Infertility

I’ve been thinking a lot about infertility. 

You might read that and think it’s strange that I’m focusing on a part of my life that’s seemingly over, but let me be the first to say…..it’s not.  Infertility will always be a part of me.  And our journey, while on a hiatus for a couple years, is far from over.  We have four more babies in the frozen nursery at OHSU, and we'll go back for each one. 

Last night we were talking with some dear friends about our journey through infertility, and as Adam and I were sharing our story, I found myself stuck in a God-moment.  The moment struck me shortly after Adam talked about his own journey through fear, to faith, to God, and ultimately to a saving knowledge of his Savior and a baptism.  We talked about the people God placed in our lives, the fellowship He brought us, and the constant assurances He revealed to our hearts.  Now we’ve come full circle, and I can’t describe it any other way than to say it was an absolute wow God moment. 

I look at myself today and I almost don’t recognize the person looking back at me.  And that’s a good thing.  I’m different that I was; God has drawn me into Him, He has changed my heart and grown in me the fruits of obedience and trust.  He has revealed His faithfulness to me.  He has wiped away every tear and heard every cry.  I know and feel—from the deepest parts of my soul—His love in a way I have never known it before.   I’m wholly in love with my Savior, and my desire to serve Him and to honor Him consumes me.  I see the change in myself, in my husband, and it brings me to my knees.  God knew. From the beginning of time, He had the plan for my family, and He knew during every dark day what the future would look like.  He knew that there would come a day when I would carry our child in my womb.  He knew.  And all He asked was for me to trust.  I held a Polaroid that I was constantly analyzing from different angles, trying to make the picture change somehow, and all the while God held the panoramic view, and He was saying  just wait. 

And I feel privileged.  I am honored and humbled that God has given me, given us, this difficult road to walk.  Because who I am is not who I was.  And I don’t want to ever go back. 

So this leads me to the reason for this post.  I’ve been feeling a tug on my heart for a while now, and I think maybe if I put my thoughts into words I’m gain some clarity.

I’ve been thinking and praying about starting an infertility ministry.  

I know, for me, infertility was a very difficult thing to talk about with anyone (you might not know that from my blog, but keep in mind I started this a good 8 months into our story).  It felt taboo.  Talking to other women about my inability to bear a child gave me a profound sense of inadequacy.  It was uncomfortable—for me, and for them.  And if we’re being honest, if you haven’t experienced the heartache of not being able to have children, it’s hard to relate.  Of course it is.  That’s true with so many of life’s trials. 

I found an incredible support network through the blogging world, and I know I’m not the only one.  I’ve met so many amazing women—some of you are probably reading this right now—through this blog.  I’ve made friends (literally) around the world and become so inter-connected in the lives of these women I’ve never met.  I’ve read their stories, prayed for their own journeys, and felt the blessing of fellowship with these women walking this same difficult road. 

But it was still hard.  It’s hard to go through your everyday life missing that same support network. It’s hard to go to coffee with a friend and feel awkward for bringing up infertility when she asked the what’s new with you question.  It’s hard to contain the urge to knock over your coworker in a bear hug when you receive news that the Clomid worked this month and you’ll ovulate.  It’s hard because infertility will take over your life if you let it, and nobody really knows how to make that better. 

I was sitting in church the other day reading about the variety of outreatch/support groups they offered for (quite literally) just about everything; recovering from abortion, addiction, single moms, divorced families, blended families, etc. etc.  And I couldn’t help but wonder infertility wasn’t on that list.  It’s so often overlooked—so many women suffer alone, feel alone, when in reality they are so far from it. 

So that leads me to here.  I don’t know exactly where God is calling me to take this, or what an infertility ministry might look like, but I do know its purpose.  To offer hope, give encouragement, and ultimately, to offer meaning through the One who placed our feet on this difficult path.  I believe God chooses people to walk the road of infertility not to punish, but to reward.  I know this because I have experienced it.  For reasons we can’t always understand, God has placed us all on this road….so why not walk it together?

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And so I ask you: are you walking the road of infertility?  If you are, I want to pray for you.  I want to come alongside you in this journey.  I want you to know you’re not alone.  There is a purpose, a plan greater than you could ever imagine, for every step of this journey.  There is a God who loves you, knows your every tear and longs to wipe them away.  I know the road you walk—the potholes, the pain, the hurt and fear—but I also know the joy.  It’s there.  Let’s find it together.