There's no other way to say it. It's a complete and total bitch. It's been a little over 3 years now since I've been off birth control and we started talking about a baby. I hate even admitting its been that long. It's the constant elephant in the room and why my blogging has cut back so much. I don't think anyone can truly understand how painful and isolating infertility can be unless they themselves have been through it. There's not a single day that goes by that I'm not reminded of my inadequacy as a woman. With every month that passes, I'm often left wondering what my purpose here on earth is.
My one Christmas wish this year was two pink lines. Today I got my period. I wanted so badly to make this the best Christmas for Jason and I yet. I had to take down all my friends Christmas cards off the fridge because its too painful to see all my friends and they're growing families during this holiday season. I must be masochistic because I'm compulsively checking Facebook and seeing Santa pictures with ruffled dresses and little bowties.
I so wish I could see the forest for the trees right now. Instead I see my next refilled prescription of my fourth round of Clomid sitting on my nightstand.
My friends try to support and encourage me, and don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the support, but at the same time I resent the pity. It's as if I don't realize that when friends are talking about life with their new little ones and then turn to ask about our new puppy, I don't realize what they're doing. I get it. Shoot, why do you think I wanted a puppy? We're doing our best to distract ourselves, "not stress" and "have fun with it" - but seriously when you're so hopped up on expensive hormones, taking temps every day, scheduling blood tests and peeing on an endless amount of test sticks to check your ovulation, how can you NOT think about it? I swear if one more person tells me that if I "adopt a baby then I'll end up pregnant, cause it happens to people all the time", I'll hit them. I don't want an adopted baby to feel like our Plan B. And neither one of us is quite ready for that yet.
There are many brave women out there that blog about this unspoken & taboo topic. They're women that have unknowingly encouraged me and made me feel less alone. I want my blog to be that for someone else, instead of only showing how perfect and fun our lives seem to appear all the time. To be honest it's been very hard and difficult on Jason and I. I often wonder what I did to deserve someone who has put up with so much over the last 7 years. I'm tired of pretending that its all sunshine and rainbows. I want to be real so that this blog can be an outlet for my real thoughts and emotions while on this journey of infertility. I'm not trying to air out my dirty laundry or expose anyone, but I'm too candid and honest of a person to put on a facade any longer.
If you feel like these blog entries get too negative at times, then please feel free to read elsewhere. I'm not blogging for anyone's entertainment, but for my own sanity.
Ahhhh... I actually do feel much better now.
Streams In The Desert - December 22
"A thick and dreadful darkness came over him." Genesis 15:12
In this Scripture passage, the sun had finally gone down, and the eastern night had swiftly cast its heavy veil over the entire scene. Worn out by the mental conflict, and the exertion and the cares of the day, Abraham "fell into a deep sleep". During his sleep, his soul was oppressed with "a thick and dreadful darkness," which seemed to smother him and felt like a nightmare in his heart.
Do you have an understanding of the horror of that kind of darkness? Have you ever experienced a terrible sorrow that seems difficult to reconcile with God's perfect love - a sorrow that comes crashing down upon you, wrings from your soul its peaceful rest in the grace of God, and casts it into a sea of darkness that is unlit by even one ray of hope? Have you ever experienced a sorrow caused by unkindness, when others cruelly mistreat your trusting heart, and you even begin to wonder if there is really a God above who sees what is happening yet continues to allow it? If you know this kind of sorrow, then you know something of this "thick and dreadful darkness."
Human life is made of brightness and gloom, shadows and sunshine, and dark clouds followed by brilliant rays of light. Yet through it all, God's divine justice is accomplishing His plan, affecting and disciplining each individual soul.
Dear friend, if you are filled with fear of the "thick and dreadful darkness" because of God's dealings with humankind, learn to trust His infallible wisdom, for it is equal to His unchanging justice. And know that He who endured the "dreadful darkness" of Calvary and the feeling of having been forsaken on the cross is ready to accompany you "through the valley of the shadow of death" until you can see the sun shining on the other side.
May we realize that "we have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" and that "it enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain". And may we know that although it is unseen within His sanctuary, our anchor will be grounded and will never yield. It will hold firm until the day He returns, and then we too will follow it into the safe haven guaranteed to us in God's unchangeable Word - F.B. Meyer
The disciples thought that the angry sea separated them from Jesus. In fact, some of them thought something even worse - they thought that the trouble they were facing was a sign that He had forgotten them and did not care about them.
O dear friend, that is when your troubles can cause the most harm. The devil comes and whispers to you, "God has forgotten you" or "God has forsaken you," and your unbelieving heart cries out, as Gideon once did, "If the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us?" (Judges 6:13). God has allowed the difficulty to come upon you, in order to bring you closer to Himself. It has come not to separate you from Jesus but to cause you to cling to Him more faithfully, more firmly, and more simply. F.S. Webster
We should abandon ourselves to God more fully at those times when He seems to have abandoned us. Let us enjoy His light and comfort when it is His pleasure to give it to us, but may we not attach ourselves to His gifts. May we instead attach ourselves to Him, and when He plunges us into the night, where pure faith is required, may we still press on through the agonizing darkness.