I sat in the waiting room staring at my shoe and listening to a conversation discussing the best car seat covers. Although I had just as much right to jump in and add my two cents, I didn’t. Something about that office can still make me feel like I’m less than if I let it, even though to my core I believe the truth, that I am not.
The theme for this year’s National Infertility Awareness Week has been “flip the script.” It’s been amazing to see all the stories that have been shared over the past week of God’s goodness and His faithfulness in the middle of so much pain. It’s also been amazing to hear of miracle after miracle that He has performed in the stories of so many.
I might be experiencing delayed fertility, but that is not who I am. Infertility is NOT the end of my story. I was so honored to join with so many others in sharing my story on my dear friend, Caroline’s blog today! Head over to read the hope that is found in between every line..
Our stories, they both started with brokenness.
Mine looked like month after month, year after year of negative pregnancy tests. It’s all I ever wanted to be, a mama. So when doctors and my flat belly told me it wouldn’t happen, it was a deep pain, probably the deepest of my life. It wasn’t suppose to be this way. My body is designed to conceive and carry babies.
I don’t like to think of your story as painful. It tears my heart in half to think of you being in pain. But the truth is, in a perfect world, before the fall, God intended mommies to carry their babies. Your birth mama, she loved you so deep, she knew she couldn’t give you what you needed. So she made a brave choice, and chose life for you, a life she couldn’t give.
Since the calendar turned another page, there was a short season of time when our days slowed down. We created new rhythms again, as a family of four. We were settling into those cold, rainy days that winter blows in, and have been filled with so much excitement as we’ve watched the cold of winter be met with the warm, budding signs of spring.
We were made to be seen.
We long to be noticed.
Because if we are seen, then maybe we’ll be understood.
The loneliest times in my life have been filled with moments such as these.
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