Lonely....

It's not fair....It shouldn't bother me so much.

I knew it was coming.....

Ok, so I'm bitter......terribly, terribly bitter.

Heard another birth announcement today. This one was at church. In the middle of the class I was teaching, and it was incredibly difficult to hear. I've known it was coming. I knew it was getting close.... but it still felt like someone hit me in the stomach.

I'm wallowing tonight. I'm so impatient. I've tried so hard to see the good through this wait, and my circumstances. But when something like this happens, it just makes me mad. Mad at myself - is it something I'm doing to make this take longer? Mad at my doctors - I've been to a few now...what if the first one had diagnosed me correctly 3 years ago? Would we even still be here? Mad at my finances....we're getting to the point that if this doesn't work soon, we'll be forced to decide between adoption and the hope of having a biological child. When you're talking $15 - $20 thousand dollars for one or the other (these are REAL numbers), most people can't do both.

Mostly, though, I'm lonely. Terribly so. I've never felt so alone in my life and I HATE it. No one seems to understand. Kevin tries, but he freely admits he just can't understand it. Some of my family tries, but they've never been through it. No one at church seems to get it - they (like some of my family) just ignore the elephant in the room. I long so much for someone who GETS IT. Who will let me talk about it without making me feel like I'm whining. Who won't try to "fix it" but will just listen and commiserate. Who won't tell me they're "sure it'll work soon". No one knows that.....no one can "fix it"....I just need someone who gets it and isn't uncomfortable about it and itching to change the subject.

I read a quote the other day that says "the problem with infertility is that I am mourning children that do not exist and I'm the only one who misses them." That just about sums it up. I'm continually mourning someone who doesn't exist....never has and may not ever. People don't seem to understand that. They can't understand how I can feel such an attachment and such a loss from something that doesn't exist, but I do. When someone loses a loved one, you often hear that they want to talk about that person...to remember them. Well, I do too....unfortunately it's not something most people can understand, and because they have never known this person (since they don't actually exist), they can't commiserate with me.

All that said...I heard this song by Ginny Owens on the way home from church tonight. While it has always been a song that speaks to me.....I heard it through my "infertility filter" tonight, and it took on a whole new meaning.....

The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why you brought me here
But just because you love me the way that you do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If you want me to

Chorus:
Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise you're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will go through the fire
If you want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When you lead me through a world thats not my home
But you never said it would be easy
You only said I'd never go alone

So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I cant hear you answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering your love put you through
And I will go through the valley
If you want me to

Waiting....

Waiting.....it's always been difficult for me.

Always.

I've never had much patience - I've always been the one to forge ahead, had to be first in line, first to do anything. It's been one of the hardest things about this journey through infertility.

I never dreamed when we decided to start our family shortly after our wedding in 2004, that we'd still be here 2 1/2 years later....never.

I came across the poem below on an infertility forum that that I frequent, Hannah's Prayer.
It brings tears to my eyes every time I read it. It describes my struggles so well. I get frustrated so easily by the wait, but I have seen that God is working during this wait, and while I may not like it, and want to cry and scream and get angry, I'm being refined. I'm learning to trust God through good times and bad. I'm learning that he is in charge, and He sees the full picture that I cannot, and may not ever know this side of heaven.

Kevin and I have learned so much about each other, and this struggle, while I can easily see how it tears marriages apart, has served to strengthen our marriage in ways we never dreamed possible. So, while I'd gladly end this journey tomorrow if I could, I cannot discount the impact it has had on our lives. We're not the same people we were when we started....and we can never go back. We've questioned, we've doubted, we've grieved....but, we're stronger for it. God has been faithful - He never promised an easy journey, only that He'd be with us every step of the way, and He has.

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate...
and the Master so gently said,"Wait."

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!"
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

My future and all to which I relate
hangs in the balance and you tell me to Wait?"
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign.
Or even a 'no,' to which I'll resign.

You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply.

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
as my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
and grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine...
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
you'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
when darkness and silence are all you can see.

You'd never experience the fullness of love
when the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

The glow of My comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

You'd never know should your pain quickly flee,
what it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
but oh, the loss if I lost what I'm doing in you.

So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still "WAIT".

- Russell Kelfer