It’s no secret that Neil and I have struggled with infertility for years now. It’s not something that I am ashamed of, afraid to talk about, or to answer questions about. In fact, I now welcome those who are interested because I think infertility is often misunderstood. It’s not something that should be kept secret or hidden. It should be shared because this isn’t something we can handle on our own. God didn’t make us to struggle alone. I have found strength from others sharing their infertility journey and I pray that someone can find strength from me sharing mine.
I no longer feel ashamed that I can’t do the one thing I was put on this earth to do. But I did for a long time. I questioned everything I knew. Being a nurse sucks like that when you’re not “healthy”. When your body doesn’t work as a nurse knows it should. I questioned God. Why was He taking us down this path? We did everything in the corrector order before we started trying to conceive. We are married (for almost 7 years now), have college degrees, have profitable careers (I have two), and own our own home. We have a substantial support group. We can handle this. I no longer question God (regularly). Both Neil and I, and many family members and friends, have prayed and prayed for our baby. I trust that God will give us a child when He’s ready. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. – Jeremiah 29:11
It’s also not something I cry about every day. Not anymore. But I use to. In the past, anything and everything would set me off emotionally. Making plans was risky because I never knew how I’d be feeling come that day or even time of day. Facebook held countless pregnancy announcements; even updates on established pregnancies of my close friends tore my heart apart. Through constant prayer and support from awesome friends, God has mended my heart. I now have a sort of strange peace about our situation.
But still, we struggle. Every day. We struggle to keep our hearts content and trusting in the Lord. I struggle to not slap the next teenager who announces their pregnancy. Disclaimer to close friends and family: Please dear God do not withhold that kind of information from me. I understand your attempts to shield me and protect my feelings but I will find out eventually and it’ll only hurt more because I found out when you were 10 weeks along instead of 5 weeks when you were telling others.
And still, I don’t love to talk about it. I’m not even sure I like to talk about it. But it’s important. It’s important to talk about it because talking about it makes it feel real. And making it feel real will continue to help me heal.
I’ve been going back and forth, debating on whether I should talk about our IVF journey – when it starts, etc. Part of me wants to keep it a secret because if it doesn’t work, people will still be asking if it did. And that will just kill me. But another part of me wants to let people in because it’s not fair, to me or to those around me, for me to act like everything’s OK when it most definitely is not. I haven’t come to a decision yet.