Sunday, May 13, 2012

Speechless

I've had this post sitting unpublished for over a month now, but I figure I should actually post it and begin the stream of posts that I'd planned about our precious little one before I don't have any spare time to record this part of our journey!

Honestly, for months now I have pondered how to start this post and what to title it. The word that most strongly expresses how I feel is "speechless." I feel completely at a loss for words, humbled in amazement and awe.

Before I started writing this I read through some of my previous posts and found tears welling in my eyes numerous times. That 5 cm cyst that I was so nervous about turned out to be a wonderful, glorious cyst as it was healthy enough to be conceived into a child.

Going back to November, when the time came for that cycle to come to an end, I had pondered all week when I should take a pregnancy test and Thanksgiving day I woke up and decided that I might as well.  I didn't feel like going to a large family gathering and having the disappointing news dropped on me that once again I was NOT pregnant.  I figured it was better to know in the comfort and quietness of my home so I could grieve in private. I never thought it would be positive.  I've seen so many negative pregnancy tests I was convinced that a negative result was all I was capable of producing with my body. I sat there looking at that little piece of plastic and to my shock started to see a faint line appear and for the first time ever it wasn't just the control line! You never know how you'll react in a situation like that;  I didn't know if I'd be stunned, numb, or bawl my eyes out.  As I stared at that little line all I could do was weep.

Andrew, the poor guy, he had worked nights the previous evening and was still in bed as he'd probably only gotten 3 or 4 hours of sleep by that time. Here comes this crazy woman stumbling into his bedroom, half dressed, bawling her eyes out. He jumped out of bed thinking something terrible had happened and all I could stammer out was, "I think I'm pregnant..." and then I continued to bawl.

It was honestly like I was in a daze. I knew God could open my womb if he wanted to, but I'd honestly come to believe that he didn't want that for us. I was convinced we would never get pregnant until after we adopted, if we ever got pregnant at all. But low and behold, God's plans for us were much different than I ever dreamed. And even now, months later, all I can do is sit in awe and wonder, completely speechless.

Half a decade, what?

Yesterday, Andrew and I celebrated our 5th anniversary. In some ways, I can hardly believe it has been five years already.  I've been married to him for half a decade!  Yet, in a lot of ways it seems like we've been married much longer... because when I look back I can hardly remember or imagine my life without him.

Marriage has changed me in so many ways.  We are separate people, yet our lives are so intertwined that he seems like a part of who I am.   We've gone through seasons of our life where we've had to be separated for extended amounts of time; even now we often have opposite schedules that affect our ability to spend extended amounts of time together.  Experiencing that has made me realize just how much I LOVE our time together.  When I get home at night and he is gone, our home just feels so empty.  When he is home, even if we have absolutely nothing going on or we're working on totally separate projects - his very presence in our home makes everything so much more full and wonderful.

Andrew, if you read this, I hope you know how very thankful I am for you.  I love you even more today than I did during our time of elation while we dated and were engaged.  We've had ups and downs, good days and bad, times of intense heartache and sorrow and times of great joy.  Through it all, there is no one I would have rather had walking by my side than you.  You make me feel safe and loved and cherished.  How blessed I am to have a husband who is so willing to serve me and do SO many things around our house when I'm incapable.... how much painting have you done lately?  Oh, thank you!

My life is better than I ever could have even dreamed up.  I LOVE the life we have made together and wouldn't trade it for anything.  I look forward to many, many more years together.... I'm all yours and I wouldn't have it ANY other way.  Thanks for all you do for our family, you're simply the best!  Happy anniversary!



Mother's Day

I wanted to make myself stop, sit down, and reflect on this day so I can get my thoughts into writing. Mother's Day is one of those bittersweet holidays. It's a wonderful time to take a step back and truly appreciate all the mothers that surround us - particularly our own. 

Growing up Mother's Day was always that holiday that I would try to think of something sweet I could do to make my own mom feel appreciated. There was no association with pain or sadness, maybe guilt sometimes if I wasn't as prepared as I should have been, lol, but mostly joy and gratefulness that God blessed me with such a great mom. I loved being able to shower her with love and praise - she deserves it for all the time, sacrifice, and love she has poured into our family over the years.

A few years ago, however, Mother's Day took on new emotions for me. I honestly started to dread the approach of Mother's Day as I knew it would be the flashing neon sign reminding me of how I was incapable of becoming a mother. Infertility can cause Mother's Day to be one of the hardest days of the year. I know for me, infertility became just a daily part of my life - some days would be harder than others, but it almost becomes a part of who you are, a defining characteristic because it affects so many of the decisions you make and the direction of your life. But Mother's Day is that one day a year where everyone stops and turns their attentions towards mothers and pours out accolades and dotes on all those wonderful women who have given so much - oh the blessing of motherhood. It's true, it's so very true that it's a blessing and those wonderful women have sacrificed so much and SHOULD be honored, but to the infertile heart it's so very painful. You want to feel that precious life in you SO badly, you want to make the sacrifice and give that precious child everything you possibly can, but yet for some reason God has said "no". For whatever reason, you're left sitting on your chair at church while all the other women stand up when the preacher recognizes the mothers. Everyone around you is told "Happy Mother's Day" while people quietly walk passed you because, after all, you're not a mother. Proverbs 30:15, 16 says it well:

“There are three things that are never satisfied,
four that never say, ‘Enough!’:
the grave, the barren womb,
land, which is never satisfied with water,
and fire, which never says, ‘Enough!’"

The barren womb longs to be filled, yet this day is a reminder that that deep longing and yearning are still unfulfilled with no explanation or reason as to why.

Moving forward to this year... I look down today and see this bulge on my belly and feel these movements beneath my skin and I realize that today, on this Mother's Day, I'm a mom... and the thought makes me weep. I weep with joy and unbelief and gratitude at this miraculous gift in my womb, this gift that I never thought I would get to experience. Oh, precious little one in my womb, if you only knew how dearly you are loved already! However, as much as my weeping is of joy, a portion of my weeping is still in sadness. Now that I have tasted the pain and sorrow of infertility, I don't think I will ever be able to look at this day the same because my heart is still heavy for all those women who wake up and get to walk through today with the painful reminder of that yearning that is still unfulfilled asking, "Why God? Why not yet?" and having to surrender to His timing even when it makes no sense. I'll go to church today and look around at all the women that surround me knowing there are likely some who are deeply grieving today and honestly, my heart hurts deeply for them. I anticipate the pastor's words honoring the women in the congregation who get to wear the title of "Mom" and, for the first time, those words don't stab my heart, but yet I cringe a little knowing that knife is going into someone else's heart and I long for comforting words to be spoken to those who have experienced loss - whether it be of a child you've actually conceived or the loss of a child you've only dreamed of conceiving, or even the loss of your own mother.

Today my heart is filled with gratitude and joy and thankfulness, but today I also mourn and weep and pray for my dear sisters who surround me who are hurting on this day - your pain isn't forgotten.

"[The Lord] heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars
and calls them each by name.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
His understanding has no limit." Psalm 143:3-5