As I sit on my patio this morning enjoying my coffee while the cool breeze of Fall blows around me, I realize – another year has come and gone. Our arms are still empty and aching, but our hearts – those are full. Life certainly has a way of never going just the way you planned it. Oftentimes, that’s a good thing. Other times? It can leave you wondering & imagining a million reasons why.
Friday, September the 6th, our 3rd IUI failed. I remember just a day before feeling that maybe, JUST maybe, it had actually worked! I even did something I don’t do after feeling the loss of miscarriage – I told a friend that I was hopeful. When, once again, that red flagged waved and a visitor I have grown to resent wholeheartedly came to town, I broke – again. I felt like my body had betrayed me, and my feelings had been in on it this time. Such a roller coaster, this journey of infertility. Very high high’s and extremely low low’s… often felt in the same moment. There’s no way to perfectly describe it to anyone that hasn’t been there and it’s nothing you want anyone TO understand. As I messaged back and forth with my husband about the tears that wouldn’t stop and the pain that spilled over no matter how hard I fought, I told him I was tired. Tired of trying. Tired of hurting him, tired of hurting me, tired of hurting everyone we loved. But I told him that even with how bad it hurt, I didn’t want to give up. His loving, patient response was that maybe it was time to “go a different way.” He told me that while he knew I wanted to be pregnant that maybe there was a child out there that needed US.
My husband is one of the biggest blessings in my life. I know I don’t say it enough. My sister and I were talking the other day about how the way we were raised has affected us and our marriages. Affection, touch – those things weren’t abundant to us as children. Not because our parents didn’t love us – of that there’s no doubt – but I think sometimes the rational need to provide overtakes the parental desire to nurture.
When I first met my husband, to say I didn’t like him is putting it mildly! I still recall a specific situation at work that drove me straight into the store manager’s office to tell them that I thought he should be fired. Being delicate is NOT my husband’s forte. Many tears have been shed as a result of my husband voicing his opinion – including mine. People thought I was CRAZY for dating – and then marrying – him. Ever wonder why someone is digging for gold in that rocky, dark, damp place? It’s because they just KNOW that if they spend enough time and dig deep enough, that an AMAZING treasure is going to be found. That’s my husband. He still surprises me almost every day. The support I get from him through this is unmatched. He’s my rock. I can see how badly this hurts him also… because I’m hurting and because I think he’s realized how much he wants it also. We’ve both learned so much through all of this, but what I’ve learned is that the people with the toughest exterior, usually have the softest interior – it’s just a matter of getting to it.
My husband and I have decided that we are going to begin looking in to – and embarking on – the adoption journey. In my search of things to keep my mind occupied – since this is the first month in a few that I’ve not had Dr’s appts & ultrasounds & pills & injections – I went to the Christian bookstore and began searching out books about adoption and infertility. A friend that works at Lifeway helped me find a book titled “Dear God, Why Can’t I Have a Baby?”. As I was reading through the Foreword by Drew Cline, a Christian Recording Artist, he gives his “Testimony of Hope” in reliving their infertility journey and at one point (after two failed attempts at IUI) says to his wife – ” ‘This should be done at home where we can love on each other in the privacy of our own home and marriage, not in some clinical test tube. Does God not think we’ll make good parents?’ To which my precious wife responded, ‘It takes more love to walk through this process, more sacrifice, more commitment.’ ” So. Much. Truth. I’m trying to get through this book. There is so much awesome stuff in it, but I seem to have trouble seeing the words as I read it.
Yesterday, I had a painful procedure done that crossed one more thing off the list of “Reasons Why We Can’t Have a Baby.” It’s nice to be able to eliminate reasons, but that just means we get one step closer to not having any reasons. I’ve resolved myself to give up the right to understand on a daily basis. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it many more times I’m sure, but it so perfectly describes everything in just two short words – God knows. God knows if we are ever going to have a baby that will look at me through my husband’s eyes. God knows if we will ever have a baby that will fulfill my mother’s curse of “having a daughter just like me.” God knows if we will adopt a baby that needed US as parents. God knows if we are going to have empty cribs but full memory banks. God knows. And while I’ve said that’s enough for me, I’m learning to let it be MORE than enough.