Friday, April 25, 2014

National Infertility Awareness Week: My Story

The last two years have been learning years for me. I've learned to find my voice. I've learned to say goodbye. I've learned that choosing hope is different than giving up. I've learned that being broken-honestly, truly, shattered is beautiful. I've learned that I feel the most beautiful when my hubby tells me I'm strong. When he whispers to me that I am brave. I've learned that we all have a story and that stories are meant to be told. Not only around the campfire but from the pages of a blog to the pages of a book to the conference rooms around the world. I've learned that your story doesn't have to define you, but it is a part of you, and that true redemption is found when the scary words are shared.  Our stories are so important-so vital. They are necessary, and they are a blessing and a balm to the soul.

 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. 

6 comments:

  1. So proud. ... Just saying:) :) Through a long and difficult journey you have found your voice and He has found a willing heart! Love and Hugs

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  2. Cassaundra RobinsonApril 26, 2014 at 1:01 PM

    So beautifully said. And such a beautiful perspective to have.

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  3. How beautiful your story is. Not because now you have all the answers. Not because met you desire in a perfect (in human eyes way). No it is beautiful because it it yours. Because it gives hope to others and bring glory to Him.

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  4. Thanks Amy. :)

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  5. Thank you, Cassaundra!

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  6. Thanks mom. :)

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