Accepting Infertility
I was 17 when I began my journey with infertility. Well, sort of. Obviously, I wasn’t really thinking about having babies at 17 years old, so when my oncologist told me I had to have a hysterectomy to treat my cancer, I kind of just did a mental shrug.
They set me up with a fertility doctor, but when I saw him, I felt like he was speaking a foreign language. Eggs, embryos, sperm, surrogates? Okay...? At the time, freezing eggs was still experimental, and so my best option was to freeze embryos...which meant I was going to need some man juice from a donor to make it happen. Nope, not happening. So, that was that. It wasn’t a problem for me yet, so I didn’t deal with it. I just wrapped it up neatly, stuck it in a box, and put it in a dusty drawer in the back of my brain to deal with later down the road. But, as I got older, I found myself staring at the drawer, wondering if it was time to open it and deal with what was inside.
When I started dating seriously, I was dating with the intentions of marriage. That was about the time I started thinking seriously about everything. I started feeling a sense of shame that I couldn't give someone the “normal” experience of: trying, getting pregnant, and having biological children. It really bothered me, and I felt afraid to admit to someone that I could never carry their child. At the time, I didn’t even think egg retrieval would be an option for me because of other medical conditions I had.
When Rob and I began dating, I knew that a conversation about this was coming. Our first real date, we were stargazing at a park in Tupelo, MS. My stomach was in knots as I waited for an opportunity to bring it up. Finally, I spilled my guts, and probably shared more information than I needed to so early on in our relationship. On the surface, he accepted everything. But, I knew he was going to have to digest it.
Later on, I remember a night when Rob confessed that he was a little bit sad and concerned about it. I was so insecure about my infertility that I blew up on him. Selfishly, I made him feel like a horrible person for simply having normal human feelings about something he had probably not even thought about his entire life until now. He was processing things healthily, while I was harboring insecurity, worry, and jealousy because of my lack of processing.
Things got better over time as we grew and as our relationship strengthened. We saw my fertility doctor together for the first time a few years ago, and just asked questions, but didn't make any moves toward egg retrieval because of my other health conditions. We figured we should just wait until we felt ready to start our family. After that appointment, I began praying the same prayer over and over. I prayed that God would give us clarity when it was time to pursue having children, whether it be by surrogacy or adoption first. That was it. And, I’ve prayed it probably a thousand times since then.
A couple more years went by and suddenly everyone around me was getting pregnant, or so that’s what it felt like. And, it started to hurt. Though, in ways, I had processed my situation, there was a lingering pain that I felt deep inside of me. I am embarrassed to admit this next part, but I think that God is calling me into vulnerability in this season. He’s been writing my new story since I was 17 and had put him in charge of my life. And, now I want to share even my most difficult parts with you.
I started to truly feel sorry for myself in the last year. I started to long for the ability to carry my own children. So much so, that sometimes, I would pretend I was pregnant in my mind. Ever since I had my surgeries, my abdomen has been a little more bloated, especially at the end of the day. So, I have looked at my body in the mirror, and stared at my stomach, and just imagined what it would be like. No one tells you that you’ll long for the very PHYSICAL feeling of being pregnant. Everyone around me has always said I’m lucky that I don’t have to experience that part of it. But, there’s something heart wrenching about having no choice, no ability to do what you’re physically designed to do.
It’s hard to explain, but I had an overwhelming feeling of uselessness because of this. And, all the while, my faith had been waning. But, I continued to pray the same prayer. Around the time that my emotional struggle was starting to evolve, I was asked to share my testimony on video at church. Funny timing. I think God wanted to remind me of everything he had done in my life up to now, and that the story is still being written. As I wrote out my story before the video shoot, I remembered all the times as a little girl that I told my mom I never wanted give birth because it scared me and that I dreamed of adopting a child one day. It’s like God was saying “Helloooo! I am writing a story, and your infertility is just the BEGINNING.” It feels good to remember his faithfulness, and that He isn’t done yet.
Yes, my journey to being a mother doesn’t look like anyone else’s. But, the thing is, all of our journeys look a little different. The more I obsessed over my situation, the more people God began to reveal around me that were struggling with their own unique infertility struggles. I began to realize that maybe my story could help someone, if I would stop feeling sorry for myself and embrace it. And just because my story isn’t so “natural” and so simple, doesn’t make it any less beautiful and meaningful. Though it’s sad to me somedays, I wouldn't change my situation. Because, God has something in mind for me that only he could have come up with. And, that’s so much better than something I could have come up with. He knows the desires of my heart. He knows my longing to be a mother. He knit me together in my own mother’s womb, knowing that one day I’d be dreaming of my own child, that he could be knitting together right this very moment in someone else’s womb. And, that is okay with me. In fact, that’s the most beautiful thing I could ever even ask for. I am so excited for it.
That opportunity to share my testimony spurred me into thinking about sharing the next page of my story. So here we are. I don’t have a clue what God is putting together for me right now, but I do know that He’s working on my behalf, because just a couple months ago I received my first bit of clarity that I’d been praying for. But, more on that later.
