I haven’t blogged in a while, mostly because my thoughts
have been a jumbled mess and even as I write this, I’m not sure how it’s going
to turn out. The past few months have been……..challenging. I started back on
anxiety meds in May and am feeling better, although not “normal”. Deep down I knew that God wouldn't let the
meds work completely because then I would miss whatever He is trying to teach me. I admit when I started taking the meds my
attitude was, “Well if you aren't going to heal me then I’ll get better by myself”. Probably not the smartest thing to
say to the God of the universe.
But I digress.
This post is not about my anxiety, there is nothing new to
say about it, it’s there, it’s not going away, I’m dealing with it one day at a
time. This post is about how I am coping in a time where God is being very
quiet. There is a song called “Say Something (I’m giving up on you)”, it’s a secular
song but Worship Mob did a cover of it and turned it into a cry to God and then
added a verse with God’s response. I listen to it a lot because so often I find
myself crying out “Say something, or I’m giving up on you!” I know that I never
will, because I am His child, I belong to Him, there is no giving up on that,
but still, like a frustrated child, I
want His attention. I want Him to fix me. I want Him to give me a baby. But He doesn't. He remains silent.
I read a blog post
recently by Natasha Metzler about preparing for the times when God is silent.
Natasha says that if during the happy times we are keeping Him in front of us,
then when He is silent, we will be able to cling to what we learned in the happy
times. She says, "Prepare yourself, friend. Prepare your heart for the silence of God. For there are many things that could never grow if not for dormant winters, on earth and in our hearts". I didn't prepare very well for this. I wasn't expecting another long wait.
There is really no way to describe the emotional roller coaster
that a couple struggling with infertility goes through. Month after month,
pregnancy announcements, Facebook pictures of new born babies, and your arms
stay empty.
And then your sister announces she is expecting # 4, and you don’t think you will
survive it.
But you do. I am.
It is easy to dwell on the pain in my life but I know that everyone has pain, nobody is immune, and nobody deserves to go through life without struggles. Least of all me.
My sister suffered multiple miscarriages between babies #2 and #3.
A close friend is halfway through her first pregnancy and was diagnosed with cancer.
Two other close friends have lost their Dads.
Everyone has pain. It is a part of this life. It makes heaven seem that much sweeter.
In the moments, where I feel overwhelmed with despair, I ask
myself “Do you trust Him, or not?” I know that I cannot trust Him a little, or
with only certain things. I must trust Him in everything, big and small. The
greatest test of this came a few weeks ago, when I took a pregnancy test and
there was a very faint pink line. I was in shock, and felt very hesitant to get
excited. We left for the beach a couple of days later where my temperature
confirmed it. Patrick was excited, but deep down I knew that I wouldn't get to
keep this one. I could tell that my body was rejecting it and sure enough at
the end of the week, it was over. I spent a lot of time sitting in front of the
ocean praying that God would let me have this one, but then I heard the voice, “Do
you trust me, or not?”. My prayer turned
to this: “Lord, I know that if You do ever give me babies, that I will have to
trust You with their lives and I will start with this one”. The due date would
have been on my birthday.
“God do you really know what you are doing, because that
would have been a great birthday present”
“Do you trust me, or not?”
I’m not great at this, I fail. A lot. But I let the words of that song sink down into
my soul, “Child I will never give up on you. Child I’m still running after you”.
I don’t have to chase Him, I just have to follow Him.
And for those that think I probably sit at home most of the
time and cry, I want to assure you that this is not the case. I figured out a
long time ago that if I let infertility be the center of my life, that my
marriage would not survive it. So instead of pushing Patrick away and trying to
face it on my own, we banded together. We are a team, going through this together
and growing closer as we try to stumble through it gracefully. There is a lot
of joy in our home, pretty much every day something makes us laugh so hard that
our stomachs hurt. We play card games, have tickle fights, and at night I read
while he watches an episode of “Deadliest Catch” and then we snuggle until we fall
asleep. Then we separate because man, that guy is like a toaster oven! :)
As I thought it would be, this post is a jumbled mess, but,
that is me most of the time, a big jumbled mess. I’m so glad that there is
Someone who can make sense of it.
This is good.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful. And encouraged me in turn. Thank you.
ReplyDelete