Dave and I got bad news on the fertility front. We were told that we have no chance of conceiving a biological child without IVF, and our chances with IVF are only 35% (because of our circumstances) with a price tag of $15-20k. We had already drawn the line at IVF so it was an easy decision, and hard at the same time.
So often families that have issues with infertility are secretive about it, embarrassed perhaps by their inability to perform the most basic of human abilities. After all, God tells Adam and Eve to "be fruitful and multiply" in the Garden of Eden. As I've been more open about our struggles, I've found more and more people who have walked our path, perhaps not all the way, but to some extent. You see, we are the minority of people trying to conceive. Not many get all the way to the end of the road, most take the exits before us.
Perhaps that's why so few know how to comfort someone grieving because of infertility.
The last few weeks have been a period of grief and loss for us (again - we went through something similar before we started the adoption process in Spring/Summer 2007). Any sense of "normal" has been completely smashed to smithereens. Any hope of pregnancy is being tossed out.
Yes, I know. The God of the Universe can certainly perform a miracle for us. He is almighty and in complete control over His creation. Yes, I know I'll be stronger in the long run. Yes, I know...that's not the point. This is the path God has chosen for me and Dave and Eli. And it's a path with rough terrain.
I guess you could say I'm reformatting my mind to fit what I want to what God desires for me. And it's a painful experience. I have to let go of things I'll never experience, things most people take for granted: my children's first moments, first kick in the womb, first words, being there from the beginning, the weight gain, the pain of birth, breastfeeding. But this has even farther reaching effects. When Eli marries or if I have a daughter, I won't be able to understand all that they're going through, empathize, give advice or tell her "It's normal to feel that way" because I won't know.
I'm amazed at the irrational thoughts that can plague the infertile persons mind. Thoughts like "God hates me" or "I'm not doing a good enough job raising Eli" or "I'm a terrible Mom". I know none of those is true, but last Friday these were my thoughts. The anger set in (4 days after receiving the news, I might add) and my mind went racing. I was grumpy and tired and really sensitive. That was a rough day. The next few days were filled with a deep sadness, a "breath in, breath out" "One step in front of another" kind of living.
While I'm still grieving, and will probably grieve for the rest of my life, I'm glad my foundation is in Christ. This was a non load bearing wall (can you tell we're remodeling?). These types of tragedies don't have to have a bad ending. I recognize that God has given us this for His glory to be revealed through me. So He can comfort me so I can comfort others. And I know He is grieving with me, angered by the effects of sin in this world.
While we're going through this time, please pray for us to rebuild this dream with God's will for our lives at the middle. Pray that I can one day be excited for friends who are pregnant without feeling that pang of jealousy. Pray that I can appreciate where God has me and see His glory through our circumstances.