Infertility. The word itself is unattractive and harsh. As you insert it in a sentence it causes one to pause and breathe differently. It carries a weight and complexity that other words do not know. Infertility knows the heavy past, but merely guesses at the possibilities of the future. This adjective holds joy, pain, sorrow, dancing, relief and agony for family. This little word carries such complication.
The journey of the infertile ebbs and flows from hot-air-balloon heights to dusty-pit lows. It does not discriminate on gender. While a woman may experience the initial pain, men also know the confusion. It becomes a family burden.
You wake up in the morning and it slaps you harder and louder than any alarm. It then sits heavy on you during the day.
It causes you to question.
And the layers. Oh, the layers.
Will we know parenthood?
And the grandparents? They are so hopeful.
After the 37th Negative Pregnancy Test you question your hope.
It is sometimes more than a heart can take to sit in one more darn waiting room at an OBGYN-Ultra-Sound-Office, next to an Eight- Month-Pregnant-Woman so they can check your dysfunctional-ovaries instead of a beating-heart.
“These ARE the desires of my heart. What is happening, Jesus? You give and take away and I PRAISE you. But, please, please, please GIVE… no more miscarriages. No more taking away.”
And in the tangled moments… you sometimes supernaturally and mysteriously love Jesus all the more because you know He can handle your heartbreak and your anger and your confusion. And He draws closer to you. He cradles your ache.
And He shows up and GIVES in gracious ways.
Gifts that are not the sounds of a cooing baby, but still, so precious.
The compassion of your husband is life-giving.
The Word becomes salve to your wounds.
The exhaustion soon gives way to comfort.
The worry miraculously turns to peace.
The heartbrokenness is not removed, but His sovereignty is revealed.
Tears become your prayers… because giving up any more words on this subject of infertility is too much.
Through this long journey, we deeply learn, He is enough.
He is good. He is kind. He is close to the brokenhearted. And His plans are still for-us.
Somehow, through it all…
Through pregnancy tests.
Through fertility treatments.
Through it all, He is for us and His promises are still true.
You then say it louder to convince your heart one more time: HE IS FOR US AND HIS PROMISES ARE STILL TRUE.
On the other side of this tangled, twisted season of life… we will be different, we will be better, we will be more like Him. We will be women with a deeper-understanding-of-hope.
Our sufferings do indeed produce perseverance.
Perseverance then produces character.
And character arrives as hope.
The One who provides this hope begins to heal our broken-infertile-places and gives us the ability to believe again.
This belief will nestle itself inside our lungs so that one day we will proclaim with force to the next generation: Wait on Him! He will not forget you! You will find Him faithful in the dim hours. He will prove to your heart that His faithfulness shines the brightest during our darkest seasons.
And one day the dawn will come and crack open the darkness… and it will be more than you can dream, ask or imagine.
It may arrive differently than you anticipated or pictured in your mind. It will arrive, though. And it will be a new season of hope, trials, joy and pain… all wrapped in the faithfulness He has already demonstrated.
And it will indeed take your breath away. And thankfulness will fill your lungs.