God doesn’t love me.
What have I done to deserve this?
There is no hope.
What is the point?
Why would a God that can do anything, keep me from becoming a mother?
Why them and not me?
All these; thoughts and questions that have run through my head within the past month. Why is it so hard for me to keep perspective? It is so tough to stay positive in a world where so many bad things happen to so many people. How can I profess that He is good when I’m surrounded by so much ugly?
Time is billowing forward. The sunflowers folded over with the weight of their beauty. A single maple tree burns crimson and the sun sneaks to bed a little earlier every night. Fall is just a couple cold mornings away. It seems everything is mockingly counting down the days until November. I miss Oliver. I think about him everyday. And it’s easy to listen to the devils voice. To become bitter. Angry. Resentful. But this isn’t what God wants for me. He wants me to count it all joy (James 1:2) and give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:18). But how is that possible?
I have run the whole gamut of emotions and found that living in fear, doubt, self-pity… that’s no way to live. It’s true, dealing with infertility, focusing so much on what I do not have, can easily become my idol. It is a constant worry.
Am I eating right? Drinking right? Taking the right vitamins? Am I lifting too much? Stressed too much?
And soon it’s all consuming and everything I do, say, think about brings me back to childless. Emptiness. But how can I call myself a Christian and be empty? Galatians 2:20 “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Christ lives in me and is with me. Why do I so easily forget?
And then, why would He still want me? I’ve been so unworthy. Always forgetting. Never having eyes to see all the ways He loves me. Pursues me. He is always there, and always has been. I can’t live a life being full of God and emptied with fear. For God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). He has given me a sound mind. He has given me the ability to choose to be happy. To choose to see good. To choose to wake up everyday knowing that God has me, holds me here in this moment and that it won’t be wasted. And that is enough.
One of the recent devotionals from DVO that might lift you up:
|Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Lam 3:21-22 (NLT)|
|HOPE SERIES – PART 4|
|Lamentations is a book of mourning written by Jeremiah, whose warnings to his country went largely ignored. He prophesied to and encouraged his countrymen for years to return to God and worship. But their response was just more wayward living, and the results of that were starting to leak through the cracks of the nation.Here he writes about the heartache of abandonment – 3:1 “I am the one who has seen the afflictions that come from the rod of the Lord’s anger. He has led me into darkness, shutting out all light. He has turned his hand against me again and again, all day long.”Jeremiah was a prophet and poet, and I can imagine he felt everything deeply. It’s though the book of Lamentations was more like a journal for him, rather than a book for public reflection. We’re getting an insight into what he was going through. And he was in a dark place.Sometimes it can feel and look as though we have been shut out by God, abandoned, forgotten… or that God is against us, punishing us, and we are left surrounded by darkness with no way out… Jeremiah says in V18 “My strength and my hope Have perished from the Lord.”I’ve had those moments, and I know you have too, where in the midst of despair a raw and guttural cry from the depths of your soul arises… This is what was happening with Jeremiah.Let it arise, let those feelings come up…and then let them leave. Breathe them out, expel them from your heart. Because the truth is that no matter what it looks or feels like, God is still here, Jesus is still risen.
There is still HOPE.
His faithful love never ends – that gritty whisper that God has left you is a lie.
Breathe out the heartache, and breathe in hope… rise in it and be confident that your HOPE, JESUS, has love and mercy for you that is endless. Hope will pick you up and carry you beyond the moments of despair into days of peace.
This post is several weeks in the writing but several years in the making. It’s full of things I have learned through our years of infertility as well as recently loosing Oliver. I have learned so much about myself and the words that come out of my mouth. I have vowed I would never say certain things ever again because I know what it felt like when they were said to me. Most of the time it was just through strangers making small talk but other times it was from people who were close to me who just didn’t realize the weight of their words or actions. It is such a weird place to live. I wanted people to care about my feelings but I also didn’t want to be singled out and treated differently. I don’t want people to feel like they can’t bring their children around me or boast about the cute things their children do or say. I love children. I love their wonderment and sense of adventure. Their innocence and the way they love. I don’t want to be kept from their lives just because I don’t have a child of my own. But there are some things and certain words that are more sensitive than others. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned:
The question. It would be amazing the random strangers that would ask me “so do you have children” and it would be completely out of the blue. Like checking out at a store and I obviously was not buying diapers. The waitress while Nick and I were out to eat. The lady at the post office. A gentleman on the beaches of Jamaica. At times it would be laughable how satan would use so many random people to ask me that question. The best of days would come to a screeching hault. Of course there were times I wanted to scream, “NO, ACTUALLY WE DON’T!”. But every time I politely said “no” and changed the subject, my hope faded. Ever since, I have vowed never EVER to ask someone that question. There are so many other subjects of conversation and ways to show interest in someone else’s life. Sometimes having children isn’t easy. It’s not just the next step after someone gets married. A baby in a baby carriage is not always the obvious result of two people k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree. God made each one of us unique with our our own interests and talents and we all have a lot to share if we would ask the right questions.
Holidays. These are some of my worst days. Watching others opening Christmas presents with their children, taking cute Easter bunny pictures, or celebrating first, second and third birthdays. It’s not that I am jealous, although satan does like to throw those thoughts into my mind. It is the hardest because it is a reminder of the years that have gone by and the empty womb I am carrying. Each holiday, I think, by next Christmas I could be celebrating baby’s first Christmas. Until next Christmas comes along and I’m not even pregnant. Holidays become a reminder of what hasn’t happened for us. The real bummer is that I absolutely LOVE holidays and getting together with family and friends. So it’s a constant battle of the mind, to keep my focus on what I do have and not dwell on the one thing I don’t. God has given me so much to be grateful for.
Elephant in the room. One week, one year. It doesn’t matter the length of time after someone looses a child. It’s been almost two months after my miscarriage. Yes, the pain does subside… but it’s still there. And probably always will be. It won’t always be this raw but I will never forget the child God created for us to carry for 12 weeks. For me, I would much rather have my close friends and family ask me how I’m doing than dance around the subject. Yes, it’s probably an uncomfortable conversation but it is nice to know that other people care. That you are still in their “thoughts and prayers” like they said you would be. This doesn’t mean that it is the only thing you have to talk about but to know that a child is not forgotten is one of the best feelings in the world. I truly believe I will see Oliver again someday so, for me, he is and was very very real.
Joking Aside. Here’s the scene. Your children are screaming their heads off, your frantically trying to calm them down and catch your breath. Never, ever, ask someone dealing with infertility “are you SURE you want kids?!” “You can have mine”. This is not funny nor a joke. Because in all honestly, yes, I would love to take your screaming child off your hands for you. All the terrible two, snotty noses in the world couldn’t change my mind. Please remember that words can hurt, even if unintentional. I cringe at the thought of how many people I have unintentionally hurt with the words I’ve said. I know that now, and try to honestly filter the words I say to people. Do I really mean what I am saying? How is this going to help them? Psalm 19:14 “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”
At Least: Along with the last point, I have learned not to try to make someone feel better or smooth it over by saying the words “at least”. At least you know you CAN get pregnant. At least you can try again. At least you have a child. At least. I’m convinced that some of the most comforting things that were said to me were “I’m here for you”. I even had a friend tell me that if she wasn’t there for me like I needed her to be to just tell her, and she would try her hardest to be. That meant THE WORLD to me. Pure, unconditional love. No one knows the suffering someone else is going through. I’m going to try my hardest never to compare my heartaches to that of someone else’s. We all will deal with our own trials in this life. Everyone has some sort of hurt. But no matter what we are going through we all have this in common; He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18).
I’m sure my list of things I’ve learned could go on and on but this is it for now. I know that throwing my personal feelings out on the world wide web is risky and very public but I do hope that maybe we all would think a few seconds more before blurting out the first thought in our head. To take time to actually process through someone else’s hurt before trying to fix it. To just give a hug instead of our advice. To love like He loves.
I have an app on my phone of daily devotionals. This one from yesterday was too good not to share. The app is called DVO and you can download it here.
|“The Lord God is my Strength, my personal bravery, and my invincible army; He makes my feet like hinds’ feet and will make me to walk not to stand still in terror, but to walk and make spiritual progress upon my high places of trouble, suffering, or responsibility!|
|Hab 3:19 (Amp)|
|This verse is very dear to me. About 4 years ago, my family went through a very difficult experience… We were left torn, heartbroken and empty. I had no idea how to move forward from it, how to rebuild my life and my confidence; I remember being filled with fear and uncertainty. I turned to the bible and started to read… but nothing seemed to be ‘getting in’… It was like the words on the page were as empty as I was.Until I found this scripture.|
It lifted off the page and filled my heart and mind with hope.
He is your strength. It’s OK if you feel weak. It’s OK to go through seasons of vulnerability. It’s OK to be frail in heart and spirit. IT IS NOT FAILURE! And it happens to us all. It’s OK, because GOD IS OUR STRENGTH.
2 Cor 12:9 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
Some of us, perhaps most of us, are embarrassed by our weaknesses and seasons of hardship… But in those seasons, no matter how we get there, the important thing is NOT to cover up the pain or shroud ourselves in embarrassment, but allow God to be our strength. Open up to him, lean on Him, depend on Him…
He is your personal bravery… Not someone else’s or the crowds… yours. He will help you be brave and will lift your head high so that you can face tomorrow assured of His love and strength. He is your invincible army – unshakable, indestructible… Consistent, strong, true… Nothing can separate you from His love.
There’s an old English proverb that says “a smooth sea never made a skilful sailor.” Embrace your season of hardship, don’t be embarrassed or defeated by it… You can get through it; He is your strength, and there is always HOPE.”
June 16 – DVO
Can it really be June? A month has almost already passed by? These past couple weeks have not been my best. I think I hit the “anger” part of grieving. I am mad. I feel so very cheated. I feel like life is moving on but there is a part of me refusing to budge. I think the hardest part for me right now is realizing how far along I would be and how much more Oliver would have grown. I see and am going through events that I should have been pregnant for. And then I feel so empty. Like I literally left a part of myself there at the hospital.
Last week was my follow up appointment after my D&C. Some of you may know that I am not very impressed with my OBGYN. I guess through all of this I have realized I need a new doctor and to really find someone who cares for me (or at the very least knows my name) and our baby. At our appointment, she didn’t really have much to say. I do understand that there really isn’t any way of knowing why something like this would happen. But she did say something that made an impact on me. That over 50% of women have dealt with at least one miscarriage and a lot of those have gone on to have several more. ANOTHER MISCARRIAGE? I honestly don’t know how to get over just one… how do you go through this over and over? It made me really stop and think. To look past myself and my own hurts and see a world of grieving mothers just like me. Parents that never got to hold their child, just like us. Empty cribs put back into storage just like ours.
Since my first post I have been contacted by so many women. Women who have had miscarriages. Some dealing with infertility. Some even with stillbirths. It was heart wrenching to hear but it did, in some ways, comfort me to know that I wasn’t alone and that everything I have gone through someone else has and then some. That there is life after all of this and that even though we will never forget, the pain does lift. With all those messages also came a lot of resources for grieving parents. I have included all those links at the bottom in case others can also use them to find comfort and support.
Most days I feel like I’m healing. Like we will make it. And then something. One little thing happens… a child in the grocery store smiles at me, mail for expectant parents, a diaper commercial. And I completely loose control. But it is in these moments that I feel God the most. When I’m out of control, God steps in and whispers: Remember me? I have collected your tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8) I will never leave you (Hebrews 13:5) Even in the worst times, I will be with you (Isaiah 43:2).
God finds me, even when I don’t want to be found. And even in times when I don’t fully believe that things will get better, I have to believe in God’s love for me. I have to believe that He had a Son too and that He gave Him up … for me. That God has come to give all of us hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). Tomorrow is coming and God is already there.
Also here are some books that I have read and have helped me. They aren’t specifically for infertility or miscarriage but they do inspire hope:
It’s a boy.
We picked up the pathology reports from the hospital by the end of last week. A detailed description of our sweet baby. Measurements from crown to rump and the size of his little feet. Everything in place and everything perfect. Just how God intended. I am still amazed at how God can create such a complex being in just 12 short weeks. Eye lids. Fingernails. Toes. And to be able to know that our baby was indeed a boy. We are beyond blessed. We obviously were not going to be picky at this point but it did seem we were naturally drawn to little bow ties and the color blue. Maybe because I always wanted an older brother. Someone to protect me and make walking the halls of school a little easier. Nick joked from the very first ultrasound at 7 weeks that he saw “it” and he knew we were going to have a boy.
Our dreams came true. We have a little boy waiting for us.
That made choosing a name half as complicated. We wanted his name to mean something. I found a whole list of names and meanings I liked. Interesting that the names we picked out weren’t even in the running for our baby when he was alive.
Oliver: affectionate, faithful, olive tree.
Joe: God will increase
My dear sweet Oliver Joe. I didn’t give the name Oliver much thought until I started reading about olive trees. I knew that olive trees were mentioned a lot in the Bible so I started to look up different verses. Psalm 52:8 “But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever.”
Then I came across a website talking about olive trees. “No matter what the conditions: hot, dry, cold, wet, rocky, or sandy, the evergreen olive tree will live and produce fruit. It is said that you can never kill an olive tree. Even when cut down or burned, new shoots will emerge from its roots. This Scripture passage reminds us that no matter the conditions of life, we should remain steadfast as the olive tree in the presence of God – evergreen (faithful) and bearing fruit.”
That was it. God will bring new life from what we thought was the end. We may never know just how God is using Oliver’s life to touch hearts already. Oliver planted the seed and God is cultivating for the harvest. The words spoke to me. The words I need to repeat to myself. I WILL trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever. Through this storm, I WILL remain faithful and bear fruit. God is teaching me so much from our baby. That life is not fair. That life on this side of Heaven is not perfect. That bad things will happen for no apparent reason. But if we remain in Him, He will make all things new. Nothing is wasted. That neither death nor life can separate us from the love He has for us. And if I love my Oliver this much in just 12 weeks, how much more does our God love us?
Joe, which is short for Joseph, is our professing hope. That God will increase. Increase our love. Increase our family. He is already increasing our faith.
God brought us Oliver and Oliver is bringing us closer to God.
It has been a week since the nightmare started. I have had good moments and not so good moments. I have trusted God and yelled to God. It seems as though I am in a fog and the terrors of last week never really happened. Before the doctors released us from ER, they gave us some papers and told us we had a couple days to make the decisions. Apparently a couple of years ago, Ohio passed a law that required hospitals to give parents information regarding fetal death certificates and burial options. At the time I was upset that I had not only just lost my baby but that they were asking us to make major decisions. Looking back it is a big step in the right direction. A step in acknowledging the heartbeat inside the womb as a real human being.
We decided not to get a death certificate at this time. We can apply for it online for up to 7 years, so we chose to wait and see how we were feeling after the dust settles. As far as burial options go, my heart was so unsettled. I knew that I didn’t want a big funeral but I knew that I did want to recognize our baby’s life and the impact he had already made on us. The hospital had completed the pathology examination 4 days after my surgery. I couldn’t stand the thought of my baby just sitting in a jar somewhere. After calling the hospital, a lady told us that she would bring our baby over to the funeral home. I wanted to see him. I felt the urge to be in the same room as him. Nick called the funeral home director and asked if we could see our baby. The director then said something that I think will ring in our heads forever, “There’s really nothing to see.”
The instant we found out we were pregnant I was downloading all sorts of pregnancy apps on my phone. Apps that would tell me everyday just what was going on inside of me and each little milestone our little peanut was accomplishing. At week 11 through 12 I knew exactly what my baby was supposed to have looked like. He had even just managed to grow fingernails! So I was NOT going to accept the fact that there was “nothing to see”. We rode the motorcycle over to the funeral home and the whole time I was mentally preparing myself for the worst. I asked God to give me His eyes. To see our baby as the absolute miracle he was and not just a cluster of cells. The director had us sit down at a table and reminded me again of what I was about to witness. I reassured him that I had already been through all of the trauma. I had already seen all the blood and tissue first hand. I just wanted to see our baby. He walked out of the room and was back within seconds holding a little plastic jar.
My heart was racing. The jar was so tiny. Please, Jesus, help me.
The director sat the jar down in front of me…and there he was. Our baby. Our almost 12 week old, 2 inches long baby. All ten little toes. Tiny little ears on the side of his head. His spine, his legs, his arms and elbows. Everything was there and I instantly fell in love. It made what we had just gone through so much more real. It made my being pregnant real. It really had happened and love had brought forth life. I will never forget those moments. The surreal minutes I held my baby’s body in my hands at the same time God was holding his spirit. I felt a direct line to heaven as I peered into the container. God is so good and I was and am so in awe of His creation.
The world doesn’t recognize the fetus as human until after 20 weeks gestation. The “there’s nothing to see” attitude is so easily applied to most miscarriages. But because of the new law set in place we were able to claim our unborn baby. To give him a name and a proper burial. God’s peace has come over me in knowing that He can make good out of bad. Isaiah 61:3 says “To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory.” We have decided on the route of cremation and we are planning a memorial in honor of our little miracle. Maybe even plant our own oak tree. Even though this world is full of sin and ugliness, God has given us a joyous blessing and He is bringing beauty from these ashes.
I decided I wanted to get my raw emotions recorded somewhere. I originally created this blog to be an inspiration to couples that haven’t been able to conceive yet. Then only a few weeks after buying the domain and creating the blog we found out we were pregnant!?! We absolutely couldn’t believe that it had actually FINALLY happened to us. I decided not to go public with the blog since at the time I didn’t feel I could be of any help to anyone and I didn’t want this to become just another mom blog and “look at how adorable my baby belly is”. I knew first hand how unintentionally hurtful it was to see and hear all about someone else’s baby when it seemed all of your prayers had fallen short of the “God, I’d like a baby” prayer line.
But we were so very happy. A little apprehensive but happy none the less. We even had a video announcement made by one of our favorite videographer friends. You can view it here. I will forever and always cherish this video and the moments I caught a glimpse of what it felt like to be a mother. We shared the video with family, friends and social media when I was a little over 10 weeks along. I had originally wanted to wait until I was in the “safe zone” of the second trimester to announce our baby to the world. But we were just so excited, we couldn’t keep a secret for one more second.
Everything seemed to be going as planned and I was looking forward to my next Dr’s visit to talk about and possibly even see our baby. At 11 weeks I started spotting some blood. To save on all the gruesome details, it continued and even got worse. So I called my Dr. and she made an appointment for me 2 days away. It was the longest wait of my life… so I thought. The next 72 hours would be full of unbearable waits and unbelievable memories.
Wednesday, May 7 – My mom went with me to the Dr’s appointment. It was her and my father’s 31st anniversary as well as her very first view of an ultrasound. I was very apprehensive and thought for sure it would be bad news. As soon as the Dr. was able to locate our baby, instantly he was kicking his long legs and waving his arms around as if to say “Don’t give up!”. The heartbeat was at 168 and we teased my husband that for sure we were going to have a girl. 😉 We cried happy tears of relief, called/text everyone who had been praying specifically for us and went home to soak up the fact that our baby was alive and healthy.
Thursday, May 8 – I woke up feeling happy and light. I had new found proof that everything was going to be ok. I cleaned the house a bit and finished up responding to emails and messages from the day before. Then I started to have some cramping accompanied by some blood. I instantly knew that something was definitely not right. I called the Dr. but they couldn’t see me until later that day. I had the choice to wait or just go to the ER. My mom and my husband came and picked me up. By then I had been passing large clots and my hope was quickly fading.
As my mom says, there is nothing fast about the ER and we waited, they took my vitals and ran some test. Finally they decided they wanted to see the baby through an ultrasound. I was wheelchaired back to a dark room and Nick followed holding the doors open on the way. I remember laying there during the ultrasound and knowing instantly when the nurse was silent. She just kept clicking buttons and moving the sensor back and forth. I could feel Nick’s hand squeezing mine tighter and at the same time I felt my grip on our baby fall through my fingers. I asked the nurse if there was anything to see. She hesitated and said that she isn’t really allowed to say but she turned her screen in my direction. There he was. That once, less than 24 hours ago, healthy kicking baby, now head down and motionless. I missed him instantly.
We were told to go home and wait for a call from the Dr as to when she would like to schedule the D&C.
Friday, May 9th – I had gotten about 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep when I woke up to really bad cramping. But these weren’t like yesterday. They were accompanied by vomiting, back pain, and chilled sweats. I called for Nick and he called the hospital. They say what I was feeling was a lot of what giving birth feels like. The contractions were unbearable and I couldn’t do anything but make it through the emergency door. After they were able to give me some pain medication, I could finally lay back and really take in what was going to be happening today. After lots of waiting again and more tests, the procedure to clean me up went smoothly and we came home.
It is now 8:58 pm on May 9th. Baby Bushong would have been 12 weeks today. I will never really know why this had to happen and right now my emotions feel as impulsive as the contractions I had been having. I keep repeating what our baby looked like as a healthy little life. I want to know whether our baby was a boy or girl. I want to know whether he’d have his father’s brown eyes. I want to show him all the cool toys I have been saving up for him and books I want to read to him. I get angry. I get furious. I get unbelievably sad. Then after I run through all of the emotions and I have no other road to take, I take hope. I take hope in knowing that some day I will get to hold my little baby for the first time. Actually, most likely, Nick and I will bear hug him at the gates of Heaven. I take hope in knowing our baby is in the hands of his Creator and his Creator knows our baby’s gender. Our baby doesn’t need silly toys or my books because he is in the presence of the Great Storyteller. And I can certainly hold on to the fact that my baby was made in the image of God so yes, in fact he does have his Father’s eyes.
And although I can’t even describe how badly the pain is or how awful the last few days have been, I have to have hope. I HAVE to know that everything happens for a reason and that it’s no one’s fault. That there was nothing we could have done differently and nothing we did to deserve this. Life here on Earth is not perfect but aren’t we so deeply blessed that this is not the end?!?
Tomorrow, if I’m able, I’m going to plant my garden. I read a quote somewhere that “to plant a garden, is to have hope for tomorrow”. I can’t think of a better way to profess my hope. This way, every year I know I’m one moment closer to being reunited with our baby. Even if right now, in this second, I don’t know how I’ll ever survive. I’m choosing to hope. I’m choosing to live my life so that no day falls wasted. I’m choosing to create something good out of what seems like something so bad. I’m choosing to count my blessings and literally number my gifts.
#1 – I got to see my baby waving to me before He met Jesus.
I remember it as if it were yesterday. The sun was shining while I was pushing my baby brother in the stroller. It might have been because I was the oldest of four children or the fact that I have a mother with a servant heart but I stopped the stroller, leaned over and wiped my brother’s snotty nose with my shirt.
Then. She. Said. It.
My babysitters words still ring in my ears, “You’re going to be a great mom someday.”
Fast forward several years to the summer of 2006. My college sweetheart asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes. Nick is one of the best parts of my life. So started plans for graduation, careers, wedding, honeymoon, life. I knew I wanted to start a family with Nick someday but I also wanted to enjoy being newly weds. So without a second thought I started taking birth control. It was what most people did, I had thought. Nick and I were married in June of 2008 and we spent the whole next year getting to know each other and enjoying being newlyweds.
After our one year anniversary we decided that we would be ok to start a family. I gladly stopped taking my birth control. We just wanted it to happen in God’s time. I think back about how excited and paranoid I was the next couple of months. I think we bought pregnancy tests as much as we bought cheese. And I like my cheese! I would think up crazy and fun ways of how I would share the good news to my family and friends and dream up what specific characteristics our baby would inherit from each of us. A couple of disappointing months went by but that was ok. There was always next month. Then next month turned into going on five years.
Infertility. It’s something no one talks about but so many people go through. It consumes your life, your thoughts, your emotions. It steals your joy and robs your self-worth. The spirit of jealousy and rage sneak up on you and the whole time you feel as though you’re the only one in the world not getting pregnant or throwing an over-the-top Pinterest inspired birthday party, or instagraming a photo of you snuggling with your own little bundle of joy. Through this whole process Nick and I have been pretty quiet about it. But why? It hasn’t been until recently that I’ve come to the realization that infertility like any other obstacle in life should be shared and supported by those around you, who love you and want to be an encouragement.
So this is my story, our journey. My desire is that by sharing our struggles and successes, what keeps us going and able to get up in the morning, it would encourage others to keep pressing on. To be real with you, whether you are going through this personally or know of someone going through it. That we can all live lives filled with hope and see blessings in the midst of our circumstances. We should be there for each other because we were not meant to walk this alone. 1 Thessalonians 5:11 “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up…”.
AND THE BEST PART: We have not given up! The Doctors can’t find an explanation of why we haven’t been able to conceive, yet we are still believing that one day we will have a little family of our own. I’m not going to say it’s part of God’s plan that we haven’t had children but I will say that God uses us right where we are if we aren’t afraid to step out of the boat.