Everyone, even those not suffering with infertility, have had times they have pleaded with God or some higher being. We get desperate and reach out. This is usually in a time of dire need. I have had a few of these situations over the last 28 years:
1) Plane ride at the age of 9 that made me want to be baptized
2) My first car accident when I was 16
3) When my Nana passed away and I thought I'd die without her
4) My 7 seater plane ride from NYC to Albany, NY (I swore we were going down)
5) My first day of teaching (Scared out of my mind)
6) When my Gramma passed away and I was left grandparent-less
7) Choosing Jeremy (I wasn't sure at first-ha!)
8) Of course, infertility
Just some of the moments in life that I begged, pleaded, cried out, and leaned on my God. I beg and beg God for the right answers and the right path in life. And in these cases have asked him for the things I thought was best...not what He wanted. It is easy to ask, "Why didn't God answer my prayer the way I asked Him?" He surely heard me?
As I struggle with infertility (#8), I beg God to change our situation. I ask Him to allow us to conceive this month, not next month! We know this is the right time! We plead with Him to let this procedure work or to make this all just go away. What I sometimes don't understand is that He has a plan. He knows what He's doing, even when I think I do!
A great friend recently gave me a necklace. It is of a mustard seed. Of course accompanied with scripture from Matthew 17:20 "He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have
faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here
to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."
Faith is all I need. Faith that God's plan is in motion. I lived through that plane ride (#1) that caused me to draw closer to Him even at a young age. I survived my first car accident (#2) even though I shouldn't have left walking. I carry Nana and Gramma in my heart everyday even though I miss them both terribly (#3 & 6). Although a scary situation, I still survived my tiny plane ride and have great stories because of it (#4). I love my job and that first year of kids will always be in the back of my mind (#5). God led me to the right man for me (#7).
God’s ways were not my ways throughout my life. God’s thoughts were not my thoughts. Did that mean He didn’t love me or didn’t care? Did it mean that He didn’t understand how afraid I was or how desperately I wanted Him to answer my prayers? Did it mean He didn’t have a plan? Not at all. It simply meant that He had a plan that I didn’t see or understand yet. I’m so glad He knew what I needed more than I thought I knew what I needed for myself.
I am still waiting for God's answer to #8. But the best part is that I know He is working on it. He has never failed me and so if I only need faith of a mustard seed...get ready to move a mountain!
-Lisa-
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
My Rock
As a woman going through infertility, it is easy to get wrapped up into my own little world. I forget that others are hurting and suffering as well. This is especially true when it comes to my husband.
I am lucky to have been born a girl where it is socially acceptable to be emotional. I don't need the help of the hormone shots to be overly emotional because I am a sensitive person to begin with. However, men aren't raised with the same need to share feelings and just plain cry. Men are taught to be strong, supportive, and to hide their true feelings.
So when I cry and cry after each passing month without a baby, my husband is there to be strong for me. When I get angry that I am not pregnant but everyone else on the planet is expecting, my husband gives me hugs and reassurance. He doesn't cry or lose his mind like I do. Instead, he is the rock that brings me back to reality.
But he suffers too. It is easy to forget that he is also apart of this infertility struggle. I forget that his heart aches right along with mine. But looking back, I don't see an instance where I was able to be his rock. I have been taking all of this love and encouragement from him, but am I supporting him in return? Probably not.
Not too long ago, we found out that we are now officially the only married couple we hang out with that is without children or children on the way. Of course, it was tough for me even though I am so overjoyed that our friends are having babies. But what I didn't expect is how everything affects Jeremy. When talking about our situation with him, I found out that he is torn up inside just like me. I asked him why he never told me how he really felt. He responded, "I can't. I have to keep it together. I feel the same way you do but I have to be the strong one. If we were both freaking out, it would be bad. But I feel the same. I hurt too."
The men going through infertility have to suffer in silence while they take care of their other halves, just like Jeremy has been doing.
So, I am going to work on being supportive of my hubby. He feels the same feelings as I do. He hurts. He is frustrated. He is sad. Now, talking to Jeremy, you would never know. He keeps it together better than anyone. But he needs me to be his rock. This is my goal for us. We are in this together and with God's help will get through it together.
-Lisa-
I am lucky to have been born a girl where it is socially acceptable to be emotional. I don't need the help of the hormone shots to be overly emotional because I am a sensitive person to begin with. However, men aren't raised with the same need to share feelings and just plain cry. Men are taught to be strong, supportive, and to hide their true feelings.
So when I cry and cry after each passing month without a baby, my husband is there to be strong for me. When I get angry that I am not pregnant but everyone else on the planet is expecting, my husband gives me hugs and reassurance. He doesn't cry or lose his mind like I do. Instead, he is the rock that brings me back to reality.
But he suffers too. It is easy to forget that he is also apart of this infertility struggle. I forget that his heart aches right along with mine. But looking back, I don't see an instance where I was able to be his rock. I have been taking all of this love and encouragement from him, but am I supporting him in return? Probably not.
Not too long ago, we found out that we are now officially the only married couple we hang out with that is without children or children on the way. Of course, it was tough for me even though I am so overjoyed that our friends are having babies. But what I didn't expect is how everything affects Jeremy. When talking about our situation with him, I found out that he is torn up inside just like me. I asked him why he never told me how he really felt. He responded, "I can't. I have to keep it together. I feel the same way you do but I have to be the strong one. If we were both freaking out, it would be bad. But I feel the same. I hurt too."
The men going through infertility have to suffer in silence while they take care of their other halves, just like Jeremy has been doing.
So, I am going to work on being supportive of my hubby. He feels the same feelings as I do. He hurts. He is frustrated. He is sad. Now, talking to Jeremy, you would never know. He keeps it together better than anyone. But he needs me to be his rock. This is my goal for us. We are in this together and with God's help will get through it together.
-Lisa-
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
To Share or Not to Share
That phrase "impact" stuck with me. Those moments in life that steer you one way or another. Those moments where you realize something about yourself.
It gets me thinking about when I first realized that having a baby wouldn't be easy. I was sitting in my OBGYN's waiting room. We had tried naturally for a year and two months on Clomid. I was waiting for my exam and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke out in tears right there. I realized that this was going to be a longer journey than I had expected. But at that moment, I experienced an impact. Just like the many scenarios in The Vow.
An interesting thing happens when a woman realizes that she will have to fight to conceive a baby. Most of our choices are taken away with the diagnosis---or in my case a lack of a diagnosis. We may not get to decide how many children we will have, or if we will have them at all. We won't be able to choose how or when we will conceive. However, there are some choices we are able to make, and many must be dealt with at the very start of the baby battle. Here was the kicker for me:
Do we tell people we are having a problem, or do we keep it to ourselves??
Difficult decisions (or sometimes impact moments) must be covered in prayer, and the necessity of those prayers often feels overwhelming. The greatest support comes from the prayers of loving people who care about you, just like my readers of this blog--YOU!
However, for some people, self-disclosure is nauseating! At first, I didn't want anyone to know how desperate I was for a baby and how hard this battle really is. The issue of infertility was simply too private for me to share with anyone but Jeremy. I didn't want other people to look at me with pity when a new mother walked in the room with her baby. I couldn't tolerate the idea of the well-meaning people who would say hurtful things like: "Oh, you could always adopt!", or "Oh honey, you're young! You can always have another baby!" So I chose to keep my problem and despair to myself.
For me, the quiet pain was eating at my heart. God knew my pain and that gave me comfort. Studying the Word that He gave us showed multiple cases of infertility. Hannah and Sarah's stories stick out to me the most. Their stories were shared in the Bible for some reason. I know that infertility was apart of God's Word to help ease the despair of those of us that live in quiet pain.
So I spoke out. First, just with my closest friends and family. Then, with my coworkers. And now with the world through this blog. I can't even begin to tell you what joy and release comes to my heart every time I write on this blog.
I can't help but think that God set me on this journey for a greater purpose. If that purpose is to share my story and words with others, then I shall do it. If that purpose is to give someone else support and comfort as they suffer with quiet pain, then I will bear it.
-Lisa-
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