomplished in my soul:

These inward trials I employ,
From self, and pride, to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou may’st find thy all in Me.

Through infertility and extended childlessness, may the Lord free me from pride and selfishness until I find my all in Him. It's scary to pray that, but I want it to be true. Will you join me?

*"Blasted my gourds" likely refers to Jonah 4:7, in which God sends a worm to chew the plant Jonah had trusted for shelter.

- This version of the song can be downloaded here:  I Asked The Lord [Emily Deloach]

This post is linked with Amateur Nester's Infertility Link Up, Titus 2sdays, and Monday Musings.

What We Thought We Wanted

We have been working crazy hours on the house. While swishing a paintbrush, a little thought keeps popping into my head: "This process would be so much harder if we had kids." Every time, I quickly add, "Of course, I would much rather have kids."

Working on the house has reminded me of the things that we wanted to do before having kids. Couples often come up with a before-children to-do list that looks something like this:

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.

You Are Not Alone

I spent the weekend with 4,000 women. The conference was wonderful, but I will share more about that later. Today, I just want to remind you that you are not alone, whatever your struggle. The interactions I had with a variety of women reminded me of that fact. One woman recently experienced a miscarriage, one mother dealt with infertility for several years before having biological children, and her sister was adopted and has adopted through foster care. Another women is dealing with secondary infertility, yet another has walked through endometriosis and cervical cancer and is beginning the adoption process. And those were just the women I talked to! In a crowd of 4,000, there must have been many, many more.

Recognizing the similar struggles of these women also reminded me of the other struggles represented. The mother of a child with disabilities was not alone. The caretaker of aging parents was not alone. The widow was not alone. Every woman there had a struggle, and she was not alone. 

Let's live that way. Let's recognize the struggles of those around us. Let's be willing to be vulnerable with our own struggles. Let's encourage one another. We are not alone.

*This post was linked up with the Infertility Link Up.

5+ Thoughts on Infertility and Adoption

We are in a strange place between infertility and adoption. Infertility has not left us, but we are not doing anything about it right now. Adoption has been decided upon, but we are not doing anything about it right now. In this in-between phase, several thoughts have been tumbling around in my head.

[I recently read a caution for bloggers to avoid publishing incomplete thoughts. I am warning you in advance: these thoughts are half-baked.]

• I think that God is wise to point us toward "paper pregnancy" rather than normal pregnancy. I am a nerd and actually enjoy paperwork. On the other hand, I do not enjoy medical procedures of any kind. Physical pain is not a particular favorite, either. So, paper pregnancy just might be the way to go. 
• The costs involved in adoption are staggering. A home study will be one of our first major expenses, costing around $4,000. I understand that labor and delivery costs just slightly more than that, but that's beside the point. The home study is only the beginning.
• We eagerly anticipate the day our child is placed in our arms. However, on or near that day, the placement fee will be due. Depending on the circumstances, the placement fee could be around $18,000. That is a lot of money. So, on one hand, we want the adoption process to go as quickly as possible. On the other hand, we need time to save and raise money. A lot of money. 
• I have been told to expect the final total to be around $30,000. Thirty thousand dollars. When I hear a number like that, I start to think, "Maybe we could have tried just a few more infertility treatments." Then I remember what infertility land was like. I hated it. I hated the procedures, the paralyzing thoughts, the illusions of control and lack thereof, the waiting. No part of me wants to go back to that.
• In some ways, the costs of infertility treatment and adoption may be comparable. For example, one round of IVF might cost $25,000, slightly less than adoption (I realize that treatments and various types of adoption have drastically different costs, so this is just an example). In another way, the costs are very different. With adoption, the majority of the expense is paid only when a child is placed in our arms. With infertility treatment, the costs may be small or they may stack up to $90,000 or more. We would have to pay for the treatment regardless of the outcome. So, we could have paid many thousands of dollars and still not end up with a child. To me, it felt like trying to fill a bucket that may or may not have a bottom. 

I know it's cliche, but I wouldn't wish infertility on anyone. My heart is heavy for the people I know still struggling through infertility treatments. This post is not meant to pressure anyone to stop treatments and pursue adoption. I think that adoption should not be pursued unless your heart is in it. If your heart is still in treatments, it's not time to adopt. My heart was not in treatments anymore. God seems to have pointed our hearts toward adoption at this time, but the agony of infertility does not quickly disappear. I believe that God used pain and struggle to change us. Eventually, we realized that adoption didn't feel like a back-up plan, but was instead an exciting option. I do not understand the methods, but I trust His plan.

This post is linked up with Amateur Nester's Infertility Linkup.

Silence, Puppies, and Contentment

We almost bought a puppy this weekend. If not for the upcoming move, I think we would have. He was a playful little Morkie (Maltese/Yorkshire Terrier) at the pet store we shouldn't have visited. We have talked ourselves out of getting a dog for years. They are expensive. They are restrictive. They are dirty. They are a lot of work.

And yet, I think we will get a dog soon. Why? To take away the silence. To bring life into our home. To distract us and get us outside.

Sometimes silence is sweet. Other times, it reminds you of what is missing. My mom friends may wish for some of that silence. Don't. You wouldn't enjoy it for long. No noise unless you make it. No entertainment unless you find it. No living person or thing that needs you to get up in the morning. No giggles. No pitter patter. Just you. Trust me, you wouldn't enjoy it for long.

Silence belongs in certain phases of life. This is not one of them. Empty nesters have years of noise and activity to remember. After the chaos of wedding preparation, newlyweds enjoy the silence of just being alone together. Don't get me wrong, we still enjoy being together. We are best friends. But sometimes, the silence is deafening.

We can and do distract ourselves. I think some of our bad habits may be efforts to distract ourselves. At the end of the day, our home is silent. So, we should get a dog, right? I used to laugh at people who had dogs instead of children. Dogs are obviously NOT children. But, they are alive, they depend on you, they entertain you, and they make noise.

This post is not intended to make you feel sorry for me. Maybe it can remind us all to be content whatever the circumstances, whether noisy or silent. Maybe it can remind us that God is enough. We don't need God and kids or God and a puppy; we need the peace and satisfaction that only He can provide.

For my friends dealing with infertility, how have you coped with the silence? Have your furry friends been therapeutic? What verses have encouraged you?

This post was linked up with Amateur Nester, WFMW (Works For Me Wednesday), Winsome Wednesday, and Rich Faith Rising.

Adoption Is Not The Easy Way Out

I recently encountered the concept of "resolving" infertility. In my understanding, this resolution can be through eventually bearing children, through adoption, or through deciding to live a childless life. Basically, resolving infertility is moving on.

To some people, adoption seems like the easy way out. Let me assure you: adoption is many things, but easy is not one of them. The costs seem insurmountable, the paperwork endless, and the emotional risks just scary. Adoption means putting your heart on the line.

As we prepare to begin the process, new fears are surfacing. This weekend, we learned that our friends are going through a failed adoption. Is that in our future? We know that adoption is complicated and risky, but seeing one fall through made the risk more real. We have said that we don't feel strong enough for foster care. After so many years of longing for a child, we cannot imagine having one only to have him or her returned to a bad situation. A failed adoption must feel the same way.

Life involves risk. Period. Infertility treatments have risks. Adoption has risks. So, we press on. After hearing the sad news this weekend, I was encouraged by Psalm 94:18-19.

Yes, adoption is risky; however, many adoptions are successful. When I see families like the one in this video, I get so excited to see what God has for us. Our family is a blank slate right now. We are confident that it will not stay that way, and we pray that God gives us strength and wisdom on the journey. 

This post is linked up with: Faith and Fellowship Blog Hop, Monday's Musings, Winsome Wednesday,  Word Filled Wednesday, and A Wise Woman Builds Her Home.

Adoption Does Not Cause Pregnancy, and Other Thoughts

You may have read lists of things to say and not to say to people in certain categories (e.g. pregnant women, adoptive parents, etc.). Infertility is one of those categories.

Many of us in the infertility world have heard this one a few times: "Once you start the adoption process, you'll get pregnant. That's what happened to my friend." Adoption does not cause pregnancy. Seriously, it doesn't. Some people may conceive during the adoption process, but the adoption had nothing to do with it.

As we turn toward adoption, I find myself afraid of reinforcing the misconception. "What if I'm THAT person, the one that gets pregnant during the adoption process?!! That would be so horrible!" Then, I realize that I'm saying pregnancy would be horrible. Pregnancy: the condition I have been trying to achieve for so many years. Ridiculous. If I had to choose between reinforcing a misconception or having a child, I would obviously choose having a child. Obviously.

Other than these ridiculous thoughts, I am in a great place right now. I am happier than I have been for a LONG time. I'm excited about things like our new house and an upcoming trip to Florida. More than anything, I'm excited about adoption. We both are. I know it will be a long journey, possibly involving heartbreak. Still, I am excited. For the first time, I am watching for items for our baby's room ["Our baby"? What?]. Lord willing, a baby will be joining our family in the next year or so. This is really happening, and I'm excited!

Burden or Blessing?

I recently came across Jillian's story. Jillian and her husband walked through infertility to international adoption, and then back into the infertility world. Her story is particularly meaningful to me, because I would not be surprised to follow in her footsteps. While excited to pursue adoption, we may consider further treatments in several years.

On the other hand, I notice a striking difference in our stories. Jillian describes the longing she feels to experience pregnancy. I used to feel that, but the feeling seems to be gone. I find myself very curious about pregnancy and excited for my pregnant friends, but that is all. The change makes me wonder if God had a different plan for me all along. I consider my hatred of needles, my low pain tolerance, and my hesitance about many things pregnancy would require. Maybe God knew that infertility would refine me and that adoption would be better for us. Maybe the burden of infertility was actually a blessing.

While more treatments may be in our future, we are proceeding as if each of our children will be placed in our home through adoption. God's plan is perfect, and He will carry it out. We are trusting Him to lead us and provide for each step of the journey.

Side Note: Thinking about childlessness and infertility can be really heavy sometimes. If you need a pick-me-up, feel free to stop by my other blog for "What A Difference A Towel Makes." The post is about my most recent rookie mistake at the gym.

A (Major) Change of Plans

Our plans have changed dramatically in the last few weeks. I am still working to wrap my mind around everything, which is why I haven't shared the change on the blog until today. Our families have been very supportive throughout our journey, so we wanted to let them know first. Here is the email we sent:

Dear Family,
Our lives have taken a turn, and we want to bring you up to speed. For various reasons, we have decided to stop infertility testing and treatments for the foreseeable future. We will not be doing another round of Clomid after all. Instead, we are going to take the summer to focus on our new house. In September, we plan to begin the adoption process.

After more than three years of trying to conceive, this change feels very strange. Davy feels that infertility has been a factor in every decision she has made, from what to eat, to how to sit, to what soap to use. Freedom from the bondage of infertility seems very foreign. We are trying to come to grips with the untidiness of this decision. While testing has come to an end, the possibility of pregnancy will be there indefinitely. Some people go on birth control when they stop infertility treatments. We are starting to see why. Birth control is exactly that: control. We are surrendering (or attempting to surrender) control. God could choose to bless us with a surprise, but we will not be planning on that possibility.

This fall, we plan to take steps toward infant adoption. In an effort to truly take the summer off from family “planning” (as if planning is all it takes), we are not doing a lot of research or preparation yet. We have a local agency in mind, but will need to have certain questions answered before making a final decision.

You have all been so supportive in our journey. We are thankful and feel very blessed. If you would like to come alongside us and learn more, please consider reading the book Adopted for Life, by Russell Moore. The author and his wife have walked through infertility, adoption, and eventually had biological children. The book includes information for couples like us and for people who know couples like us (that’s you).

Please note that this decision does not have to be permanent. As many people remind us, we are still young(ish). If we wanted to pursue more treatment in several years, we could. For now, we plan to pursue adoption. We believe that God has a family planned for us, and we are excited to see who He places in our family and how. It’s exciting. Please be excited with us and please pray with us.
We love you all.
C and Davy

So there you have it. We are taking the summer off and then plan to pursue adoption. The ramifications are complex, so I will post more thoughts soon. If you have any questions, please leave them below. I will try to address them in a future post. Thank you for the support and encouragement.

Mother's Day for the Wanna-Be's

Mother's Day can be a tough one for childless people like me. Surprisingly, it didn't bother me this year. I have learned that emotions really cannot be predicted. Why would I burst into tears during a random church service, but not on Mother's Day? Maybe expecting strong emotion is enough to keep it away. Anyway, I am just one person dealing with infertility. There are many, many more. If you truly want to understand how the infertile people around you are feeling, try reading some of these posts:

• "I Heard What You Said"- A sweet story about Mother's Day and reaching out.
• "Happy Mother's Day" - Mother's Day after miscarriages 
• "Infertility Is A Cruel Cruel World" - On surviving Mother's Day
• "Mother's Day 2014" - Kind gestures on Mother's Day

I noticed several thoughtful posts circulating last week, specifically here, here, here, and here. They encouraged people to remember people who may struggle on Mother's Day. I think we should try to be mindful of those around us, but still fully embrace joy. A friend may be mourning the loss of her mother, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't celebrate your own mother. Similarly, my lack of children doesn't mean that you should avoid celebrating yours.

On Sunday, I received messages and hugs from several friends. They realized it could be a tough day, so wanted to let me know they were thinking of and praying for me. I felt very loved. Mothers are worth celebrating. As I have said before, I don't want my infertility to dampen anyone else's joy. Kind gestures are deeply appreciated, but I would not want to shift the focus of the day to myself. Someday, Mother's Day will apply to me, and I look forward to that day!

Clomid Round 1: A Failure

Clomid is not our wonder drug. From what I can tell, round one had precisely zero impact on my body. A few headaches and a queasy stomach made me hopeful that something was happening. Now, I can safely attribute the headaches to normal life and the queasiness to a crazy travel schedule and airport food.

Until today, we included the possibility that I could be pregnant in talking about the future, especially in planning the setup of our new house. Since Clomid can cause multiples, we would joke that twins would be great and that triplets would finally convince our parents to move closer. Now, more than ever, I doubt that I will ever be pregnant. Don't get me wrong, I know it could happen when we least expect (that just happened to one of my infertility friends). It just seems unlikely.

This afternoon, we had a "cumbersation" (a cumbersome conversation) about our next steps. We are not ready to share all of our decisions with the world. I will share one with you: the next round of Clomid will likely be the end of our infertility process for now. That means no more tests, no more treatments, and no more "trying" in the foreseeable future. Surprisingly, we are a little excited. The last several years have been an exhausting emotional roller coaster. Even if the exit is different than hoped, we are ready to get off the roller coaster. This summer will provide freedom that we haven't experienced in a long time. I will be free from viewing everything through an infertility lens. I can drink coffee, exercise just to be healthy, and forget about charting. We can get excited about moving into our new house and working on projects together. Can I get a "woohoo"?

As strange as it feels to be disappointed and excited at the same time, here we are. God has been slowly changing our expectations about family. We still are not sure what our family will look like, but we are excited to see.

Thanks so much for all of the prayers. Without them, I am confident that today would have been much, much harder.

An Open Letter to Family and Friends

Dear Family and Friends,

Thank you for providing prayer, encouragement, and support to us throughout our infertility journey. I started this blog to give insight to those of you who cannot relate and encouragement to those who can. Unfortunately, I did not think through the ramifications of this openness. I am afraid that some blog posts may have caused hurt, confusion, or awkwardness, and I apologize.

Please allow me to clarify how we feel about several things:

• The world doesn't revolve around us. I/we have chosen to be very open about our struggle with infertility. The openness does not indicate importance. Your struggles are as important and possibly as difficult as ours; they are just different. Please don't think that we expect everyone to tiptoe around because of our publicized problem.
• Our infertility is our problem. We do not want anyone feeling awkward about or planning their lives around our struggle with infertility. 
• If you are married and want kids someday, what are you waiting for? As we have learned, families cannot always be planned. Make sure to evaluate your reasons for waiting very carefully.
• If you are pregnant and/or have children, we still like you. ;) Sometimes all the mom/dad and pregnancy talk gets overwhelming, but we realize that is your life. We do appreciate when you choose topics intentionally, realizing that we would love to have the thing (kids) that you may be complaining about. 
• If I have robbed anyone of joy, I am sorry. Please take joy in your phase of life, regardless of us. If you are pregnant, enjoy it! In my selfish moments, that baby bump picture might cause twinges of pain; I can look away. In better moments, I will get excited with you. Pregnancy is a miracle. I don't get to enjoy it myself, but most days I am happy to enjoy it secondhand. 
• If you wonder about something, please ask us. If you don't know how to approach us, just pretend you have no idea about infertility. If you would have called us in a life crisis before, please still do. If you would have announced pregnancy, please still do. Just treat us like "normal" friends or family members. Extra tact is appreciated, but not required.

Thank you for being in our lives. We love you.

C and Davy 

We All Have Burdens

I have heard about several very difficult situations lately. The more I hear, the more I realize that everyone has a burden.

That grumpy cashier at the grocery store? Maybe she just found out her grandson has cancer. That rude phlebotomist? Maybe her husband is leaving her. That perfect couple down the street? Maybe one of them struggles with mental illness. That popular family with cute kids? Maybe they have an estranged sibling or an ill parent.

In the midst of suffering, we often feel alone, like the people around us have easy lives. They can't relate, because they aren't going through our exact type of suffering. Maybe they aren't, but maybe their burden is just as heavy. As I type, I am reminded of this video from a few years ago:

Let's open our eyes. Rather than zooming in on our own pain and suffering, let's come alongside our co-sufferers. Let's do what we can to ease their burdens. In the process, we may lose sight of our own burden for a little while, and maybe it will be lighter the next time we notice.

May our suffering open our eyes to the suffering of others.
May our suffering help us treat others with grace and kindness.
May our suffering make us selfless, not selfish.

Math Problems and an Applicable Article

Last night, I was telling my husband about a recent thought. I realized that even if we conceive, I will not assume the pregnancy will result in taking home a baby. I think infertility has robbed me of some of the joy that would have come from a positive pregnancy test. A positive test should produce joy and excitement, but would likely lead me to fear of miscarriage.

I guess that infertility has thrown off my math. Before this phase, I thought that man + woman = baby, and that woman + pregnancy = "take home" baby. Now I know it's just not that easy. Many couples cannot conceive. Some couples that do conceive experience miscarriage. I don't have facts on this, but it seems like couples dealing with infertility often also experience miscarriages. Anyway, I guess I have turned into a bit of a pessimist.

This morning, I read a very applicable blog post. The post by Rebekah Hannah* is called "Pregnancy After Miscarriage," but I found it very helpful for my stage as well. She mentions wanting to feel nothing in order to avoid feeling pain. She mentions Satan trying to lure us from reading Scripture to seeking too much sleep, entertainment, or food. She explains that Jesus "doesn't promise life free of scars." But he has them too, and "he promises to steady us." If you can relate, I encourage you to read the post. I have already returned to it several times today.


*Hannah, Rebekah. "Pregnancy After Miscarriage." The Gospel Coalition Blog. The Gospel Coalition, n.d. Web. 6 Mar. 2014. <http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2014/03/06/pregnancy-after-miscarriage/>.

Choosing Trust Over Fear

I rarely have a Bible verse stuck in my head. I wish it happened more often. Today, Psalm 112:6-7 has been on repeat in my mind:

The righteous person is not afraid of bad news, but rather firmly trusts in the Lord. My tendency is to choose fear, not trust. 

If I receive bad news, God is good and worthy of trust. Disappointing test results and scheduling delays fall into this category.

If I receive good news that feels like bad news, God is good and worthy of trust. This category can include pregnancy announcements and test results that come back normal and lead nowhere.

If I am afraid of receiving bad news, I need to remind myself that God is good and worthy of trust. And I need to memorize more verses so they get stuck in my head more often.

Are you with me?

Sometimes It Feels Like They Know

Sometimes little kids look at me funny. I know, little kids make a lot of strange expressions that maybe don't mean anything. But, sometimes it feels like they know. They know that I long to have kids, and they are sad that I don't.

Last week, a friend came over with her one-year-old son. The minute he walked in, he came to me and extended his arms to be picked up. I happily complied, and he was content to sit on my hip for quite a while. Before they left, he held his arms out to me again, even though he was already in his mom's arms. Again, I happily complied.

The other day, I enjoyed spending time with a new friend and her daughter, who is nearly two. Her daughter came to me on multiple occasions wanting to be picked up. Once up, she had no apparent plan. I felt special.

You know those babies that have "wise old soul" written all over them? They seem to look at me with compassion.

I'm not suggesting that these little ones ACTUALLY know, but that it sometimes feels like they do. Either way, I'm enjoying the toddler hugs. Can anyone relate?

The Grass Is Always Greener...

One of the hardest parts of infertility is being in the "wrong" life phase. All of your friends are in the parenting life phase; you are left behind.

I was reminded today that this feeling is not unique to infertility. Many people in other life phases long to be in a different one:

• Kids long to be grown up.
• Single people long to be married.
• Parents long to be past the  (teething, Terrible Two's, teenager, etc.)  phase.
• Empty nesters long for their kids to be young again.

The old adage seems true: "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." For those of us in the midst of infertility, having a baby will not end our longing. This side of eternity, we will always have something else to long for. 

This morning, I came across 1 Corinthians 7. Paul was writing about marriage and singleness, saying that both are good. In verse 7, he says, "But each has his own gift from God, one of one kind and one of another." Our current life phase, no matter how difficult, is a gift from God. Paul goes on to say, "Only let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him" (1 Cor. 7:17a).

We do not get to pick a life phase and stay there. Life is fluid, changing continually. Let's live fully now in our current phase. Today, I long to have children, but don't. Instead, I get unlimited time with my husband and best friend, just the two of us. There was a time in which that's all I wanted (ahem, when he was in law school). After children arrive, we might miss our time alone together. So, as we take steps toward that next phase, let's soak up today!

How To Stay Afloat During Infertility

Infertility is a type of suffering. My husband and I have been through seasons of hope, grief, confusion, and more. Looking back on the seasons, I can see what helped lift me out of the dark times:

• Focus on others - Infertility is painful, but other people are in pain, too. Look around and see what needs you can meet for other hurting people. Don't become isolated.
• Be difficult to offend - People will say insensitive things to you. Do not let yourself be offended. People generally mean well. 
• Surrender bitterness - After being upset when a sermon mentioned every group except singles and couples without children, I realized how sensitive I had become. Letting myself become bitter about perceived offenses only hurts me further. 
• Look up - Realize that infertility is one portion of your life, even though it can feel like the only portion of your life. Don't let it be the main thing. Do what you enjoyed doing before infertility barged in. Don't get so focused on infertility that you miss the good things around you.
• Lean on Christ - This one has been tough for me. I like to think of myself as strong and capable of carrying burdens. This one is too heavy, but I sure have tried to carry it alone. Let yourself grieve, and then turn to Christ as your burden-bearer.
• Guard your marriage - Your spouse is likely suffering through infertility as well. I went for a long time feeling sorry for myself and venting to him; then, I realized that he is hurting, too. Girls talk about this stuff; many guys won't mention it. Don't let infertility characterize your marriage. Have fun together. Declare "infertility free" days when the topic will not be mentioned. 

My suffering at this time is infertility, but I think many of these reminders apply to people in other types of suffering as well. 

What helps you during dark seasons?