Realization Part II

After my post the other day talking about infertility pain and my realization that my pain's intensity is so much lighter, I got some wonderful comments. I wanted to share and discuss a few of them.

Funky Monkey wrote:

I had a single friend recently tell me that so many of her friends have forgotten how hard it is to be single, when all you want is to be married. She feels very isolated and alone. Not just forgotten by all her married friends, but by God. Another faith crisis similar to the one infertility can cause.I understood exactly what she meant. And I think you do too.Please, let's not forget the pain of this journey. I don't want any woman's pain compounded by the fact that we've made them feel isolated or forgotten.

Funky, I cannot agree with you more. Honestly, my single friends and single people in general, especially women, sit so heavily on my heart. I know that they are grieving two dreams: the dream of a spouse and the dream of a child. I have watched friends go through this and it is so painful to watch. I feel almost selfish grieving for my own infertility when I am grieving it with JB sitting by me. I actually do feel selfish.

I also agree with you on a second level. We canNOT forget this pain. I realized how much I'll never be able to forget this yesterday when I was home by myself, working, and flipping channels. I stopped on a show on the Discovery Channel about a woman who had quints from infertility drugs. And I thought, "This looks interesting." One hour in, and my heart was in pain. I was feeling jealous, frustrated, and sad all over again. I realized that while my pain is at rest, it's still present, and can creep up at any time.

And you know what? I thought back to your comment. I don't think I want that to change. I am glad that the intense pain has subsided -- the pain that caused me to cry at a moment's notice and at the most inopportune times. The pain that forced me to leave church during that painful sermon where the pastor busted out a positive pregnancy test or avoid services on Mother's Day. But that slight pain, the pain that reminds me of what I went through and what so many women are still going through, and what people in general are going through that are struggling with grief (singleness, divorce, death, etc.) I don't want to forget that. Ever.

Laura wrote:

At some point, all of us struggle with something that tests us, removes us from living, and denies us hope. But anytime we get through it, it's not only important to acknowledge the pain of that event--it's also important to recognize what we've learned in the process. Not only does the experience provide empathy, but it also gives us perspective. Have you ever noticed that when you absolutely stop focusing on your struggle, your struggle is absolutely over? It wasn't until I was OK with being single that I found my spouse. It wasn't until I was OK with not having children that I found myself the parent of a beautiful baby girl. Sometimes I think our pain is so intense that we're not hearing God say, "It's OK. I'm here, and I have plans for you! Just be patient a little bit longer." I know in crisis I rarely, if ever, hear that voice. God had amazing plans for you all along. This is your time--embrace it and enjoy loving life!

This comment also ministered to me. I so agree Laura! If we can take the focus of our problem, the problem goes away. The question is, how do we do that when the storm is raging? It seems a bit easier when the clouds roll back. But while the clouds are there, smiling through the storm is the ultimate test of our faith. I pray that the next time I am faced with that sort of intense grief, I can reflect back on these four years and realize that the Lord will be faithful.

I had two prayers during these last years. My first prayer was obviously for our own biological child. That dream has not come true yet. But the other prayer was that that the Lord would take the pain away. That He would comfort me and make me "okay" with where we were. I still don't quite understand why things had to happen the way they have, but I am comforted even though I am not completely at peace.

Bri's mom, Joan, told me that whenever she tells people about Bri's decision to give her baby up for adoption, nearly all of them say, "Well if anything falls through with Wendi, I know someone." I keep thinking that Bri picked us! And a big reason she picked us was because we are still infertile. Would little XY still be joining our family if we already had a child or two of our own? Would Bri have picked someone else? I don't know. But I know, even though I haven't met him yet, that he belongs in our home. I am so glad Bri picked us. I'm so glad to get to be his parents. And if that meant going through infertility for him to call me "Mom" then okay. I'll do it. And I'm sure I'll be screaming that even louder after I meet the little guy!

And a friend from Hannah's Prayer wrote:

Your post brought tears to my eyes . . . Thank you for being an encouragement to those who are still grieving their infertility. It helps to know that healing is possible.

Friend, when I was going through the heat of my infertility, I met a woman through church. Her name was Kelly. I have my friend Ebby to thank for that. Christ Community Church, our church in Minnesota, sent a questionnarie to all the women of the church asking for our opinions about the women's ministry. I wrote about how I couldn't get involved because I felt left out. There were singles. There were young couples. There were couples with children. There were groups for divorced and elderly and abortion recovery and teenage pregnancy. Where was the group for me? Where was the group for us as a couple? I felt isolated. Ebby put me in touch with Kelly, another woman at the church going through infertility as well. Kelly was about ten years older than me. She and her husband still don't have children and made the decision not to adopt. But Kelly was at peace. And she promised me that I would find that peace if I held onto the Lord. Kelly was right.

Kelly and I met Roberta and the three of us helped start "Hearts like Hannah", a support group for women of the church and the community. It is still going on today. It was such a blessing to me.

I don't know your story friend. But yet, actually, I do know it. I know the pain and where your heart is. All I can tell you is to do as I did. Pray for your child. Pray for your dreams. And at the same time, ask the Lord to take the pain away. Ask Him to make you feel better. Ask Him to guide your steps, in his way, even if it isn't the way you have have in mind. The pain, for me, has not completely left. I still have moments, like yesterday as I watched this family go through infertility treatments and get the family of their dreams, that I am sad. But the sadness has eased up.

God promises that "joy cometh in the morning." And I can tell you that it does!

Thank you all for sharing your comments. You say my writing blesses you. But your comments bless me right back.