Thursday, July 16, 2015

I Know Your Pain

I know your pain.

You look at your FaceBook feed and it seems as if every single woman you know is getting pregnant... except you.

You count the days, hours and minutes until you can take your next pregnancy test, hold on to hope, and there it is again- a negative sign or worse, your period. You sit in a bathroom trying to breathe wondering how it is possible to still have tears to cry and wondering if this pain will ever cease.

You walk into the grocery store on a normal day and watch a new mother put her new baby in a cart and out of nowhere you are struck like lightning with so much pain that you turn around, walk out, get in your car and drive home.

You're sitting in church on Mother's Day and a sweet video begins to play celebrating all things mothers are, but simply pointing out all things you are not and you stand quietly and walk briskly, once again, to the bathroom. You sit on the floor in a puddle of your own tears until the service is over.

Happily celebrating birthdays and Christmas has become a thing of the past because these days are an even harsher reminder that you are another year older and you are still not a mother.

You're angry.

You're jealous.

You hurt all the time.

You've lost all hope.

I know your pain.

I know it far too well.

I will not tell you that the pain of infertility disappears when you make the decision to adopt, that would be lying. What I will tell you is that the hope that comes back is bigger and brighter than you ever imagined.

Making the decision to adopt came slow for me. It came after a realization that my desire to be a parent was bigger than my desire to be pregnant. It came after spending time reading other adoptive mother's stories and picturing myself in their shoes. It came after a lot of prayer alone and a lot of prayer with my husband.

When people ask me why Jeremy and I cannot have biological children I tell them it doesn't matter. Our "brand" of infertility may be unique but we are not. There are so many couples struggling with this heavy pain, and my heart breaks for each and every one of them.

I never thought I would say this, but I'm now grateful for our story and I wouldn't have it written any other way. I feel like in the end this struggle has made my marriage stronger, brought me closer to God in the most intimate way and will ultimately give us OUR son or daughter. When I look at him or her, I know in my heart I will thank God for infertility and for a chance to become this little soul's mother.

For years I have held onto eight little words God would speak into my heart when I was at my lowest. He would whisper: "I can't wait for you to meet them." 

If you are going through this pain, I want you to know I am praying for you. Don't give up. Your babies are on their way and whether they come from your body or another woman's they were always meant to be YOURS and I can't wait for you to meet them! 





Want to hear our whole story? Watch this four minute video:

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