I Don’t Have to be Pregnant Anymore – On Letting Go

Photo Credit: Brad Smith

Photo Credit: Brad Smith

A year ago one of my friends in my infertility support group calmly and joyfully announced that she asked God to take away her desire to be pregnant. When those words hit my ears, I thought she was nuts (sorry friend). Who would pray such a thing? Isn’t pregnancy a natural and right thing to desire? I could not begin to fathom praying a prayer like that. Not when becoming pregnant with our child was the one thing I wanted most in all of the world. Not when I cried and prayed for this miracle every day. Not when all I wanted was a Baby and a Baby NOW!

Many, many months have passed since that time. Following my surgery that determined that we could not naturally become pregnant (you can read about that here), I grieved and cried every day. My grief was so deep, and my hunger to be pregnant so strong, that it was really hard to see past it. I thought about my friend’s prayer from time to time but I just couldn’t pray it. It was too hard to let go.

Then two months ago, I heard that still, small Voice in my spirit urging me to pray that prayer: To ask God to take away my insatiable hunger to be pregnant. To fully allow Him to implant the desire to adopt into my heart. With a small seed of faith and lots of emotion, I came to Him and made that request. It was a big, “not-my-will-but-Yours” moment for me.

It wasn’t until about a week later that it dawned on me that I felt much lighter. I wasn’t as sad as before. In fact, I realized that I was at a place of deep peace about not being pregnant and about walking the path of adopting. I had greater joy about the Better Plan God chose for us than I had ever had before.

I guess my friend wasn’t nuts (sorry I thought that about you, friend… you know who you are). Or maybe I’ve joined her in the craziness. Whatever the case, I’m so thankful that God answered my prayer and that I can now move ahead with our adoption with a full heart. I’m thankful God is a Good Shepherd who brings us to the place we need to be as we wait for His timing and trust Him. The path often seems uncomfortable, dark, painful but I can already see how beautiful it is. God is Good, friends. He is so Faithful.



Infertility – Our Story

forest-moss-path-1058 (2)Today I’m sharing more about our infertility story.

Ben and I have been trying to have children for 4½ years. I’m a pretty open person,  so when we started trying I told (quite) a few friends. I was excited! I also never expected to have trouble getting pregnant. After all, people get pregnant by accident all the time (a grief all its own) so why wouldn’t we be able to when we’re trying?!

To make matters worse, I have IBS which would often causes me to be sick in the mornings. I consistently got the comment, “Are you sure it’s not morning sickness?” I would laugh it off but after a few months, laughing got harder. After a year, most of the comments had ended and I started wondering why we weren’t pregnant yet. Every month that would go by started to become more painful. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to handle the pain well. I became numb and focused my efforts into my job, existing family and friends, and other projects. Yet the silent pain that is Infertility continued to grow.

It took us a long time to start seeking medical help. I felt so stuck. I wanted to know why we weren’t getting pregnant, yet I was terrified to find out. I both loved and hated the hoping every month.

When I finally made that first doctor’s appointment, I was so happy to be making positive forward movement. Even though it was a long process (due to my own inaction) involving sometimes awkward and painful tests, it was worth it. After all of these tests were complete, we were told that nothing is wrong.

Now we had Unexplained Infertility. This diagnosis is filled with both hope and pain. You have the hope that nothing is wrong – so we really could get pregnant any month. Yet that hope turns to pain and disappointment each month when it just doesn’t happen.

As the years went by, my heart (which wasn’t grieving infertility well) slowly became hard and wounded. I could not go to baby showers anymore (unless they were a really close friend). I did not want to engage with my friends’ children. I would see pregnant ladies in the store and walk the other way. I was afraid to hold babies.

When I left work in the fall of 2014, everything changed. I could no longer pretend that the infertility grief didn’t exist. I had delayed my grieving for so long and now I had nothing else to distract me. It came on with full force. The deep sadness and pain and loss hit my heart like a ton of bricks. I had an insatiable desire to be Mom and no idea how to get there.

We finally received a definitive answer this April. I underwent laparoscopic surgery and it was found that I have severe endometriosis that has blocked my fallopian tubes. We are not able to have children naturally. It was a severe blow to my heart.

I have asked the Why question quite a bit. I have been grieving the fact that our children probably won’t share our DNA. I am grieving the fact that I most likely will never know what it feels like to be pregnant, to give birth. I may never hold my baby and see my husband’s baby picture reflected in his face.

It has been so important for me to grieve this pain. Knowing what is wrong has helped me find closure. God has been doing an awesome work in my heart. I can honestly say I’ve never felt so whole before. As I grieve through and accept reality, I am healing. My heart is opening up. I have a new, deeper love for my friends’ children.  God is giving us new Dreams and new Hope and new Compassion for the pain of others. It’s blowing my mind!

Even though I have days of deep sadness, most of my days are filled with Joy and Peace. God’s plan is better than my own. I believe that as much as I believe the sun will come up tomorrow. I don’t know what it will look like yet, but I trust Him. That’s something I could never have said without walking through the grief.


Infertility’s Impact

hand-garden-flower-dandelionOn April 10 we received the confirmation through surgery that we are not able to have children. I was in shock. I underwent the surgery to find out if I have endometriosis and if so to clear away problem growth to make it easier to get pregnant. I was not prepared for the doctor to tell us the damage cannot be reversed. The massive weight of this news didn’t start hitting my heart until four days later.

The past weeks have been a roller coaster of emotional ups and downs. In the downs, I have never felt this level of grief before. Hours of ugly crying ensues. On those bad days I am afraid to interact with the world around me. It feels like emotional land mines are everywhere. Even making my doctor’s appointment the other day I was bombarded with the dreaded, “why don’t you have kids yet,” question.

It has been a long journey. Four and a half years of trying, hoping, praying, wondering…suddenly ended. Years of testing… done forever. The Death of a Dream.

Scripture says, “hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Prov. 13:12). Let me tell you my heart has been throwing up all over the place. I’m realizing that this isn’t like other pains and hardships I’ve experienced in my life thus far. This is something that is life-long. I know the majority of the pain will be healed but it will always be there at some level – like a battle scar. There will always be baby showers, birthing stories, pregnant friends, and people who won’t understand. It feels like being suddenly cut off from a shared experience of 80% of the women I know.

Today is a good day. My heart is hopeful and my eyes are on Jesus. I know He knows and He cares. Scripture says He was, “a man of sorrows, acquainted with the deepest grief” (Is. 53:3). He is with me in this pain. He is actually the only One who can fully understand it. I’m clinging to truth about Him today. He is faithful. There are other days when clinging to truth doesn’t come so easy, but today, this is where I stand.



Embracing Grief. Embracing Healing.

cropped black-and-white-waves-close-up-view-circleThe past six months have been filled with loss, crisis, grief, and pain. To say the least, it has been a tough season to walk through.

I’ve experienced numerous losses over these months:

  • Leaving my Job of eight years in the fall – my first job out of college.
  • My Mom passing away at the end of February after a 20-year battle with illness.
  • Receiving the diagnosis of Infertility from my doctor after 4½ years of searching for answers.

The compounding of these losses have at times forced me to my knees in heart-wrenching tears. They’ve caused me to ask the tough questions of and about God. They have brought me to multiple days of deep sadness and lethargy and Netflix watching.

Each Loss involves grieving multiple additional losses: The loss of a Dream. Loss of a Voice. Loss of Community. It’s complicated. Messy.

I haven’t always known how to grieve well. When I was 15 my friend died in a house fire. I never shed a tear. Instead I told myself that I needed to be strong and go on with life for her – a very heroic sentiment – but it messed me up. I never allowed the tragedy and sadness of her death to touch my heart. It has taken me years to begin to learn how to grieve well. I am thankful that during this season God led my heart to choose to Embrace the Grief.

I’ve realized that if I don’t allow the painful emotions to hit my heart, it will be like a bone that never sets correctly. I have to walk through the process – every painful step – in order to come out more whole on the other side. I know I have to take the time to cry, to think, to share.

It has been 11 weeks since Mom passed. I know at some level I’ll be grieving her loss for the rest of my life. Not being able to have children who share our DNA is something that this mother’s heart may never be fully okay with. Tears come at unexpected times.

But I have Hope. I’m at a place now where I can see the benefit of embracing the pain and being brutally honest with God. The hard days are lessening and I’m starting to function again. I’m cleaning my house more often. I’m hanging out with friends. I’m going for walks. I’m not spending multiple days watching Netflix. Feelings of anxiety and fear and deep sadness are less frequent. All good steps forward.

Then I have a few bad days where I’ve never felt deeper sadness in my life. On some of those days all I can do is cry out for God to prove His faithfulness again. It’s hard to see a way forward on those days.

Even as I don’t know how long the Season of Grief will be, the Season of Healing has begun. I have the hope that in the end I will be more whole.

As I walk through this Season of Grief, God is birthing new dreams in my heart. I see the world from a deeper, more mature, perspective. I feel more whole than I did before the Season of Grief began. I know myself and God a little better than I did before. I trust God a little more than I did before. I have more compassion for others who are hurting than I did before. I have faith that God is going to Redeem the loss for myself and for others. I am trusting that He is faithful.

I am Embracing Healing.