Infertility

I always seem to find myself in this place. 

It's been so long since I've even written a blog post that I hardly know where to begin. 

I've put off writing for so long because my heart has been so full, and I wasn't ready to wrestle through my thoughts, sharing them openly here and making myself vulnerable to the judgement of others.

2013 was a beautiful year.  I think I cried more in the last twelve months than in all the rest of my life combined; but the Lord blesses us even in the midst of tears. 

He is the one who makes beautiful things out of ashes. 

My life has been so richly blessed, and I am filled with joy.

On our wedding day over a year ago, my head was filled with visions of myself waddling around, pregnant and glowing; knitting baby booties and sweaters, and indulging in crazy cravings. 

I never doubted that within a year we would be overjoyed to be the proud parents of our first child.  

We wanted to start trying for a baby right from day one. 

Happily, our honeymoon was in perfect sync with my cycle, 

and I fully expected to be announcing my pregnancy soon.

As the first few months of our marriage flew by, I was disappointing that I wasn't pregnant but confident that I would be in the next cycle.  Soon three months had passed, then four, six, eight, a whole year. 

 Sometimes I felt consumed by grief.  How unfair and cruel it seemed to me that I was caught up in this vicious rhythm of dashed hopes and crushing disappointment. 

Each month I would hope again, and the higher my hopes rose, the farther I fell. 

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Proverbs 13:12

Time and time again I obsessed over symptoms. 

One month I couldn't stand to eat spinach because it tasted fermented and moldy to me, my husband laughed, "You must be pregnant!" 

Other times I could have sworn I was overly tired and a little queasy.

Sometimes my period would come three, even four or five days late. I would take test after test, telling myself that my HCG levels just weren't high enough to detect yet.

Then reality would hit with searing pain (Literally!) and I would be devastated. 

Several months ago I carefully studied nine women called "barren" in the bible.

Sarah (Genesis 16) 

Rebekah (Genesis 25:21)

Leah and Rachel (Genesis 30)

Monah's Wife (Judges 13)

Hannah (1 Samuel 1)

Michal (2 Samuel 6)

The Shunammite Woman (2 Kings 4)

 Elisabeth (Luke 1)

Only Michal, the wife of David, never became pregnant. 

2 Samuel says that she "despised him in her heart" and "had no children to the day of her death."

Every other woman listed here eventually had children.  

Some waited longer than others, but the Lord was faithful to each of them.

One thing that stood out to me as I studied these women: their prayers were vastly different than mine.  

As I read the words these women spoke to the Lord, my heart resonated with their pain. 

Some phrases were repeated by several different women, such as "When will You remember me?" or "When will You remove this reproach?" 

1 Samuel 1:10 says: "And she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed to the Lord and wept in anguish."

Hannah's silent prayer was so passionate that Eli rebuked her for being intoxicated.

In verse 15 Hannah replies

"No, my lord, I am a woman of sorrowful spirit. 

I have drunk neither wine nor intoxicating drink, 

but have poured out my soul before the Lord.

 Do not consider your maidservant a wicked woman,

 for out of the abundance of my complaint and grief I have spoken until now."

 (My emphasis)

This woman POURED OUT her heart before the Lord. There are no flowery phrases and eloquent words here, only raw honest pain and grief, even anger.

This idea was revolutionary to my prayer life.  

God knows my heart. He already sees the anger and bitterness there, He knows of my longings.

The book I am currently reading, 

When Empty Arms Become a Heavy Burden by Sandra Glahn and William Cutrer, MD, 

has an  EXCELLENT chapter on anger. (Actually, the whole book is just wonderful!)

This chapter lists scripture after scripture written in anger.

 The authors point out that while we are prone to believe that God only accepts pretty polite prayers, prophets and psalmists often prayed in indignation, accusing God of deception, forgetfulness and negligence. They railed against Him for being silent in response to their pleadings. 

They expressed frustration and rage.  Yet there were no lightning bolts, no thunders of displeasure; instead, the Lord gently reassured and comforted them. 

This has often been the case for me. 

When there is a storm raging inside my soul and I pour out my anger and sorrow to the Lord, 

sometimes with clenched fists and chest heaving with sobs, 

 I always experience the sweet calm peace of being close to my heavenly Father.

After all my tears are spent and I'm finished with my ranting, it is then that I can be joyful, even thankful.

If you are in the midst of this journey too, I encourage you to plead honestly with the Lord. 

You are His child, and His heart breaks for you. 

Tell Him of your pain and frustration, and then allow Him to comfort you.

I know that the Lord has a plan for me, 

I know that He is for me, not against me, 

and I know that He loves me. 

 I don't know if or when He will open this womb of mine. 

But I trust Him.

I know that He is refining me in the fire.

I would love to hear your thoughts and comments. Please be kind! Some remarks made with good intentions can inflict great pain. 

There is so much more in my heart on this subject, 

so if you are interested, keep an eye out for future posts along the same lines. :)

May the Lord encourage and comfort you.

May your day be blessed.

And for all you TTCers out there, may the lines be ever in your favor!