Simon and I having been trying to have a baby for almost two years now. In short, it hasn’t happened, but the longer story is that it has been one of the most heartbreaking experiences I have ever had.
When I was young I sort of had a mini plan for my life, that plan included being married by 25 and having at least one child by the time I was 27. As I have gotten older and closer to 30, I have realized that my plan was a little silly, but it was still my plan. I am also realizing that God has a bigger plan for my life. I have held my plan very tightly with closed hands and slowly God is helping me unclench my fists and open my hands to something different.
I am still on the journey to discover this new plan, but I do have hope. My hope comes from how I know God is working on me and molding me into a woman that can contribute to friendships, my marriage, and to the world.
I went to a hymn sing last year during December with Sandra McCracken, this hymn resonated and stirred my soul. I keep a copy of it on my dresser so I can read it when I am having tough days. Here are my two favorite verses.
O Love That Will Not Let Me Go
O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not in vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
I know that God’s love will not let me go and that there is a promise of hope. I have debated long and hard about whether to blog about our infertility journey. I don’t want this part of my life to define me or be the only thing I talk about on a dailybasis. However, after thinking and praying about it, I have decided a couple of things.
First many people don’t discuss infertility because it can be awkward and embarrassing. After going through this experience for awhile I have discovered that Simon and I are not alone. Hopefully there are others who can benefit from my experiences on this journey.
Second, I believe that suffering is meant to be shared with others. I hope as I start sharing some of the stories from our experiences that others can laugh, cry, and learn with us. After all this is the point of writing that I teach my students about; to share your life experience with others.
Hey Lady! I totally miss you! I read this & it touched me. Of course most girls have a plan for their lives… My plan is a total bust. I struggle with being single & being 31 & not having a date in like forever. I didn’t envision this for my life & it sucks. I get so self absorbed that I think I’m the only one suffering. I know that Gods plan is way better than anything I could ever imagine but its not what I want. That’s a hard pill to swallow..
Elissa, my best friend of 10 years has been struggling with infertility as well (she just had her 6th failed treatment) and I “know” (second hand) how hard this must be for you and Simon. You are so brave for writing about it, and I really admire you for it. I just know you are really going to help some other women through this. Praying for strength as you share.
- Kara
Elissa,
I don’t know how much–if anything–you know about my journey with infertility. Like you, I had plans for my life. First and foremost, I wanted to be a wife and mother. Second, I wanted to be a teacher. The teacher part came, then the wife part, and then I waited to become a mother.
My sisters are all incredibly fertile and could plan–almost to the day–when they wanted to have a baby. And then there was me. I had infrequent periods throughout high school and college when I was running competitively. In my heart, I guess I always knew that I might have difficulty getting pregnant. As my younger sister, Timaree, got pregnant and delivered Simon, I was grieving my first miscarriage.
I did get pregnant at 27 and miscarried at the end of my first trimester. I believed that God had blessed me, and that Paul and I would finally be parents. When my pregnancy ended, I grieved alone for the most part. People don’t talk openly about miscarriage either. And when they do, they generally say things like “Well, just you can always have another baby.”
Eight months later, I did get pregnant again and promptly miscarried.
But then the years of infertility began. Like you, each month I would pray that I would get pregnant one more time and that, this time, I would be able to carry full term. When this didn’t happen, I began seeing the doctor for fertility help. I took my temperature religiously to see if I was ovulating (to no avail), tried to relax, eventually took Clomid to promoted ovulation, After a year on Clomid, my fertility count was so low that even the doctor suggested that i just quit for awhile and take a break.
As I got closer to 30, I talked seriously to Paul about pursuing adoption. I’d done enough research to know that some agencies wouldn’t allow you to adopt an infant after a certain age, and I was getting concerned that I wouldn’t be able to get pregnant at all. When he agreed, we contacted Catholic Charities in Cedar Rapids, and blessedly, Megan was about to be born. As a biracial infant, there weren’t other couples who were interested in adopting at that time. We were so blessed!
For the next year, I tried Clomid again. Nothing. When Megan was a year old, I was visiting Gram and Grandad at Christmas and missed my period. I remember that I bought a pregnancy test, got up in the middle of the night so I could take it and get the results before anyone got up the next morning. I didn’t want anyone to see how disappointed I was. When I finally read the results, I discovered I was pregnant. Still, I’d been pregnant twice and miscarried both times. I was so afraid to be happy because I’d been devastated before.
I did carry to term, though, and Collyn was born. When she was six months old, wonder of wonders, I was pregnant again, and Marinne was born. I had three children under the age of three!
The grief that comes with infertility and miscarriage is no different than other forms of grief. Whether it the death of a dream or the death of a child, it’s death nonetheless. I will never forget how lonely I felt because everyone around me–my sisters included–was pregnant. I SO understand how brutal it is to celebrate everyone’s elses’ good news when you have none. My heart breaks for you and Simon as you go through this journey. I know that God has plans for both of you and that we don’t always know what these plans are. Still, it’s so hard to wait.
I’m praying for both of you in this journey. I feel so blessed to have the family that I have. Adopting and giving birth have both been miraculous experiences. I pray that God will bless you and Simon, too.
Shannon
Elissa,
As someone with diagnosed infertility, I know how much pain you’re going through. It is really, really hard to wait your turn. And yes, there’s a lot of questioning God.
I’m sorry you guys are struggling. I pray for peace, and of course that you guys get your baby!