The struggles of infertility
Good Morning Friends, how are you? I am okay. God placed it on my heart to talk about the struggles of infertility. Now, this is something Jman, and I have been trying to become parents for over 2 years and like anything worth having we have great days and bad days and horrible days. And sometimes the dreadful days are days after days, I can’t breathe because of the struggles.
However, there some significant struggles that I struggle with.
We are not enough because we don’t have kids.
We have a lot of friends who have kids. Cliques at our church, and cousins who have children. It makes us feel like we are not enough because we don’t have kids. We haven’t made the grade, and therefore we don’t get an invitation or get to be included. Now I’m sure some of our friends would say we didn’t want to make you feel bad by inviting you. I had one friend explain that they wanted us included, but there would be a lot of kids. So we were given an option, and that was a lifeline. We could celebrate with their child in a way that didn’t make us feel we put on display for not having kids.
Those mean comments become a playlist
We have had a slew of mean comments thrown at us during this struggle. Comments that the other person meant well, but there was a spin once analyzed and made tears sprung into my eyes. But we laughed it off because its easier to laugh to cry. Comments that were rooted in meanness and selfishness that have left me dumbfounded and breathless. Those comments become so loud that they drown out my heavenly father’s voice, and when I fix those hurtful words. Everything seems harder. Going to work and smiling. Often I want to say something just as harmful, but I held my tongue because throwing grenades only leads to rubble, hurt feelings, and broken relationships.
I don’t want to do infertility treatments
This is small on these lists of things, but I sometimes feel like I am a terrible person because I leaning more toward adoption than having a child of our flesh and blood. Jman has asthma and galactosemia and dyslexia, I am a cancer survivor with astigmatism. And all of the things, coupled with a heart for children, have made us decide that God is leading us toward adoptions. However, on the bad days and horrible days, I can convince myself that I’m an awful person for thinking that I would never have a child with their father’s magic eyes and my red hair.
My feelings don’t matter
This is something I struggle with, especially during the shelter in place. I somehow convinced myself that people with children had it harder than I. Or that it’s my job to be a nursery worker because I don’t have kids. Now, this is a lie that slips in on those days when I am hurting. They slip in when I am talking with a friend, complaining about their child, not sleeping. I always want to scream at them. I would give anything to be in your shoes. To be able to pour into a child and show them the world. But again, I keep quiet and listen, then I distance myself from that person because it is hard to be only a soundboard. Sometimes the person reaches back out and checks in, but most of the time, I leave the busted relationship in my wake, and I feel horrible about dropping friends, but I am unsure of letting you know that it was one-sided.
Mothers and Fathers day is the worst.
Mother’s Days and Father’s day are excluding and hurtful. We often talk about the joys of being a parent, but we don’t talk about the struggles and isolating these days—just this past Mother’s day. I had one friend reach out, and all she said was I see you, and you are on my heart. That was reaffirming and made me feel like I matter.
I feel like I am letting our families down.
I feel like I am letting our families down. We have loving parents who would be the best grandparents. Our siblings will be the best aunts and uncles. And Then I hear the lies that I am a failure and that my family is disappointed with me because I can’t provide children. However, my father-in-law reminds me that our relationship, Jman and I, is about us, and their love isn’t contingent on whether we have kids.
I get angry at God.
I get angry at God. I argue and bargain with him. I plead with him. I go to work where I smile and am friendly even though I am hurting and feel like screaming. I want God to work on my time and get impatient with his timing. I feel lonely and forgotten God knows my struggle. He knows my tears and catches them in his nail, scarred hands. However, my anger at God doesn’t change his plan. It does make his voice louder when he clears out the lies I tell myself, and then I turn back to him knowing that his plan is best and reasons are best. It can sometimes take a few days. But his voice rings true. A friend will reach out, a song will lift my spirits, fandom distracts from real life. A friend who is expecting will tell before announcing it to others, another friend who has walked this path will listen when the lies and mean comments come along. My mom will call me brave, even when I feel miserable.
If you are struggling with infertility, know you are not alone. I see you. I am here if you want to talk. God provides, and God takes away. I understand that this is not as reassuring when staring down the storms that infertility brings, but God never gives us more than we can handle. God brings comfort when the winds blow, and when it feels like I can’t breathe, he fills my lungs with air. And the peace that passes understanding only comes from God. He sends the rainbow and the sunbeams when tears and rain makes me feel like I am drowning.
Sing praises to God and to his name! Sing loud praises to him who rides the clouds. His name is the Lord— rejoice in his presence! Father to the fatherless, defender of widows— this is God, whose dwelling is holy.
TTFN and God Bless you and keep you:)