Finding Humor in our Conception Struggles

Dear Child of Mine,

I have to be honest with you. While the issue of infertility is very painful, and our desire to have you is very real, sometimes I switch things up and lighten the mood. I'm sure I throw people off by the things I am able to joke about. But I figure laughter really is good for the heart, and I shouldn't take myself (or my problems) too seriously. 

Our friends, Randy and Sheryl, have a quilt on their couch that was made for them years ago (four kids ago) by a lady who described it as a "fertility quilt." (Obviously the quilt worked for them!) This concept has always struck me as funny, but every once and a while when we're visiting together, I really get the giggles about this quilt. When Sheryl asked me if I'd like a blanket, I looked at Kevin and said, "BRING ON THE FERTILITY QUILT!" Yes, we were all laughing!

Then, the other night I gathered in the church library with 5 other church leaders, including your dad, in a meeting to discuss plans for the Christmas Eve services and holiday decorating strategies. I arrived at the meeting 10 minutes late because I had to speed walk (literally) from my piano studio after 4 hours of lessons, and then I would be heading straight from this meeting to my Wednesday night vespers gathering. All good things, but bam, bam, bam, one right after the other.

By the end of the meeting I was getting a little slap happy. (This happens to your mother when she's low on energy, sleep, and/or patience. I figure it's better alternative grumpiness.) After we closed in prayer (as every good church meeting does), I happened to catch a glance of this book on the shelf behind me:

Without thinking, I blurted out for the whole group to hear -

"This book is titled Making Children Mind Without Losing Yours, but I TOTALLY thought it said Making Children Without Losing Your Mind."

Everyone erupted in laughter, with expressions of slight shock and a teeny bit of embarrassment thrown in. Had the title of the book really been Making Children Without Losing Your Mind it would have been incredibly appropriate for your dad and I. Oh the satire was just too rich!

I share this story so that you know I'm not always uptight. I'm not always super spiritual. I'm not always thinking critically. Sometimes I'm just plain ridiculous.

I hope you'll appreciate my oddities as much as your dad does (most of the time.)

Love,
Your Mama



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A New Blog Audience

Dear child for whom I pray,

Do you know the depths of my heart's longing to be your mother?

I have dreamed of you since I myself was a young girl, playing "house" with my dolls, pretending they were my very own baby. A girl of just 2 or 3 years old, I often clung to my dolly, as if there was something hidden away in the corner of my being, calling me to motherhood. Twenty-five years later and that calling feels like a desperate plea.



To the best of my ability I nurtured my own mother when she was sick on the couch with another one of her debilitating migraines. I bossed around my little sister and tended to her needs even when she'd rather do it on her own. Perhaps it was my firstborn placement in the family, my lineage of being Type A, or even a God-given leadership ability in the seedling stage, but my instincts are to care and provide for others.

Here I am in my 5th year of youth ministry and I know I have many, many children. I love each of them deeply, but someday I hope I can know the love only a mother can have for her own.

For now, I make you, my dear sweet child, the recipient of my blog writing. I want to share with you my favorite recipes, advice for how to be a teenager in this crazy mixed up world, what fun your dad and I have on vacations, and so much more. I pray my letters will be read by you one day, but for now they will serve to soothe my ache and bring joy, laughter, and encouragement to anyone else who happens upon them.

Love,
Mama

My Multitude of Children

Seeing as how it's Mother's Day, I thought I would share some pictures of the children God has blessed me with over the past 5 years. Though I may not yet (or ever) have biological children of my own, my life is rich, filled with dozens of kids who become an integral part of my heart's beating. I love each of these fiercely, with a passion and protectiveness that mirrors a mother's. And from their own lips these beautiful children reciprocate this relationship with me as they tell me how much they love me or when they ask me to fill in as their mom in a classroom activity or by writing me Mother's Day cards.

Last year was a darker, more painful encounter with Mother's Day, being reminded of what I don't have, but today I am grateful to be relying more closely on the fullness of Jesus and recognizing the multitude of blessings He has poured out on me.

These sweet girls are somehow like daughters and sisters to me.

My three T kids, who I mothered for two weeks in March

My Maddie on her birthday

My Kate, Viv, Olivia, Riley

My massive family with whom I spent those 3 beautiful years with in Michigan

A return Michigan visit with those Crazy Kids.

For two years, I have spent my Thursday Morning with these lovelies
(babysitting at Morning Moms.)

My Michigan Heartbeat

My precious Jillian

My sweet Amelia baby, born the day we moved to NY, we have a beautiful bond.

My Tess, Calandra, Arella and Catherine. Such sweet spirits. 

My Tilly, Hailey, Riley, and KayKay. Love them in my life. 

And to the mothers of all of these beautiful children of mine, thank you so much for sharing their lives with me. I am sure it's not easy to allow another woman to pour into your baby's life and become deeply connected with them. But you let me in, you encourage me along the way, and I feel so loved and appreciated by each of you. 

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Lest I not to mention how thankful I am for the two moms I have, I am reflecting on the truth of the words I  wrote three years ago. Read here.

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Why is Adoption So Difficult?

The April 8th reading from Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest says,

Our Lord's Resurrection destiny is to bring "many sons unto glory." The fulfilling of His destiny gives Him the right to make us sons and daughters of God. We are never in the relationship to God that the Son of God is in; but we are brought by the Son into the relation of sonship. 

As Kevin and I were reading that day's devotional together, it brought to my mind an answer to question I had been pondering concerning adoption. Why is adoption so expensive, why does the process take so long, why is there so much pain involved? Perhaps adoption needs to be a long and painful process for us just as it was for our God. 

Romans 8:15 (and other New Testament passages) proclaims the adoptive relationship we have Yahweh.

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.”

And how did we receive that Holy Spirit, friends? But through the sacrifice offered by our adoptive Father himself - giving his son to humanity, watching his torturous crucifixion, being forced to turn his back on Jesus because our sin was so black, and then sealing our adoption through the supernatural bodily resurrection and ascension of that same Christ. 

All for us. 

He wanted to invite us into his family, to be his sons and daughters, so desperately that he did more than wait a year or two, sign papers, deal with heartbreak and devastation, sign more papers, and finally bring that child home. No. God waited for thousands of years as his children rejected him, then gave him hope that they might possibly draw near to him, only be saddened again by their disobedient disdain. After centuries of waiting, he offered part of himself - his Son (the son who was already in perfect communion with him, who would never disappoint him or leave him, never disobey him) - as payment for our adoption. 

Ok, so I guess the thousands of dollars, the piles of papers, and the months of waiting really can't compare.

Lord Jesus, if you call us to adopt, please keep this perspective fresh in our hearts. Amen. 

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The Almost Adoption

My heart is in that hurting sort of place. I knew these kind of days would resurface, even after coming to a place of peace and contentment with our childlessness. But it seems to be impossible to completely ignore the desire and if I lost all hope that may not even be healthy, I don't know.

Keeping the balance between hopefulness and contentment is where Jesus must come in. 

But in these moments of sadness and wanting, of deepest yearning and tears, I thought I would share with you another portion of our journey down the road of infertility. (This particular story was hinted at in this post all those months ago.) Come with me, won't you, to June 2012? The days were extremely hot and our house was kept shaded by the closed drapes. In the midst of the heat I wasn't exactly thinking about options to expand our family, but then one presented itself. 

A dear friend of ours said she had an urgent matter to discuss with us and asked if she could come over for a visit. Our minds were racing, scrambling through the possibilities. You see, this friend was one of the only people with whom we'd share our interest in adoption. She was most certainly coming to us with a related circumstance. 

Wasting no time, she laid out the situation - There was a 19 year old girl, from a good family, living in a nearby town and attending community college. She had just found out that she was pregnant, eight months pregnant. This young girl, who was likely scared out of her whits, wanted to give her unborn child a wonderful adoptive home to be a part of and she was wanting to do an independent adoption. The baby could be born within the next four weeks, so if we interested in this opportunity we would have to move quickly. 

Before we knew it, Kevin and I were alone in our living room, staring at each other and wondering, "What now?" 

You should know we had done absolutely nothing to prepare for the possibility of adoption. All we knew was this is normally a long, detailed process, and we weren't sure how to begin. For the next four days we operated in turbo mode. We found an adoption attorney (we had never had any experience with a lawyer of any kind), we paid a $2,000 retainer plus the $500 consultation fee, we communicated with a third party who was speaking on behalf of the 19 year old girl and her family, we filled out the paperwork, we contacted a social worker who was willing and able to do an expedited home study (for an increased sum of money, of course), we had references write letters of recommendation on our behalf, we wrote our own letter to the birth mother.

This was the fastest, scariest roller coaster we had ever been on. There were days (hours, really) that felt extremely defeated. There is no way we are going to be able to do this all in time. Then there were moments of hope. Oh my goodness, we have all of our ducks in a row, this could really be happening. 

And in the midst of all of these meetings and this turmoil, we had to decide whether or not we were going to join the Bible Quizzers for a week in Seattle. Ack. It certainly wouldn't look good to the birth mom if we skipped town at this crucial time. But we had heard nothing back from her or her lawyer since moving speedily forward on everything. We were playing a waiting game and had no idea which direction the mother was going to go. We had made commitments to quizzing (and the money had been paid) and we didn't want to back out of our responsibilities if nothing was going to come of this adoption scenario. Does one of us stay and one of us go? 

For a short while I was considering staying in town to work with the birth mother, and Kevin would go to Seattle. But after over a week of no communication from the family or the lawyers, we knew it wasn't looking good. And so rather hear the devastating news all alone, I opted to go with Kevin to Washington state. 

Thankfully this turned out to be the right decision. We finally heard from our lawyer the day we were flying back to Buffalo - The birth mother had decided to go with an agency adoption. The case was closed. The matter settled. I am still grateful for the lawyer we had chosen to work with. She was generous enough to return our $2,000 retainer since she had done no further work on our behalf. And I was able to spend a week not dwelling on the heartbreak and stress and anxiety of the pending situation. I was with my husband and our teens, and the other leaders on the trip proved to be wonderful encouragement to me as well. 

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And here we are, 10 months later. We are still interested in the pursuit of adoption, but we're not Dave-Ramsey-ready for that financial commitment. Our conversations on the subject continue and we are trying to make the choices that will be best for us and best for the child we bring home. 

But, dear friends, in the meantime you can pray. And please, if you know of someone who is looking for a Christian couple to adopt their unborn baby or infant, feel free to connect us to them. We are willing to wait for God's perfect timing in this process. 

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Contentment with Infertility (?!)

I left you hanging back in January when I wrote a post about the first and only round of infertility testing I have undergone. After many writing detours, I will return to the subject which stands in forefront of my mind and, because of your friendships, many of yours.

It has been another 4 months since the procedure which many were hopeful would clear up an unknown issue and result in pregnancy.

And, no, I have not yet conceived.

I am at the point of acceptance. I no longer face devastation month in and month out. Disappointment or sadness rise up occasionally, but my heart is not filled with the same negativity as the previous 31 months. Thanks to the grace of the Lord, I am experiencing contentment. 

True contentment has been allusive for so very long and couldn't be achieved because it was always accompanied by a deep down manipulation - "If I am ok with this situation and appear to be content with where God has me, surely he will bless me with what I really want."  It was still all about me.

I remember my husband talking with me all those months and years ago, counseling me to come to accept whatever plan the Lord has for our lives. I wasn't ready to hear that message and I was angry that he would consider recommending that for me. But these days, I have such a wonderful peace. I love where we're at and I'm actually excited to be used by God in whatever way He sees fit. If that means giving birth to our babies next year or ten years from now; if that means becoming foster parents or pursuing some form of adoption; if that means focusing all of our attention on the people we are called to minister to (be them teens or college students, kids or adults.) I welcome HIS plan. 

After many hours, many tears, and many prayers, we are both at peace with not pursuing fertility treatments. Since there is nothing medically dangerous going on with either of our bodies, we're going to leave natural childbearing up to our Sovereign God. If we become convinced adoption is the route God has for us, then we will be honored to pour our money into adopting and taking care of a child who has been brought into this world and is in need of care and love from parents like us. 

Pray. 

We would appreciate your continued prayers for us. Pray for wisdom, emotional strength, and obedience to God's plan. Pray for our future children, including those we may love like our own via ministry. Pray for our family, even if it remains the two of us. My desire for my own children has not diminished, and I still pray God will grant us our dream I just have peace about following any part of his plan. 

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God First, God Second, God Third.

As I journey down the path of infertility, of waiting and hoping, demanding and pouting, praying and seeking, I have finally begun to discover a purpose to all of this. --God himself has not been the point of my life, all along. He may have been a priority, even the first priority, but He has certainly not been my everything. I have conjured up needs that can only be met through children, as if I will only be who I'm created to be as a mother.

But wait. Didn't GOD create me? So how can I go about questioning Him and even replacing his place on the throne of my heart with my children?

I distinctly remember the moment of clarity I had, regarding my life's priorities. I was walking up the stairs and stopping suddenly, sharing this visionary statement with my husband.

"What if a reason for this infertility is God waiting for me to acknowledge my only worth is in him, not in my role as as a mother? My children will not give me a divine identity. That only comes from God." 

And there it was as clear as day--I needed to make Jesus my only. Although that deep moment of listening to God's call was a few months ago, it was only this morning that I saw an even deeper meaning-- it's not just about prioritizing my life and making God number one again.

Read these words by Oswald Chambers, quoted in Beth Moore's Breaking Free -

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord. — Isaiah 6:1

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Our soul’s history with God is frequently the history of the “passing of the hero.” Over and over again God has to remove our friends in order to bring Himself in their place, and that is where we faint and fail and get discouraged. Take it personally: In the year that the one who stood to me for all that God was, died – I gave up everything? I became ill? I got disheartened? or – I saw the Lord?

It must be God first, God second, and God third, until the life is faced steadily with God and no one else is of any account whatever. “In all the world there is none but thee, my God, there is none but thee.”

Keep paying the price. Let God see that you are willing to live up to the vision.

I was complete stricken with this statement, this life-altering view of seeking only God. And as we focus all on Jesus, but of course He will flow out of our hearts onto others, seeping from our very being.

All God.
Only God. 
No other priorities. 

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Does Giving Birth Make a Girl a Woman?

I had gathered with a large number of wonderful ladies and we were going around introducing ourselves. As part of the "about me" sentence, it was suggested that we share how many children we have and how old they are. Of all the women in the room (some younger than me), I was the only one childless. I held it together, but that moment of "I'm Melanie, and I don't have have any children" was raw and painful and even embarrassing. Did I belong?

Later that day, one of my friends, knowing my struggle, pondered, "When did our children become our identity?" A good question, indeed. 

For years now, I have wondered if I would ever been seen as a grown woman--adult, independent, responsible, able. I look young for my age (as in I am mistaken for a teenager on a weekly basis), so this doesn't help my case. But I have been on my own for nearly 10 years. Four and a half of those, I have been married, and together we've maintained a home, jobs, and a bank account. But I still feel like an "outsider" so often. 

So much of women's conversation revolves around their children; and for a good reason. I understand that being a mother does become much of a woman's identity and that her love for her babies is unmatched. But I can't participate in those discussions. I smile, of course, and I truly do enjoy hearing about my friends' children. I love playing with their kids, being called "My Melanie" by those little ones who love me dearly, seeing photo updates of their growth and reading stories of hilarious antics. 

But, no matter how welcoming my friends are & no matter how much I love being with them and their children, nothing can offer me entrance into the sacred club of motherhood other than a child of my own. 

And so, I remain the babysitter, the onlooker, the dreamer. 

How can I change the world's perception of me? Can I be a woman--fully alive, not lacking purpose-- even if I never have children? You might say, "But of course I see you as a peer, Melanie, as a friend." But there's nothing either of us can do to change the gap that exists. 

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Another Year Before Testing

Continued from Wednesday's post.


...And for the next 12 months, the lab requisitions stayed at the bottom of our metaphorical pile. We were in a new state, trying to make new friends, living with no health insurance. As upset as I was that we weren't conceiving, beginning the hunt for a good doctor, then paying for tests and treatments, and dealing with medical expenses and painful rigmarole just didn't seem feasible. In fact, it seemed insurmountable. 

Some friends couldn't understand how we were putting off this decision. Why wait to get some simple lab work done? What if it's a simple fix? I could totally understand their questions. I had similar thoughts floating around my brain. 

It was becoming clear that for as much as I wanted to start our family, or even just to know if it was going to be possible, we were becoming more and more content with how thing were. Just us. No strings attached. And I think there is a fear that still lingers--fear of the unknown, how things will change, what will be given up. Answers we can't know until that precious moment is granted us. 

But soon I realized I needed to have my yearly gyn appointment, at the very least. I did some asking around for names of doctors and finally settled on an office. I made my appointment, not knowing if I had made the right choice in a physician or not. When I left the exam room that day, I said, "That was the BEST doctor's appointment I have ever had." The exam only took 10 minutes, but she sat down and talked to me for at least 45 minutes more, finding out our story and talking about possible fertility solutions. She gave me laboratory requisitions--one for me, one for Kevin--with instructions on which hospitals to call. Additionally, she wrote a request for an HSG Fluoroscopy, a pricey procedure that was optional but would give us great insights into the workings of my organs. 

In true Kevin-and-Mel form, we put these procedures off, but only for a month this time. Both of us got our lab work done--with no questionable results to concern us. Yay! We knew we couldn't afford to get the  fluoroscopy procedure done at this point, so we were blessed beyond belief when a loved one offered to pay for the $800 x-ray. After a 15 minute procedure that was much quicker and MUCH MORE painful than I had anticipated, we already had our answers--my insides looked A-ok. 

Our wonderful doctor called me the next week to follow up on the exam results and, in doing so, ended up saving us the $100 office visit fee. Another gift! She said there were no issues with any of our tests so to give it two more months and come back for a follow-up if we hadn't yet conceived. 

Which brings us to the present. 

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read more about our journey through infertility. 

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The "Quick Fix" I Didn't Take

Can I just say what an amazing blessing it has been to finally talk about the "elephant" in my room? It's relief to not feel like I have to hide something, yes. But much beyond that, the outpouring of love, encouragement, and shared stories have been unexpected and beautiful. Thank you for being a friend. 

Proverbs 17:17

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.

There are many paths a couple can take when they're faced with infertility. Tests, bloodwork, temperature readings, exams, referrals, pills, injections, and the list goes on. Here is how our journey started.

Six months into TTC* I was getting a little concerned and mentioned something to my Ob/Gyn at my yearly exam. He assured me there wasn't anything to be concerned about; we were young and in good health. "Give it six more months and if you still haven't conceived at the year mark, come back and see me." As you know, the one year came around with no prospects of a baby, and back to the doctor I went. Unfortunately for me, he was at the hospital delivering someone else's baby (the nerve!) and I was going to see the nurse practitioner. 

*trying to conceive

Now, here's the thing. I have absolutely nothing against Nurse Practitioners. In fact, I rather like them. But this appointment was a BIG DEAL for me. I had officially crossed over the medical line into infertility. I wanted answers, guidance,  help, and most importantly someone who knew me and my story. This woman came in, heard my brief synopsis, looked over my ovulation tracker, deemed me "ovulatory" (a good thing) and then proceeded to write up a lab request for anovulation and a prescription for Clomid (pill for anovulation.)  Something just didn't add up! She wanted to give me a quick fix (for a problem it didn't appear I had) with a pill that has been known for crazy side effects (namely hormonal, but also risk for multiples). Between that uneasy feeling in my gut (this just doesn't seem right, Mel) and the fact we were packing up and moving our lives 3 states away just one month later, the paperwork was pushed to the bottom of the pile...

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Coming to Grips: August 2011

If this is the first time you've been to our blog (or if it's a been a while), let me say welcome. Pull up a chair, bring a mug of your favorite tea, and join us. Right now we are in the middle of sharing a very personal struggle. For the first time ever, we are publicly sharing the details of our on-going journey through infertility. Please feel free to read these previous posts before continuing.

31 Month Confession 

Journal Entry at the 12th Month

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Before we move to present struggles, glorious victories, and what in the world we've been doing to "treat" this for the past 2 years, here is a slightly-gut-wrenching journal entry I wrote almost a year and a half ago.

august 27, 2011

So much pain poured out in my prayer journal this morning. It was welling up inside of me--anxiety, hurt, fear--and it came flowing out in tears. 

Oh, God! Why are my insides pulling part, churning, convulsing? You are so, so good to me. And I don't know where this anxiety came from, Jesus. Give me clarity. Show me your peace. So much tension is welling up inside of me, God. 

What if we never have a baby? That is becoming more and more a reality to me. and my heart breaks. I am at a loss for words, tears streaming down my face. Feeling alone, like no one can really understand. "Just wait," they say, "It'll happen in God's time." Why do they lie to me, Father? They make up niceties to tickle my ears and give me a false sense of peace. But nothing says you will give me a child. NOTHING. 

2010. June. July. August. September. October. November. December. 2011. January. February. March. April. May. June. July. August. 

That's 15 months, God. And my hope is fading. Yesterday, I ordered a necklace form Lisa Leonard Designs with a gift card I won. I had been waiting and waiting to order one with ours and our baby's initials on it. But it has occurred to me, in a very real way, that this day might not ever come. Or, at the very least, I shouldn't sit and wait for it to happen. Because it might not. And what are we to do? Do we get tested? When? And then what?

Could it be this is what you have for us? Life together, without babies of our own?

And now that I ordered the necklace I feel it releases me to live my life without planning around a little one who may or may not ever be. A job--is this what you have for me? Saving for who knows what?--a house, but why? a car? missions? vacations? adoption? 

In any case, it doesn't matter. I can't sit hear, twiddling my thumbs, waiting and hoping and praying and putting all my stock in my plans to be a mother. What if I'm never a mom--like I have always dreamed I would be? What if I never get to push that beautiful red stroller or use those adorable onesies that I started buying over a year ago at garage sales. It made sense then. We were going to start trying. We were going to get pregnant. I might as well start preparing.

But I was so, so wrong. And all of that was wasted. How could I ever let myself get so wrapped up in a hope, a dream? Assumption. Expectation. 

But you never promised this. You only promised to be there, be HERE with me. Through the pain. Into the unknown. Transforming into beauty. 

Be here now, God. 

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Journal Entry at the 12th Month

God has been working wonders in my heart over the past two years as we've journeyed down the road of infertility, and I can't wait to share his goodness with you. But let's back up the story and visit something I wrote June 9, 2011 (a year and a half ago), when my heart was raw and aching after crossing that 12th month, you're-officially-considered-medically-infertile marker.

Tuesday, June 7th marked the 12th month of unsuccessful pregnancy attempts. Back in June 2010, Kevin was totally on board with the issue, but he wasn't REALLY looking forward to the prospect of reproducing until the New Year. I know he would have been totally stoked about any pregnancy, but it wasn't a deep desire for him until the last few months.  

I, on the other hand, have been longing for this time in life for years. I can remember playing "house" as a girl and wanting to be a mommy so badly. For many years, maybe even until I started dating Kevin, I thought the reason to get married was to HAVE kids--babies were the point, right? I have realized in the past 3 years of marriage, that babies are most certainly NOT the point of marriage.  

Children are going to be an enormous blessing--something we're going to be more thankful now than if we'd gotten pregnant lickity split.  

Children are an incredible responsibility--something I don't think we're ready for and never will be.

Children are an important form of obedience to God's creation command to "fill the earth"--and they will be our most important contributions to the Body of Christ. 

My heart so deeply desires children. The passion has grown and strengthened since we were first married and now, that's it taken so long and we've not gotten pregnant, there is a fear. What if this never happens to me? What if I'm that woman who is barren? What if I'm Hannah? 

We both thought it would be easy to get pregnant--that as soon as we decided to try, we'd conceive. Not. so. much. And all around us, our friends are getting pregnant and having babies. I could count 20 or 30 friends our age who have conceived and given birth since we started trying. And NONE OF THEM knew what we were going through. (We hadn't not told anyone but closest friends and family that we were trying.) We're extremely excited for each of them. But there's a pain in my heart every time I see someone else announce their good news.

But I have to come to terms (at least for today) with the fact that God is IN CONTROL--NOT ME. His timing and His planning is perfect. He knew the last 12 months of extended one-on-one marriage would be extremely important to our growth and maturity. We're going to be better parents because of it. He knew we'd be moving to New York, uprooting ourselves, starting seminary, becoming involved in a new church, finding our feet all over again. He knows what's down the road, that I can't possibly anticipate. He is SO GOOD. 

He gives and He takes away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

And now we wait, we pray, we seek guidance (from friends and family who've been there.) 

I remember very vividly the emotions I felt as we went into New Years Day 2011, then again in June. These present days are much less raw, with tears being shed only every month or two. I have come to expect to not be pregnant, so my hopes aren't dashed nearly as frequently. But there are days, here and there, where my heart is heavy and the tears come. And that's ok too.

The struggle now is finding the balance between maintaining a true and Christ-like hope in this deep desire of mine without letting it become an expectation, something my world revolves around. My heart has released, more and more, the idea that children will somehow complete me, make me the woman I was meant to be. Only GOD, in all his goodness, can fill me, finish me. 

Make that truth known to me today, Jesus. 

The One with a 31 Month Confession

Dear friends, 

I have something to confess. I have been keeping a very large corner of my heart a secret from you all for many months. I didn't know if I should share or if this was something the Lord wanted me to keep private. And so I've waited for a peace about when to open this up for all to see. 

But I haven't been able to blog, to write anything, because I feel false, like I'm hiding something. And I am. 

It has been over 2 -1/2 years (31 months to be exact) since Kevin and I have been trying to conceive. We have been unsuccessful in starting our family--a pain I didn't know I would ever experience, nor could have I comprehended. As I have started sharing more openly with friends and family the pain lessened, and I learned of friends in similar circumstances willing to stand shoulder to shoulder. No one has been unkind or pushy. Prayers are offered and some tears have been shed. Women everywhere understand the longing in our hearts to give birth to our own, to raise a child, to be called "Mother."

And so, even after sharing this struggle with many friends in our Christmas letter, it is with trepidation that I pour out my heart to all of you. 

Lord Jesus, as I begin to share my story use it to bring me freedom and to work in the heart of a friend or a stranger. All of this for you, Jesus. 

Over the next few weeks, I want to share more of our journey, how it began, where we are now, the tears that have fallen, the joy that has been granted. God is so good to us. He has been faithful to uphold us, to hide us in the shelter of his wing. He has withstood my angry cries, and offered peace. As I look back over the last 31 months, I am thankful the lessons I've learned. Most notably, contentment. 

And with that I ask you, friends, will you journey with me down this road of confusion and questions, pain and blessing?