Thursday, April 24, 2014


It's a Saturday morning, and it's my birthday. And I wake up so excited to jump out of bed, because it's the day that I will hopefully get the best birthday present ever: the news that our next child is on his/her way. I bound out of bed, so much anticipation in every step. My cycle is seven days late, and with every fiber of my being, I expect to see a positive result.

I walk out, and I am crushed. Another month, another negative test. Infertility has won again. All I want to do is go back to bed, curl up, and forget. Forget what it's like to want children. Forget how much the negative tests hurt. Forget that infertility is a part of my life. I want to just stop this crazy rollercoaster ride of emotions and pretend like I don't care any more.

But I can't. It does hurt. I hate hoping and getting disappointed, over and over and over again.

And then the questions come.

"Do you want more children?"

"When are you having another one?"

"Don't you think Selah would like a brother or sister?"

I wish they knew how much the questions hurt. How much they remind me over and over of the pain that I am desperately trying to block out, trying to exist in spite of. I wish I could find some words that would make the questions stop, to somehow explain that they are some of the most difficult words anyone could ever say to me.

But I have no answers. I have no words to explain the deep pain in my heart - the hole that I cannot fill. And I am empty and broken and left wondering if things will ever change.

All I can do is hold on to hope that maybe, someday, things will be different. But for now, this is my reality.


  1. Oh sis, I can't say I know your pain, but I feel for you because you are my sister and my friend, and I love you. I am adding this as a regular prayer point to our family's prayer cards. I can't even imagine how difficult life is dealing with infertility. I love you and am sending big hugs your way. xoxo Bethany

  2. Hi! You don't know me, but I've walked in your shoes. Took my husband and me 5 years to have a baby. Thought for sure the "floodgates" would open and more babies would follow. Here we are....8 years later....over 40.....still nothing! I have had those same thoughts and feelings. Done countless ovulation prediction kits. Timed everything just perfectly. Seen the negative pregnancy tests. It's discouraging. Heartwrenching. I loved being pregnant. I loved nursing. I love, love, love being a Mom. But you have to realize that God is in control and that He knows best, as hard as it is to accept. I don't understand why we have had so many problems getting pregnant, but I know it's God's plan for our lives. The path he has led us down now is foster care with hopes of adoption, and he has given us two lively, crazy, (sometimes very difficult) boys! We still have hopes of getting pregnant, but I have learned (through time) to not get caught up in thinking about it constantly. Prayers and hopes of a brighter tomorrow for you!

    1. Thank you Annette! It's nice to know I'm not alone in this journey. I am still struggling sometimes (especially right now), but I'm trying to hang on to my Abba and let His plan unfold in my life - however that looks.

  3. I don't know if my words will encourage as they are meant. I hope they will. :)

    I know what it is like to live every day with dreams unfulfilled. I know the pain of longing and disappointment, of finding solace in Christ only to wake up to the poignancy of grief when you least expect it. I feel for anyone who goes through these things.

    I blogged about it earlier this year, as I'm turning 30 next winter, and my age is weighing heavily on me. Despite my childhood dreams of a large family, I'm still single at 30 (despite all the prayer, waiting on God, and doing "Christian approved" things to "help" it happen). I have not even the hope of getting pregnant each month, nor do I have the comfort of one child.

    I'm not trying to devalue what you are going through -- just, perhaps, offer a glimpse from the outside. :) I don't assume your life is perfect (no one's is in this broken world), but I see how blessed you are to have a husband and a little girl.

    But then -- perhaps in your shoes I would feel the same way. Perhaps our griefs find us, no matter our situation. Perhaps God puts them there.

    I was comforted today by an author who suggested that God allows emptiness and longing repeatedly in this life so that we would always live in anticipation of Heaven -- that we would never be satisfied with His blessings lest we lose our hunger for God Himself. The author pointed out, is it not the hungry who search of sustenance? It is the filled who grow complacent.

    I can't know that God will ever provide me with a husband and children. You can't know if he will ever give you another child. But we both can rest that He always offers us the best of blessings -- His very Self. Not fully in this life; we must rest in the glimpses we make out through the glass dimly. But he promises someday to wipe away every tear.

    How meager that true comfort feels on a broken heart. Someday feels like forever from now. But I do believe He has a plan for this life, and that He is directing our paths -- not for our comfort, but for His glory. He gives each of us our own works he prepared beforehand for us to accomplish. I can't say I don't often wish He would have prepared me the work of a wife and mother, but I am thankful for the life He is leading me through (which, it appears, will include seminary in the near future). And, for myself, while it is true he has shattered many of my dreams, I believe He is truly giving me the deepest desires of my heart.

    I pray He will comfort you with the knowledge of the good He is doing in your life and will do through this current brokenness. :)