The worst thing about infertility is the monthly tug of war at your heart. Spending 3 weeks swimming in the hope that it might finally happen, only to be drowned in the 4th wk. It doesn’t matter whether you’ve been trying for 3 months or 3 years, each let down feels like a fresh wound that’s been opened and rubbed with salt.
I’ve given more blood in the last few months than I’ve given in my entire life. And, so far, the only answers I have are that my right ovary is an over achiever and Lefty is laissez-faire. Oh, and I ovulate too late… Like way too late.
There are times when fashionably late is a good thing. Could someone tell my eggs that this is not one of those times?
I need those suckers to cooperate.
The number of emotions that I feel on any given month ranges from hopeful – daydreaming about dirty diapers and tiny feet, to devastated – feeling foolish for ever thinking I could be a mother.
Today’s emotion is anger. I’m angry at my body for not being good enough.
And, the one thing that keeps going through my mind is a question:
Why would I have this sudden and insane desire for a child if it wasn’t meant to be? Why now? Why, after all the years of never having any type of desire, do I yearn for a child?
I’ve prayed so much. For answers. For God to take this desire away if it’s not meant for me.
He hasn’t responded yet.
But then again, sometimes getting no answer is an answer.
So, here I am in a hallway, waiting for a door to be opened, and being transparent with all of you fine folks, because I feel that someone else out there needs to read this. I’m not giving up. If there’s anything I know, it’s how to be relentless. So, I can’t control this… I can still believe earnestly in everything I know to be true:
He will give me the desires of my heart – Ps 37:4
Trust God and lean not unto my own understanding – Prov 3:5
To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose – Ecc 3:1
He gives children to the woman who has none and makes her a happy mother. – Ps 113:9