inside my infertility

The words, “I’m pregnant,” evoke contradictory emotions as I hear them. Genuine happiness for the speaker. Genuine sorrow and pity for myself. Another friend, sister, or relative entering that sacred sisterhood that I would join in a heartbeat if I only knew how to convince my body to let me. 

Sometimes hearing the news of another pregnancy fills me with disappointment, mixed with a healthy dose of guilt and shame … for feeling disappointed. The injustice of my suffering engulfs me. How can I NOT feel happy for my dear, highly capable friends who have been given the opportunity to parent? On the other hand, how does God allow so many children to enter the world to mothers who are unprepared or unwilling and denies me the privilege, even when I’ve prepared my whole life for that ennobling purpose? 

These feelings creep up and then they pass. They creep up when I hear someone say, “We tried for a few months to get pregnant and the wait was so difficult.” (A. FEW. MONTHS? In the back of my mind: “Try waiting for three years…”). They creep up at baby showers when the time comes for each woman in the room to give advice to the new mother. (In the back of my mind: “What kind of advice can I contribute?”). They creep up with little comments like, “I never knew real, Christ-like love until I had my first child.” (In the back of my mind: “Will I never get to experience real, Christ-like love?).

But those feelings pass. Ryan and I are enjoying this time that we have to spend just with each other, and we have loved the flexibility of our current situation. I find immense joy and satisfaction as a Kindergarten teacher.

So, unexplained infertility--and the contradictory emotions that come with it--is complex. It’s difficult … even though it’s not a life threatening illness and doesn’t feel that hard at times. There are no visible side effects and my life is basically normal. I suppose it is a little lonely … because nobody talks about it (even if they have struggled with fertility, too). Infertility is a deep expectation unmet that is totally beyond my control. And, I’ll admit … it hurts a little bit.

But I believe that the purpose of this life is to become more like God. AND if I am to be like God, I cannot live forever in fear that I will face a trial that will hurt. Christ suffered everything so that He could sit with me in my suffering. He’s been there. He knows me and will give me peace. I know I am already a “mother” to so many, and I know that motherhood is in my future. That’s pretty exciting! Because of Christ, whatever heartache I experience along the way will be for my good.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart … and he shall direct thy paths.”