I still have an aversion to waiting rooms. To me it’s one of the loneliest places to sit. I used to have to pray that I wouldn’t have breakdowns while sitting in the waiting room. It felt so isolating and lonely and I spent a lot of time there for a lot of months. Excited moms to be would come in and out and I would sit and wait and wonder if that would be me one day. Infertility is an extremely lonely place to be. Another reason we should share this journey with others. It’s not meant to be walked alone.
However, God used those darkest months for me (especially right after losing the baby) to draw me to Hm in a way that I have never experienced before. I won’t go into detail about all of it but I actually began to see Him as a grieving Shepherd that was sitting with me and not saying a word, only being there for me. He wasn’t angry with me or punishing me for how I felt or even mad that I didn’t really want Him there. He just sat with me and cried with me and gave me grace and time to heal. He used Psalm 23 to minister to me in a great way and since then He has used it over and over again.
A couple more months of testing only to find out there were more issues with my body and lower chances yet of conceiving. But somehow God managed to overcome those barriers and we got pregnant with Jenna. It was an extremely joyful time, thankful time and a fearful time because I always wondered when the dream would be taken away. My pessimistic nature at work for sure.
When we decided after having Jenna that it was time to try again and that we really wanted to add another child to our family we found more heartache. After a year of trying you get that oh so terrific label “infertile.” When you are told that you are infertile a sense of hopelessness makes a way into your life and it’s a battle to get it out. We did a few months of fertility treatment asking God to give us a peace if it didn’t work so we could move on to what He had for us in the future. The doctors would say, “It all looks good. There’s no reason it shouldn’t work this month.” Only to have it not work. They may have been skilled but they were not God.
We were SO so thankful to have a child so that made the infertility road a little different the second time around. But it was still lonely, still heartbreaking and still the lie that God was holding out crept in. I would have friends say, “well at least you have one child.” Yep, very true. But I wanted to say, “Why were you not content with just one?” I don’t know many people who choose to only have one child. I think hurtful, although well intentioned comments makes the loneliness all the more evident in this journey. So what should people say? A friend asked some good questions that I hope to answer with some clarity next time.