I have been on and off hormones throughout the last year.
When I think about hormones it makes me cringe. I took oral hormones, shots in
all places hormones, you forget what day it is hormones because they literally
make you go crazy!!!! Concentrated hormones are no joke! I honestly felt like
an alien invaded my body and took over! All I can say is my poor husband……..he
is a precious man! At one point, we were both on them! You can only imagine how
that scenario played out! For all my sweet friends, who were patient with me and loved me through all of it…..first, I am sorry, second, thank you for still being my friend! 🙂
the up and downs of hormones were a very difficult part of this journey. Our
hopes would be so high at the beginning of the month because although it was a
slim chance, there was a chance we could get pregnant. Then in the middle of
the month, we would get stressed because there were so many appointments to
keep up with. I would have ultrasounds and blood work every other day. It was
always hard to remember what shot or pill to take when. Even these hormones made
me desperately need Jesus more. In a crazy way, they were a blessing! (PS don’t
EVER, I mean EVER, tell someone that when they are on them!) J
wrap my mind around everything that was going on in our life at the time. It helps tell our story a little better…..
to be on hormones during my wedding?” My favorite and only sister asked as we
were trying to find ties for the groomsmen two weeks before her wedding in July.
We were sitting in the middle of the mall as I was eating chocolate marshmallow
brownie cookies and drinking a blue raspberry slushy, as any woman does with
loads of hormones rushing through her veins. My sister knew exactly what my
heart needed after a previous meltdown.
matched the bridesmaid dresses. We were obviously doing this very late being
that she only had two weeks to find them. She just returned from a mission trip
to China for a month and James, her fiancé, needed help with his to do list. J Being the Type A personality that
I am, was given James’ job, and we set out to find these ties. We found one tie
that matched absolutely perfect. I kindly approached the clerk asking if he
could help us find more of the same ties at any other store across the Upstate
of South Carolina. I explained we were in a huge time crunch and could use any
help he could give us. The sweet man did everything he could to help us, but
the item number and the color on the tie could not be searched in his database.
My sister could tell the inefficiency was really starting to rub my hormones
the wrong way and she literally grabbed my arm, thanked that kind soul, and
drug me out of the store. The whole time I was so annoyed that a huge franchise
could be so unorganized. By the time we made it out of the store, I was having
what felt like the twelfth hot flash of the day and I was crying over the
inefficiency of a stupid tie item number and color.
hugs like I had done very frequently over the last year and a half. She began
to cry with me knowing that this had nothing to do with ties or sweet old
clerks at the mall. We cried because we were so tired of this very thing.
control. We had almost been married for three years. And we really wanted to
follow Christ in our decision of starting a family. We knew he had called us to
this, so we felt it was the right time to obey. I came off birth control in
March because my doctor had recommended waiting three months before we started
trying to get pregnant. I was a teacher (also know as planner), knew summer was
the perfect time to get pregnant so I could teach most of the year and be out
the last couple of months of school and have the whole next summer to spend
with that sweet baby.
wasn’t too surprised when we weren’t pregnant. I really began to become
obsessed in June and July about “counting days.” “Normal people” were pregnant
by then. As I unpacked my classroom in August, my heart was broken because I
wasn’t doing it pregnant like I had thought. The months painfully passed and
the result was the same. Every month my heart could not understand why God had
clearly called us to this and chose to not give us a baby. One word describes the
feelings of those months: wrestle.
this is not when you want us to get pregnant? How did you let this mom get
pregnant with my sweet student, when I had to call DSS? Why did they get
pregnant on “accident”? They weren’t even seeking you. Are you ever giving us
children? Are you punishing us? Have we not learned what you are trying to
teach us? How is this love? Where have you gone? How can you watch me hurt one
more month?” These are the thoughts and lies, (that aren’t pretty) I constantly
doctor. Most doctors won’t label you infertile until after a year of trying to
get pregnant. But I just knew something was wrong. As I talked with my doctor,
she was going through the basic screening. I was like clockwork every month. No
family history of any infertility. She didn’t know where to start so she had
Brandon tested. His counts were somewhat abnormal, but not enough to cause us
not to get pregnant for so long.
I still don’t know how that is relief, but it was. I continued to wrestle
through those things in my heart everyday as I was being a “school mom,” my
students liked to call me, to everyone else’s children. We got more and more
calls of friends who were pregnant. You would think it would get easier. But it
never did. In fact, each month was harder. We felt more alone. We were more
confused. We were more frustrated with this plan of God’s for our life. Our
hearts tried so hard and wanted so bad to trust Him. We knew He was good. But
in February, our eyes were too tired to see it.
because of some of Brandon’s issues (and later found out about my severe
endometriosis) that we would not have children on our own unless we had
fertility help. Even then, our chances were very low. At that time, my mom was very sick and was
trying to fight for her life. I told him briefly of her sickness, and how we
needed to wait until she was better to start treatments because of the stress.
We told him we would call him when we were ready. We needed a couple of months
to let this all sink in and recover. We needed my mom to be healthy.
were ready to fall asleep at seven that night because we were so emotionally
tired. Just as I mustered up the strength to close my eyes, my phone went off.
“Well sisters, looks like I got myself knocked up,” a friend text me. There are
just no words. “Knocked up?” Really?
happy I was for her. Asked how far along she was, and when she was due. I was
later told I wasn’t happy enough for her and she didn’t understand how I could
be so selfish. She had no idea what I was going through, but quite frankly I
didn’t have enough strength to tell her.
closed my swollen, red eyes for the second time that night, all my heart could
do was hurt before the Lord. I didn’t have words. Just hurt. And it hurt bad. It
absolutely ached to the very depths of my being. Nothing Tylenol could fix. Not
even heart surgery (and I’ve had four) could fix this heart. I just ached
before Jesus, before my Daddy, Abba. He knows hurt. He saw my hurt that night
just like he saw Hagar in the desert after she fled from Abraham (Gen. 16). The
God of the universe, El Roi, the God who sees, saw little me. Hurt and hormones were
something I would learn to accept in my life for a while. I could accept it,
because El Roi saw me. And friend, He sees you too.