First {Mother's Day}

Tomorrow will be my very first Mother's Day with a living, breathing child.  Well, last year she was living, just not breathing air.  ;)  I haven't written about our little girl yet on this blog, but she made her entrance into this world on Friday, August 23, at 4:44 pm.  You can read my account of her birth story on our surrogacy blog, if you haven't already. 

I am immeasurably grateful to have the privilege of being AJ's mom. 

Every day she makes me smile. 

She is my dream come true. 

I had just about given up on ever becoming a mom, which is why it still doesn't seem real to me at times.  She's not talking yet, but I know the day she calls me "Mommy" will be an amazing one. 

My Mother's Day gift(s).

I'm definitely not dreading Mother's Day like I once did.  It will feel odd to not skip church this year, and even more odd to be acknowledged as a mom by those around me.  It took a long time for me to feel like a mom.  I just recently stopped feeling like an imposter when I walked into the baby section at the store.  I no longer cringe when someone asks me how many kids I have.  But I'm still constantly aware of those I left behind because I lived in that anguish for 8 excruciating years. 

I will never forget what that was like.

This year my heart is also heavy for a close family friend whose grown daughter died last month, and for the family of my mom's best friend who passed away last weekend - both unexpectedly.  Yesterday was the funeral for my mom's friend and afterward I went to lunch with my parents, sister-in-law, and the friend who lost her daughter last month.  It felt strange being greeted by the cheerful, smiling faces of the restaurant staff considering we had all been crying tears just minutes earlier.  I certainly didn't feel like smiling back, but of course they had no idea what was going on in our lives.  At the end of our meal when our server wished all of the ladies at our table a Happy Mother's Day I smiled on the outside while my heart ached on the inside, thinking of these families whose Mother's Days will never be the same again. 

It would be foolish of me to expect the world to walk on eggshells in an attempt to avoid inflicting pain on someone else.  That would be an exercise in futility since the sad reality is that life is painful.  Holidays can be painful.  Even a casual conversation about everyday things can cause someone pain.  The only thing we can do is try to be aware that everyone is dealing with some kind of difficulty and be sensitive to those whose situations we do know about.

It may seem odd to some that I still have mixed feelings about Mother's Day, but years of infertility makes it impossible to forget where you once were.  It changes you unlike anything else.  That doesn't mean I'm living in the past, nor does it mean I don't love my own mom or think that moms shouldn't be celebrated on a special day.  I just wish it could be done in such a way that it didn't alienate those who find the day difficult. 

I am going to joyfully celebrate Mother's Day tomorrow.  I waited a long time to be a mom so I'm not about to pretend this day is not important to me.  But I'm also not going to forget those who struggle with it.

Source

Time flies... sometimes

A year ago today I started my current job. Which I love. I actually feel like I've been there forever, but that doesn't have anything to do with the job itself.  Being in an almost constant state of waiting makes time seem to go slowly.

This last year has felt like the longest year of my life.  Truthfully, the last 3 years have seemed to take forever, but especially this most recent one.  Often it has felt like time has been at a complete standstill. 

Waiting for a chance to go forward with surrogacy. 
Waiting to move to Florida to be with my husband. 
Waiting for our house to sell. 
Waiting, waiting, and more miserable waiting. 

(Can you tell that waiting is my favorite??)

They say time flies when you're having fun so it would only make sense for the reverse to also be true.

This past year has crawled and it has not been fun.

My husband has been unemployed for most of the year.  Soooo not fun - for either of us.

And although I am immensely grateful and excited about having a baby in just a few short months (!), my lack of involvement and physical separation while waiting for her arrival has been torture.   

(Please don't tell me it will be worth it.  That's the single most unhelpful thing you could say to someone who is tired of waiting.) 

Top it all off with the fact that I haven't physically felt good for more than a year and it's no wonder time has felt like it's been inching by at a snail's pace.

I hate to sound like I'm complaining. That's not my goal with this post.  I'm keenly aware that things could be much much worse.  I'm truly just musing more than anything else; pondering how viewpoints can be so vastly different even though we're all allotted the same amount of time in this life.

People with kids always talk about how fast they grow up.

"It seems like just yesterday when..."  

"You'll want to freeze time."  

"You won't want her to grow up."

"I can't believe she's old enough to..."

That may all be true... but I say bring it on. 

I'm planning to embrace every stage of our precious child's life with joy, and do my very best to be thankful that time is moving quickly... even if it is going "too fast."  Because I know the alternative is worse, and I'm so very weary of "slow."

I realize that once she arrives I may change my mind, but right now? 

Right now I can't wait for time to start flying. 

three {one}

Three is how many kids I wanted to have.  Well, 2 at the very minimum, but preferably 3.  You know, back when I thought infertility was something that happened to other people.  It never crossed my mind that just having one child would be next to impossible.

Oh to be that naive again... to live in blissful ignorance, dreaming of a picture-perfect future... to think that having 3 children by the time I turned 35 would be easily achieved.

Even in my early infertility days I never thought for a second that I wouldn't have at least one child by the time I turned 35.  Even after I was told that my body was broken, I believed God was bigger than any diagnosis (still do!) and that surely we would eventually be able to get pregnant.  Even then I never dreamed it would be an uphill, 8-year battle that ended with us expecting a baby at the ages of 38 & 40, via a surrogate.

Yet, here we are.  Our lives and dreams reshaped by this thing called infertility.  

For which I am grateful beyond words, oddly enough.

Grateful for the pain that shaped me.  Grateful for the journey that led us to this destination.  Grateful to be expecting THIS precious baby girl, at this time, in this way.   

Grateful. 

Still... that doesn't change the fact that I dreamed of having a bigger family.  Once she's in my arms I know some of that will fade, but lately I've been feeling a little wistful at the thought of her growing up without siblings.  This surprised me because it's something I've never felt before, and I'm not quite sure how to process it. 

I never considered for one moment that this much-loved, long-awaited child would very likely be an "only."  I don't know how to dream about what life with an only child will be like, because that's not something that was ever on my radar.  It's a totally foreign concept to me.

I started this post at the beginning of National Infertility Awareness Week, but then I kinda stalled.  I was prompted to work on it again today after reading a FB post referencing a conversation overheard in a waiting room where a couple of moms were discussing whether or not it was "worth the stress" to have a 3rd child (while one held her 3rd in her arms and the other was pregnant with her 3rd).

Oh what I wouldn't give for that kind of "stress." 

That's just one tiny example of the level of insensitivity that exists when it comes to infertility.  People simply don't stop to think about how hurtful words like that can be to someone who is unable to have one child, or who had to fight tooth and nail for the children they do have.

Just like any other life-altering disease, infertility isn't something you think about unless you are affected by it.

That's why I talk about infertility.

My friend Thelma said it perfectly in her blog post today (which is a must-read, by the way):

"Awareness is foundational to understanding, which in turn acts as a catalyst for compassion."

I tell my story in hopes of providing understanding to those who don't know what it's like to live with an infertility diagnosis, so in turn there is more compassion and support for those who are facing it.

Infertility is a disease.  True, it's not something life-threatening like cancer, but it is an incredibly difficult, personal struggle for the person who is living it. 

1 in 8.  The numbers don't lie.  Someone you know could be quietly hurting.  Don't push her to share if she's not ready, but I would encourage you to be sensitive with the words you say and be ready to support and encourage her when/if she does choose to open up.  No, you can't take away her pain or heal her broken body, but it would mean so much to her just to know that you care and acknowledge that what she's going through is real.

Steal My Show

For the past several weeks my radio stations have been playing a lot of the new Toby Mac song "Steal My Show."  When they first started playing it I kinda dismissed it because the song is being sung from the artist's perspective, about how he wants God to take center stage and be the Star of his concerts.  Doesn't relate to someone who isn't a performer, right?

Wrong.

The more I listened to the lyrics, the more they penetrated my soul, and the more I realized this could be my new theme song, or at the very least another song in the soundtrack of my life.

As Christians, each one of our lives is on display for the world to see.  We may not be singing in a crowded auditorium full of fans who are singing along to our songs, but we are showcasing God's work in our lives and demonstrating the love of Christ to those around us. 

Earlier this week I was reading in The One Year Book of Hope and this part really struck me:

"He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less."  John 3:30 (NLT)  That's what it's all about, isn't it?  Shouldn't this be the joy and passion of our lives?  For Jesus to become bigger in our estimation and in the eyes of the world?  For Jesus to shine brighter than any other star in the universe, including our own?  For Jesus to take the throne He deserves in the heavens and in our hearts?  It's what we want and yet there's a rub.  For Jesus to become greater, we must become less. Our agenda must become less important so His agenda can chart our course.  Our earthly appetites must be subdued so our appetite for Him can be unleashed.  Our afflictions must leave center stage so that His love for the world can be made visible in us and through us. 

My agenda for so many years was trying to get pregnant -- something that is seemingly easy for most of the world, yet it was elusive and ultimately impossible for me.  There was nothing "wrong" with my agenda, as trying to achieve pregnancy is a very natural and normal thing for a woman.  However, my agenda wasn't God's plan for me, and it needed to become less important so that His could take precedence.

Now here I am, smack dab in the middle of this amazing story that God had planned the whole time.  I would have never chosen to walk the path of infertility for 8 long years, and I certainly wouldn't have chosen surrogacy as the way I am to become a mother.  I'm totally blown away that we're here, because deep down I don't think I ever truly believed it would work.  But God knew.  He's known all along. 

I have questioned God and cried out to Him so many times along the way, and I'm probably not done since this a very complex and emotional place to be.  But it's not my "show."  It's His.  And it's time for me to step out of the way and let Him shine.

Going Public {for real}

After years of heartache and infertility, Scott & I are overjoyed to share that we are expecting a baby via surrogacy! It was never in *our* plan to take this route to parenthood, but there is no doubt that God has clearly guided us here, as we have seen His hand each step of the way.

You can read our whole story by clicking through the "tabs" at the top of our surrogacy blog (http://carriedblog.blogspot.com/) and get a little introduction to our amazing surrogate, "Sally" (we don't use our real names for privacy purposes).

We are overwhelmed with gratefulness to Sally, to our family and friends who have supported us these past couple of years, and most of all to God. 

MAY HE BE GLORIFIED through this story and the life of our precious, long-awaited child. 

"The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy." - Psalm 126:3

praise {whether I feel like it or not}

I love country music.  I grew up in a very conservative church and home, so listening to any music that had a {gasp} *drum beat* was forbidden.  When my sister and I were in jr. high, we got a little rebellious and started listening to country music on the sly.  Our parents eventually found out and weren't happy, but like all good parents they gave in.  ;)  Well, my dad didn't but I think he realized he'd already lost us to "the world" so there wasn't any point in fighting.  Or something like that.  (Love you, Dad!)

Anyway...  When I went away to college I was introduced to the new-to-me genre of Contemporary Christian Music and I was hooked.  Dad can blame all my Bible college buddies for that addiction.  ;)  I still listened to a lot of country music over the course of the next several years, but my music "diet" was much more balanced and varied.

A few years ago when our infertility struggle was at its worst (or so I thought!)  I made a purposeful decision to start primarily listening to Christian music.  Since then there have been MANY times when I haven't felt like listening to songs of praise and worship, but I forced myself anyway and consistently found my mood would improve after just one or two songs. That's proof to me right there that there's power in the lyrics of music.

Which brings me to today.  Currently I am at the lowest of lows, physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually...  I am completely overwhelmed and burdened down by everything that is going on in our lives right now.  Scott hasn't been able to find a job.  Our house in KC will not sell.  A close family friend passed away unexpectedly last month.  We won't be seeing our families for the holidays.  I have ovarian cysts that are causing a lot of pain (which is one reason why I'm having a full hysterectomy next month).  Our finances are shot and we'll soon be buried in medical bills.  My depression and anxiety are at an all-time high.

It's just too much.

Yet today I found myself humming a tune, and before I even realized what I was doing I started quietly singing the words:  "You make all things work together for my good."  Repeatedly.

This is why I made the switch. 

Right now I'm not even listening to Christian music as consistently, yet it's still ingrained in my head.  Music is tricky like that -- getting stuck in your head whether you want it there or not.  Obviously in this case that's a very good thing since so much of Christian music is taken straight from Scripture.  What's better than having the Word of God constantly running through your head?

Even on days when I don't feel like praising Him, I find the words on my lips... and consequently they eventually make their way to my heart.

It's not a magic cure.  It doesn't change anything about my situation, but it does change my outlook.  It's hard to wallow in self-pity when you are continually reminded of the truths in the Bible.  Not that I don't still have bad days.  Trust me, I do.  I've had a lot of bad days lately.

Life is not easy, but I am a firm believer that it's easier with God.  So I will continue to rest on His promises and choose to believe the words that fill my head on a daily basis.  And I'll keep praising my Savior, whether I feel like it or not, because He gave me the greatest gift of all.

You stay the same through the ages
Your love never changes
There may be pain in the night
But joy comes in the morning

And when the oceans rage
I don't have to be afraid
Because I know that You love me
Your love never fails

You make all things work together for my good

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.  Romans 8:28 (ESV)

Going Public {sort of}

No, I don't have big and exciting news, but I am finally ready to share a little bit about what's been going on "behind the scenes" in our lives.

What I'm about to share is viewed as controversial in many circles, which is why I've chosen to hold out for as long as I have.  It's also the reason I've chosen to do some purging of my Facebook friends recently -- not because I distrust or dislike certain people, but because I feel the need for more privacy due to where we are on this journey.

The circumstances in my life right now is a reality I never expected to face, but it is my reality and I don't feel like I can fully be myself if I'm not able to be more open about it.

So here we go...

I've mentioned on this blog before that Scott & I went through an IVF cycle back in 2010, and that this cycle failed.  We were heartbroken to lose several embryos in that process, but thankful for the 2 who were able to be frozen for future attempt(s).

Unfortunately, it wasn't long afterward that we found out my body couldn't support a pregnancy.  Ever.  Suddenly we were in a position we had never dreamed of being in.  We had 2 embryos, and no womb to put them in.

Surrogacy was our only option.

After 2 torturous years of waiting and praying, we were finally able to give one of our tiny babies the chance at life that he/she deserved.  Everything went perfect on the technical side, and we even got an early positive pregnancy result, but sadly we lost our precious baby a few short days later.

We are now in the beginning stages of giving our last tiny baby a chance at life.

I have a separate blog where both me and our surrogate have been posting, but I'm not quite ready to go completely public with that site yet.  Right now I would covet your support and prayers as we walk the complex road that is surrogacy.  It has been draining on us emotionally, mentally, physically, and financially.

The latter is what has prompted me to write this blog post.

I hate asking for money.  HATE it.  But our surrogate (who is an amazing gift from God) is heading up a fund-raising campaign and is confident that God is going to provide what we need in order to pay for our next attempt.  I wish my faith was as strong...  I'm working on that (I say that a lot, huh?).  Please don't feel obligated to give, but if you want to...  I would be humbled and grateful beyond words.  I have included the widget below (with our first "mini-goal" total) for anyone who wishes to donate.  You can also donate via our merchandise shop that my talented friend Jenn has designed and created for us.

More than monetary donations though, I would ask for your prayers. 

I so desperately want this little one to live... and right now I can't even muster up a glimmer of hope (7 years of infertility will do that to you).

Losing this baby after waiting, hoping, and praying for him/her for 2 long years has been devastating to me...  and I'm petrified of losing our last little one. 

I know that all I can do is cling to Jesus and try to trust His plan... even though I may never understand it.

The Ugly Truth

Sometimes the truth is ugly.  We answer "fine" but there are many other thoughts and feelings behind that one word.  We don't tell the truth not only because it's not pretty, but because we don't think people want to hear it. 

Do you want to hear my truth?  My ugly truth?

Sometimes I just want to give up.

Sometimes I want to throw in the towel.

Sometimes I wish we could just move on with our lives.

Sometimes the thought of being on the "other side" of infertility sounds amazing... whether it's with or without children... simply because I want all of this to be over.

It's hard to have hope when you've been waiting for a number of years. It's hard to believe things will ever be different when nothing changes.  It's hard to be hopeful, even when you can see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.  

I'm tired of the ride.  I don't know how much longer I will have the strength to stay on this roller coaster. Call me selfish, but I NEED to know there is an end... that someday the pain will be over.

I know there will still be pain in my life. I'm am just so very weary of this pain... this sadness...

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week.  

I know, I know...  there's a week for everything these days, but infertility is something that is often ignored because nobody -- on either side of the equation -- wants to talk about it. 

It's painful. 
It's uncomfortable. 
It's private. 
It's personal. 

With infertility numbers on the rise, it's very likely that someone you know is affected... but  they may not be talking about it with anyone, and maybe not even admitting it to themselves.

Can I ask a favor of you? Reach out to one of these individuals and show them that you care. Don't pretend to understand their pain; just tell them you're sorry that they're hurting.  The pain of infertility is excruciating, and it changes you whether you want it to or not. 

 It's an exhausting way to live, because it's a reality that constantly weighs on you and there is no escape. 

However...  I am still thankful. 

I'm determined to praise God, even when I don't feel like it, because He is good. 

I will survive, even if I don't end up with a child in my arms.

I am not consumed.  His mercies are new every morning.  He is faithful.

  For all these things...  I am forever grateful.

grieving {with hope}

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 (NIV)

Tonight I am grieving for a friend.  She is a friend whom I have never met in person and have only interacted with online, yet she is a friend I care very deeply about. My friend's name is Mandy, and she became a first-time mommy just a few days ago.  No one truly "deserves" to become a mom, but if anyone did it would be this amazing lady.  

Mandy's pregnancy came after 9 years of desperate longing, earnest praying, and medical intervention.  She was initially carrying twins, but her world came crashing down the day she found out one of her precious children had died.  Then a few months later she found out that her baby girl would need heart surgery when she was merely days old.  Mandy spent the last couple weeks of her pregnancy in the hospital, because the doctors wanted to keep her baby safely inside for as long as possible.  

This breathtakingly beautiful little girl was born on March 24, but sadly, her mother's world came crashing down again when Abigail left this earth one short week after her birth.  Mandy was able to hold tiny Abigail in her arms as she slipped away into the arms of Jesus.

Photos by Simply Pictorial

Abigail's death is one of the many things in this world that I don't understand.  How could anyone even begin to make sense of a child's death?  As one of my dearest friends recently said, "It doesn't feel right that life just goes on when a baby dies."  Since my interactions with Mandy have all been online, it's surreal to be sitting at my computer, watching my online life going on like normal while I know how very deeply she is hurting.  It felt wrong going out to dinner and watching a movie last night when I knew Mandy would be coming home with an empty womb, empty arms, and facing an empty nursery full of baby things that will never be used.   

I can't imagine that kind of heartache.  I honestly don't know how the women who have experienced the loss of a child -- at any stage -- are able to keep breathing.  I don't think I could.  Their strength is amazing to me, and yet I know this strength did not come naturally.  They have been forced to learn how to live again and learn to keep moving forward while their painful wounds are ripped open again and again with every daily reminder of all that they've lost.  

I wish I could take away, or even partially carry some of Mandy's pain.  More than anything, I wish I could bring baby Abigail back... but I am grateful for the confidence that Abigail is safe in the arms of Jesus, fully healed and perfectly whole.  I just desperately wish she could have been like that on this earth.  ♥

I'd like to think that some day we will all understand the tragedies of this life, but I tend to think we'll forget all about them when we see the face of Jesus.  Sometimes it's hard to remember that as much as it hurts now, this world and all the pain that comes with it is temporary.  Heaven is our final destination, and there will be many joyful reunions when we get there. 

Looking Ahead

It's hard to believe another year has come and gone.

We say that kind of thing at the beginning of each new year, as though it's never happened before.  Time truly does go quickly, yet it often feels like it's dragging by, especially when we're experiencing difficulties.

Like many of you, I had my fair share of those last year.  In fact, I'm fairly certain 2011 was my most difficult year yet, which frightens me since I know it's very likely that I will have more difficult years in the future.  Possibly even 2012.

But I can't live in fear of the unknown.  God is good and will help me get through whatever challenges arise in this new year, just as He has helped me get through the challenges of years past.

It's equally possible that this new year could be the best year I've ever experienced.  There's no way for any of us to know what this year will hold.  As much as I think I'd like to have a preview or some insight into my future, I don't need to know what lies ahead.  God has already seen it, and that is enough. 

Last year at this time I posted about Hope, and even though we don't have a child yet, I still believe the words from that post.  I don't quite understand what it is about the beginning of a new year that makes me feel so hopeful.  There's nothing magical about it.  January 1st is just another day on the calendar, yet it feels fresh and new. 

In some ways, relocating to Florida has felt like a fresh new start.  Not that we wanted to leave our old life... our friends... our family.  But here we are -- together! -- and that is so much better than living apart for 5 months.  Trust me.

Now that we're starting to get settled, and we have this brand new year, it's like we have a clean slate with unlimited possibilities.  Well, almost unlimited.  ;)  Do I miss my family and friends?  Absolutely.  But I also can't suppress a little excitement over what what this new year may hold for us.  And that feels pretty darn good.  :)

Happy New Year, friends!  I hope you will look forward with me.

"I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back." Philippians 3:13-14 (The Message)

Lord, I've never been so weary...

These days I often find myself weighed down by the circumstances of my life.  Besides the usual work and house stuff, I'm now responsible for even more duties at home, plus trying the get the house ready to sell so that I can join my husband in Florida.

Then of course there's the ever-present burden of infertility.  Sometimes this journey feels like it's draining the very life out of me, especially when I stop and think about how long we've been on this road.  Six years.  Six years of waiting, hoping, praying, begging, pleading, treating, spending...  all to no avail. 

Last month was the one-year anniversary of our one-and-only IVF cycle (invitro fertilization). Many people go through IVF as a last-ditch effort. Due to my age and deteriorating reproductive system, it was our only shot.  Unfortunately, it didn't work, and my heart aches every day for the children we lost.  There are many times when it takes all my strength just to get through the day without dissolving into tears.    

Frequently when I find myself this weary, I breathe the words of the Mark Schultz song, He Is, as a prayer:

"Father let the world just fade away.
Let me feel your presence in this place.
Lord, I've never been so weary;
How I need to know You're near me..."

One thing I've noticed is that whenever I pray, "Lord, I've never been so weary," it's not long before I'm singing/praying it again, and I'm even more weary than the previous time. It's hard not to wonder if I will ever get to the point where I'm not continuing to get more and more weary...

I'm not going to lie and say I'm content with where I am in life right now. I am in a dark, sad place, and I'm often totally engulfed by my sorrow.  I'm tired of feeling this way; it's exhausting.  Just when I think I'm not strong enough to go through this anymore, it dawns on me that I don't have to be. 

I am not alone.

"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

I do not have to be strong enough.  

"He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless." Isaiah 40:29


"God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble."
Psalm 46:1


"For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13

Why is it that I always seem to forget these things? Why do I give my problems to Him, but then promptly take them back and try to manage them myself? When am I going to learn that He will carry my burdens for me, if I let Him?

"Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you." Psalm 55:22

That Mark Schultz song continues,

"Father, let the world just fade away,
'Til I'm on my knees...
'Til my heart can sing:
He is,
He was,
He always will be. 
Even when it feels like there is no one holding me,
Be still, my soul... He is."

Even when it feels like there is no one holding me...

Even when I am trying to deal with things through my own strength...

Even when I don't understand why my life has turned out this way...


Jesus is holding me.

"Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty." Psalm 91:1

Myth: You'll be a mom someday -- I just know it!

I've had more than one well-meaning friend say this to me. Even though this sentiment comes from a loving heart that desperately wants my dreams to come true, I do not always respond graciously when I hear it. Why? Because no matter how much anyone wants it to happen, there's no guarantee that it ever will.

Fertility treatments don't always work.  They didn't for us.

Adoption attempts don't always succeed.  I have several friends who have tried and are still waiting.

Saying that I will be a mom someday is of no comfort to me, because it is an empty promise that you are not capable of fulfilling.   

There is only One who holds the future, and only He can make those kinds of promises.  The only thing we can know without a doubt is that God has a plan for my life.  It's impossible for anyone but Him to know if that plan includes children.

So, what should you say or do for someone who is dealing with infertility?  Instead of making statements that you cannot guarantee, I would encourage you to find other ways to show your love and support.

Tell us you're sorry that we are hurting and that you're praying for us.

Acknowledge that our pain is real and that it's often harder on holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and especially Mother's Day.

Don't judge us when we choose to protect our hearts by skipping a baby shower or a one-year-old's birthday party.

Let us grieve, but don't try to "fix" our pain. 

It's hard to know what to say to someone who is hurting, especially when you haven't walked in their shoes.  But you don't have to fully understand in order to be supportive.

It's okay to admit that you don't know what to say.

Sometimes just hearing that you care is enough.  ♥
____________________________________________

Learn more about infertility here.
Read about National Infertility Awareness Week here.
Check out some other busted myths here.

More to This Life

Every morning I begrudgingly wake up, crawl out of bed, and begin another day of life as I know it.  It's far from exciting, this life I lead.  Not by my own choosing, mind you.  I wish my days were full of chaos and noise as I try to get my kids ready for school.  I would love to jump out of bed on a run each day because I don't know how in the world I will be able to accomplish everything that needs to be done.  I want to pack lunches, wipe runny noses, break up fights, go to PTA meetings, be a full-time chauffeur, plan birthday parties, face a mountain of never-ending laundry... the whole nine yards.  THAT was the life I always dreamed of.  I know that very few people are truly living the life of their dreams, but it does seem like most are able to at the very least become parents. 

But not me.  And not many of the sweet ladies who read this blog.  What we long for, we cannot obtain. 

When I was growing up, the only thing I ever wanted to be was a mom.  I do believe in my heart that some day this will happen, but I also know that there are no guarantees.  My journey thus far has been vastly different from what I expected, and God's plan for my life could very well continue to be different from my own. 

To be completely honest, most days I feel like I'm just going through the motions.  Life continues to go on around me as I struggle to make it through yet another day. When you are living with infertility, it feels very much like you are simply waiting your life away. 

Recently as I was pondering these things, I was struck by the thought that God wants so much more out of me.  I'm not talking about the "big picture" of my life -- but the "right now."  Is dragging myself out of bed and trudging forward enough?  Was it His plan for me to merely go through the motions during the difficult days?  Does my suffering make me exempt from serving Him?

The answer to those questions is a bit hard for me to swallow.  I know God can use me in the midst of my pain, but my daily heartache makes it incredibly hard to see past my circumstances.  I want to be used, but my humanity keeps getting in the way.  There are many days when I can barely keep my head above water, which is something I so desperately want to change.  I'm tired of being sad.  I am weary and emotionally exhausted. 

I want more out of my life than to just survive it. I know there's so much more than what my eyes can see right now.  I can rest in the fact that now is not forever, but I need to remember that now is when God wants to use me.  I'm not sure how, or what it's going to look like when He does, but my prayer is for Him to use me where I am -- in spite of my pain.  I truly believe that He will if I let Him... and if I ask for His grace to change me and give me the strength that only He can give. 

More to This Life
by Steve Curtis Chapman

Today I watched in silence as people passed me by,
And I strained to see if there was something hidden in their eyes;
But they all looked at me as if to say
Life just goes on.

The old familiar story told in different ways,
Make the most of your own journey from the cradle to the grave;
Dream your dreams tomorrow because today
Life must go on.

But there’s more to this life than living and dying,
More than just trying to make it through the day;
More to this life, more than these eyes alone can see,
And there’s more than this life alone can be.

Tonight he lies in silence staring into space,
And looks for ways to make tomorrow better than today,
But in the morning light it looks the same;
Life just goes on.

He takes care of his family, he takes care of his work,
And every Sunday morning he takes his place at the church;
And somehow he still feels a need to search,
But life just goes on.

But there's more to this life than living and dying,
More than just trying to make it through the day;
More to this life, more than these eyes alone can see,
And there’s more than this life alone can be.

So where do we start to find every part
Of what makes this life complete;
If we turn our eyes to Jesus we’ll find
Life’s true beginning is there at the cross where He died.
He died...

To bring us more to this life than living and dying,
More than just trying to make it through the day;
More to this life, more than these eyes alone can see,
And there’s more than this life alone can be.

Fix-it Man

You know those guys who can fix just about anything?  That's my dad.  When I was growing up we never called an electrician.  We never used a plumber.  We never took our cars to a mechanic.  He was the house painter, roofer, appliance repairman, jeweler and every tradesman in between.  My dad fixed everything.  Okay, perhaps not *everything*, but it certainly seemed this way from a child's perspective, and there was something very reassuring about that.  Even now that I'm grown and married, I will still occasionally come to him with something that is in need of repair. 

There is one broken thing in my life right now that I know he'd fix if he could, but it's something that not even the best of doctors have been able to cure. 

My infertility. 

Oh how I wish I could place my broken body in his gentle hands, just like I did with a tangled necklace or busted toy when I was a little girl. 

I know my dad's heart breaks for me.  He doesn't have to verbalized this; he and I have a connection that often allows us to communicate without words.  What father wouldn't be deeply grieved to watch his daughter go through the most heartbreaking experience of her life, while he stands by utterly helpless to alleviate that pain?

A few weeks ago my dad was at our house to drop off a bookcase.  As he climbed in his van to leave, he paused and asked me if there was a specific shop where I was planning to take my digital piano to be repaired.  I answered his question about the repair shop and then he said, "I'm going to get your piano fixed."

"You don't have to," I said.

"I know.  But I want to." 

At that moment, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and that telltale giant lump in my throat.  I could read in his pain-filled eyes, words that didn't have to be spoken.  His eyes said he was tired of seeing his little girl in pain, and he so desperately wished he could repair her broken body. 

His eyes said, "As much as I wish I could fix you, I can't.  Please let me fix this." 

Thank you, Daddy.  I wish you could, too.  I love you. 

♥

Hope

It's amazing to me that with the ending of one year and the beginning of a new one, I still find myself hopeful. 

Maybe this year will be different.  

Maybe this will be the year God gives me a child. 

You'd think that after 6 years I would have completely given up hope, but for some reason it's there. 

It keeps coming back.

Like heartburn.  ;o)

I'm not an overly optimistic person.  I don't think I'm a pessimist, but I do consider myself to be a realist.  When you look at all the facts in evidence, I shouldn't be very hopeful about 2011.  It actually annoys me a little that I am, especially considering what a difficult year 2010 was.

But the bottom line is that I'd rather have a sliver of hope than not have any at all.  Being completely devoid of hope would be a miserable way to live.  Which makes me sad for those who live without the hope of Christ.  I can't imagine living this life without the hope of heaven.  What would be the point?  But people do it every day.  When you take that into consideration, my hope to be a mother is insignificant, yet it cannot be ignored.  It is a God-given, natural longing, and the strongest desire of my heart. 

Ultimately, my hope rests in God.  He holds the future in His hands, and there's nothing I can do to change that.  Nor would I want to.  I have this verse hanging on my bathroom mirror, as a reminder of this.  I particularly like the way it reads in The Message, because it makes me feel like God is talking directly to me:

"I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for."  Jeremiah 29:11

Perhaps that's why I hope.  God has a plan for my life.  It's obviously not turning out exactly the way I planned it, but it really wasn't mine to plan. 

God knows what He's doing.  He has it all planned out. 


And who knows...  Maybe it is part of His plan for me to become a mom next year. 

Maybe this next year will be different. 

Friday Five

I realize I have been neglectful of my blog this week.  I hope you can forgive me.  You know, since I typically blog consistently and frequently.  And now that my apology is out of the way...  ;o)

1. I went shopping with some of my awesome HP girls on Sunday.  I wasn't going for the retail therapy, but simply to enjoy being with friends.  And apparently to eat a giant, chocolate cream horn. 

Later on Leesha and I went to Ted's Montana Grill for dinner.  The next day they closed down all the Ted's locations in the KC area.  That may or may not have been our fault.

2. My MIL always gives me money for my birthday, with which I often purchase clothing.  Somewhere along the line while I was in the process of losing weight, my mindset changed when it came to spending money on clothes.  Since what I was buying would only fit me temporarily, I refused to get anything that wasn't dirt cheap.  Even now, when I am somewhat content with my size, I can't imagine ever being okay with buying clothes the way I used to.  Case in point, this girl who hated thrift stores when she was growing up spent almost 3 hours in one on Monday night, and spent all her birthday money on used clothes.  And she's unbelievably happy with her purchases!  I may post more about that excursion at another time.  :o)

3. On Tuesday night, I decided to stop by the grocery store on my way home from work to pick up a few items.  I didn't feel like making dinner by the time I was done, so I went through the Arby's drive-thru.  And of course, the guy forgot to give me our curly fries.  I had already pulled forward, and there was a car behind me, so I turned off the car to go inside.  Apparently, turning off the car was a big mistake, because once I got back it wouldn't start.  Fortunately, I was only minutes from home, so Scott came to my rescue.  We couldn't get it jump started, so the manager and Mr. I-Forgot-Your-Curly-Fries (grrrr!) came out and helped us push it out of the way.  After transferring our groceries to the Jeep, we went home, ate our cold food, and then came back to try again.  This time it started and we were able to get the car home.  Yay!  Long story a smidge shorter, we got a new battery the next day, and all is well with the car again.  It was really inconvenient for the car battery to die when it did because we were planning to take the Jeep in that night for some minor repairs while it was still under warranty. Thankfully, the car fiasco only delayed us by one day, and my Jeep is back to normal.  ♥

4.  I had a birthday this week.  I have never been a fan of birthdays.  I don't enjoy being the center of attention, especially when I haven't done anything to deserve it.  I mean, really... all I did was survive another year, right?  And not by my own doing.  ;o)  On top of that, birthdays are just incredibly hard when you're infertile.  Every year that passes by is a reminder that you've gone ANOTHER year with empty arms.  Last year I turned 35, and that was particularly difficult.  I was anticipating this one being awful as well, but oddly enough...  it wasn't.  I had a great birthday, thanks in part to all the friends who made me feel special.  Three in particular (you know who you are!).  ♥  Honestly, I don't remember feeling sad at all that day.  And that alone was enough to make it awesome.  :o)

5.  My friend Dawn got a kitten.  Isn't he precious??  Don't you want one?? 

Meet Fuego!

She got him on my birthday, so I decided to post the following as my status that day: 

"My friend Dawn is getting a kitten for my birthday! Just think how many homeless kitties would be saved if all of my Facebook friends followed her lead! ;o) That would make me a very happy birthday-girl! ♥"

As far as I know, she's the only one of my friends who got a kitten for my birthday.  :o(

Oh well.  At least I tried.  

Have I mentioned how cute he is???

NINE

Nine years ago today, I married the love of my life.  And I'm so happy that I did.  I really, truly am.  I love Scott with all my heart, and can't imagine a more perfect match for me.

But even in the midst of this happiness, a little sadness has wormed its way into my heart.  I feel guilty for even admitting that, because I have single friends who would be perfectly content to be in a healthy, loving relationship.

Somewhere along the line, infertility changed my viewpoint on celebrations such as these.  I wish this weren't true, but with every anniversary... every birthday... every Christmas... I am reminded that yet another year has gone by... another milestone has passed... without a child in our lives.  And unless you've experienced it yourself, you can't imagine how much that hurts.  Former First Lady Laura Bush understands this pain, and she describes it more eloquently than I ever could:

"The English language lacks the words 'to mourn an absence.' For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful, some not. Still, we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only 'I am sorry for your loss.' But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent, ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?"

I never in my worst nightmare imagined that I'd be married NINE years and not have a child.

Yet, here I am.

Here we are.

I am incredibly thankful that Scott & I are in this together.  I know that sounds silly, since I obviously wouldn't be struggling with infertility if I weren't married.  What I mean is that I'm glad that Scott is the one that is on this journey with me.  We are stronger together, and I can't imagine going through this without him.

I'm not posting all of this to get sympathy or advice.  Neither of those things can fix the situation we are in.  I know God has a plan, and I'm trying to wait on Him and trust that plan.  But the waiting is hard.  And today's society makes it even harder.  Everywhere I look there are constant, daily reminders that make it impossible to ignore the fact that I do not have a child.  I'm learning to cope with that.  But when these milestones come, it gets increasingly harder. Especially when with each year, another nail is hammered into the coffin that is my womb (anyone have one I can borrow??).  ;o)

I sent an email to a friend a year ago, expressing how difficult anniversaries were becoming, and she suggested I make a list of things about my husband that I am grateful for, one for each year we have been married.  So, this is my NINE:

1. He loves me just the way I am.  I was a "fat girl" when he married me, and he would have been 100% satisfied with me if I had never lost any weight.  I love him for that.  ♥
2. He is driven and always trying to better himself.
3. He pulls his weight around the house.  The chores are pretty much split 50-50, although often I feel like he does more than me...
4. He's just the right amount of lazy, which makes this lazy girl feel less lazy!
5. He makes me laugh.
6. He's an animal lover.
7. He tolerates my crazy mood swings, but will call my bluff if he needs to.
8. He's cute.  :o)
9. He's smart.  I mean really smart.  Like I-don't-know-how-all-that-knowledge-fits-into-one-brain smart.  You should be impressed.

Well, that was more than enough sap and gloominess for one day, wasn't it?  I promise not to go off on tangents with too much frequency.  Sometimes it's just nice to dump out all the thoughts that are whirling around in my head, whether they end up making sense or not!  :o)

If you're a sucker for sap and just can't get enough, check out this Michael Bublé song.  It has kind of become the theme song for where Scott & I are in our lives right now:

Didn't they always say we were the lucky ones.
I guess that we were once, babe, we were once,
but luck will leave you cursed, it is a faithless friend,
and in the end, when life has got you down,
you've got someone here that you can wrap your arms around.

So hold on to me tight,
hold on to me tonight.
We are stronger here together,
than we could ever be alone.
So hold on to me,
don't you ever let me go.

There's a thousand ways for things to fall apart,
but it's no ones fault, no it's not my fault.
Maybe all the plans we made might not work out,
but I have no doubt, even though it's hard to see.
I've got faith in us, and I believe in you and me.

So hold on to me tight.
Hold on, I promise it will be alright.
Cuz it's you and me together,
and baby all we've got is time.
So hold on to me,
hold on to me tonight.

There's so many dreams that we have given up.
Take a look at all we've got,
and with this kind of love,
and what we've got here is enough.

So hold on to me tight.
Hold on, I promise it will be alright.
Cuz we are stronger here together,
than we could ever be alone.
Just hold on to me,
don't you ever let me go.
Hold on to me, it's gonna be alright.
Hold on to me tonight.

They always say, we were the lucky ones.

We Met Online

In case you didn't know, my husband and I met online.  Long before internet dating became all the rage we connected in an AOL chat room.  And the rest is history.  Mostly good history.  ;o) 

I chatted with a lot of people (okay, I'll admit they were mostly guys!) before I met Scott, so online relationships are not new to me.  Most of my online interactions were positive, as I used good judgment and was appropriately cautious.  This was a totally new world for me, and little did I know that chat rooms were just the beginning of my new online experience.  Soon I was regularly emailing with my friends, eventually I started blogging, then came Facebook, and now I'm back to blogging again.  But there's one little detail I'm leaving out of this timeline... 

A year ago August, I found myself at a very crucial point in my struggle with infertility.  Scott and I had been trying to start a family for several years, and we'd finally come to the realization that this wasn't going to happen for us without medical intervention.  I honestly don't know why it took so long to face this reality, since I'd already had two surgeries behind me at that point (and it was probably good that I didn't know there were 3 more to come).  It was during this very difficult time in my life that God led me to the online community forums at Hannah's Prayer Ministries (HP). 

In the beginning, my interactions at HP were limited.  I was recovering from major surgery and getting ready to start a new job, so establishing myself in this online community wasn't my top priority.  I gradually began exploring more, and soon I realized that I had found an invaluable resource and a tremendous new support system.  As much as I love my IRL (in real life) friends -- and I do have some absolutely amazing friends!! -- nobody can truly understand the struggles of being infertile unless they have experienced it themselves. 

Honestly, I would have been 100% content if resources and support was all I got out of HP.  But somewhere along the line, something else started developing that I never saw coming.  Friendships.  Deep, real friendships, with women I'd never even met (although I have met some of them at this point, and there are others that I desperately want to meet!).  I'm not sure why it surprised me so much that I could establish these kinds of friendships online, especially since that's how I met my husband, but before I knew it I was crying with those who were hurting, praying fervently for specific needs of various individuals, and laughing myself silly over stories we shared with each other.  It amazed me how we could connect so closely with just the common bonds of Christ and infertility. 

I could go on, but suffice it to say that HP has made a huge difference in my life this past year, and I can't imagine going through all of the struggles I've been through without those amazing women by my side. I feel like I am a better person today than I was a year ago, which is only by the grace of God. I am closer to Him than I have been in years and HP has been very instrumental in that process.

This journey has in no way been easy.  Far from it.  There are plenty of days when I want to curl up in a ball and ignore the world.  But HP has made it just a touch easier.  It's hard to put into words just how much this ministry means to me.  Let's just say if I had to choose between the online communities of HP and Facebook, HP would win hands down.  And that's saying a lot coming from a Facebook junkie like me.  ;o)  God knew exactly what I needed when He guided me to that community.  And even if I never have children, this journey was completely worth it just to meet these amazing ladies.  I love you, girls.  <3

-E

Not Sure Why I'm Doing This...

I tried blogging once before, but found that I didn't have much to say.  I mean, I can talk about nothing until everyone is bored to tears, but to actually come up with something interesting?  That can be a bit challenging.  My life hasn't changed much since my first blogging attempt, so I'm not quite sure why I feel compelled to try it again.  But here I am...

A little disclaimer:  This blog won't be anything overly profound, I can promise you that.  It's just a place for me to process my thoughts into words.  I'm guessing some of my posts -- okay, perhaps a lot -- will be about my pets.  There's bound to be a few TV-related posts (Hello.  My name is Esther and I am a television addict.)  There will be picture posts, food posts, and posts about my weight-loss journey.  Plus any other mundane detail of my life that I deem post-worthy.

I'm sure I will also talk about my infertility and how much I desperately long to be a mother.  My goal is not to allow this to be an overwhelming theme, but right now it is an ever-present aspect of my life that I cannot escape -- not even in my dreams.  So, please bear with me as I try to sort through this phase of my life.  I am trying to rest in the fact that God is sovereign, and His will reigns no matter what.