This is my story.
I should own stock in EPT and ovulation kits. All my life all I had ever wanted was to be a mom. To feel my babe move within me and whisper secrets to my womb-sweet nothings to the child that I would hold in my arms. Month after agonizing month for eleven years I waited. But my body was cruel. I would have all the signs and symptoms of pregnancy only to be told again that this time it wasn't meant to be.
I saw doctors and nurse practitioners. I went to chiropractors and acupuncturists. I spent the better part of my twenties waiting on test results, monitoring temperatures and peeing on sticks. Grasping at any possible opportunity I changed diets and exercises. I took fertility drugs, but I drew the line at IVF. I knew, deep down in my soul that if we tried this and it did not work, I would not be able to go on.
I wrestled with God these years. I took out my anger and frustration and bald faced pain on him. I begged for mercy. I screamed at his decisions. And in the deepest darkest moment of it all, I heard his voice. And I tried to trust.
At 31 years old I kissed goodbye any thought or hope of having a baby. Some people say I gave up. I say I chose hope. I chose to be happy. I chose to stop living my life around cycles and medication and start living in general.
These last two years have been learning years for me. I've learned that in this big 'ole mess of infertility and brokenness, through the ugly cries and the absolution of surgery, that it is in my brokenness that Jesus finds my beauty. It is through this story that he gave me, not out of cruelty but out of love, that there is opportunity to use this voice of mine. He has brought me women who can relate to my scars. He has given me the chance to be a support to others. He has made from the ashes something that is beautiful.
And within this story, the most beautiful thing of all? He's not finished writing yet.