Tonight I just wanted to ask you all... How are you this week? Where are you inside of Trying today? We would love to hear from you in the comments on the blog or our FB or Insta pages. We want to know how we can pray, support, encourage.
I am going to be very transparent and say that I'm entering into a new phase. After 7 years and several fertility specialists, we are about to do a few rounds of IUI for the first time. I started taking the pills on Sunday morning.
It's strange entering back into the world of actively Trying with a specialist after what I felt like was fully giving up and accepting the "never" that seemed to be (and still might be) my forever reality. We arrived at that place two years ago partially because of finances, partially because I was so fatigued by the first 5 years of Trying, and partially because with two foster babies in my home, all I could think about was sleep.
But here we are again, trying to make a human. We had our initial appointments last month and got the ok to start IUI this week. It's weird how different it feels sitting in that waiting room now than it did just a two years ago. I kept feeling shocked and like I was missing something when I realized that I didn't have such an intense sense of pressure anymore.
As much as I cognitively understood that this isn't and can't be up to me to achieve, I felt so much more responsible than that. I felt the weight of every fiber of hope for the outcome of my life was in that waiting room with me, jabbing me in the ribs. This time I feel mysteriously hands-off. I just have to do what the Dr. says and the rest is not up to me.
I'm an over-thinker and live with a steady and sometimes overwhelming amount of anxiety about everything in life, so It's COMPLETELY foreign to feel that way! It makes me realize that I couldn't have talked myself into this place years before when I went to the first four specialists. I'm even more certain now that what is hard is hard and there is no shame in it. I don't believe you can talk yourself out of the depth of hurt you chronically feel inside of infertility or be more spiritual than it.
I have a dear friend in the same fertility schedule as me. If she doesn't get pregnant this month, she starts 3 rounds of IUI next month, too. It's her first year of trying and it's excruciating at this point for her. She's going through the intense emotions of waiting followed by disappoint month after month. It's sooooo hard to see her go through this. I feel like it's been magnified for her because she already went through it with me and held my hand while I cried my years and buckets of tears.
But watching her is actually helping me understand more fully that this other place of peace I somehow find myself in during our IUI attempt has nothing to do with spiritual maturity. At all. Because this friend is WAY more mature than me and always has been. It's helping me to realize again that the sadness, angst, and fear experienced when Trying becomes an infertility label is SO REAL. I don't think you can skip past it or be more mature than grief.
My guilt complex was always trying to tell me that if I was just mature, I wouldn't feel these things. It's simply not true. Even the most spiritual woman among us cannot bypass feelings of ache or loss in life. We watch as our expectations are shattered and our life seems to stand still while everyone else's keeps spinning. We walk, crawl, grasp, beg, plead, bargain, pray, and somehow keep going.
And when it hurts most, we take steps to draw the Lord into the moment, whether it involves questions, cursing, tears, accusations, or begging for comfort. And as we draw Him into our most severe places of pain, our need for Him still proclaims that He is the author of life and that we're dependent entirely upon Him. Even in the ugliest of moments, when we cry to Him it is still an acknowledgment that He is God.
I remember singing the song "Good Good Father" at church so many times in the hardest months of infertility. It felt like such an act of sacrifice to sing it after just having come from the bathroom to change a tampon BECAUSE I WASN'T PREGNANT. Those moments were angry, ugly, sorrowful, submissive and everything else, day after day after day. And yet, He is taking the shattered pieces and He is building a mountain.
So here we are: Trying again, throwing money at doctors and driving Houston traffic at inconvenient times. Yet I am so very thankful that this prayer of "should we?" has been answered and we now have this opportunity.
So where are you this week? How are you feeling today? Are you trying to figure out what's next? Just know you are not alone. This fellowship of suffering has produced such beautiful and needed encouragement, empathy, and understanding for me. I hope it has for you. Love you all.