The Truths In Infertility

I've literally spent years learning how to be a barren woman.   

     It sounds strange doesn't it? Like I had to go to school and stumble through a bachelors degree in infertility and years later I'm still working on my masters in barren-hood. Obviously I started by majoring in motherhood but somehow flunked out and realized that my credits could transfer so I'm here just trying to survive finals. 

     Did I take the analogy too far? It was just to show you that this is a process, a process that does require learning new things, and re-learning old things. A process that forces you to re-evaluate where you thought you were going and makes you change your behavior to be successful. 

     I tend to be upfront and possibly a tad blunt when it comes to infertility. Why are we so secretive about such a defining part of our lives? If my leg was amputated I wouldn't be constantly hiding it under a blanket after I've healed. Trying to not bring up the fact that I can't walk the same anymore. I've had to learn to walk again! It might make someone uncomfortable, but it's true and it's blazingly obvious.

   My husband and I have dealt with different stages of infertility...  

 Before we conceived our son: 

     It was all new, hard, unending, but hopeful. Never did it seem to be a constant thing. I felt like we always knew things would change. One day there would be two pink lines and a tiny redhead in our arms.  During that time we learned patience. Sure we dealt with jealousy of others and their sweet babes, but those feelings were weak and easily overcome by hope and peace. It was our time of naivety and blissful hope. I always say that it was the time the Lord prepared us for the much rougher road ahead. I am ever thankful that we had somewhat prepared hearts. 

 It was the time for gentle truths.   

 After our son died: 

     The infertility we dealt with then was...powerful. My heart was boldly convinced that God would not leave us without children in this world. I was so sure that, having dealt with Kimber's death graciously, we were going to welcome a new baby before Kimber's birthday. After all, hadn't we already put in years of infertility? The time spent there was achingly painful. Wounds that hadn't healed, throbbed in pain and still freshly bled. Another nail in the coffin, kicking us while we were down, adding insult to injury, all that jazz.  God was reminding us that He makes the plans, not us. He was grieving with us and shepherding us into our new roles as parents to a dead baby. He was reminding us of who He is and the realities of loss and faith.

It was the time for harsh truths.     

Two years ago: 

    We've literally spent years asking God for the same thing and in His infinite wisdom He has denied us that. We have spent years longing and waiting for this "one thing" and have been met with resounding "No"s across the board. We've explored every byway and roundabout and have met roadblocks and collapsed bridges. We've spent our fair share of time in doubt and wonderings. We've offered up compromises and dreams. We stumbled around just trying to figure out how we still fit into the world.

It was the time for subtle truths.  

   The last year until now: 

     Infertility is not longer a battle we wage against. It has now become a part of who we are. It has shaped our relationship with each other and with God. The process of letting go and moving forward has been slow but God has met us every step of the way. With every step He has asked us to take we've obeyed and have been met with resounding peace and hope. Hope in the true nature of our Father. We have the truth that this life is not the end, and that the purpose of this life is not for our dreams. We've moved passed our own desires and have embraced His. We may not know every step but we know the one in front of us, and we take it. The prayer "Your will be done" resounds in our hearts and home, it has become our anthem song. In times of grief we know He "remembers the barren". The longing in our hearts may never cease, but we choose to not let it define us. It has been replaced by the truths of a good and perfect Father.    

 Now is the time for His fulfilling truths.