I kept a picture of the babies that I lost during my IVF cycle on my fridge for years. I think I finally took them down last year sometime. I was trying to move on, but didn't have the heart to completely remove them from my life. If I did - would that mean they never existed? They had to stay there where I could see them... I needed to be reminded of what we had been through and no matter how hard we tried - it just wasn't "in the cards". It was a reminder of God's plan that I knew was in place... a plan that wasn't necessarily mine, but a plan I had no choice but to embrace.
I did my best.
During the months to follow, I learned how to multi-task. I learned that I was able to live two totally different lives... the life I knew I needed to have and the life I truly had behind closed doors. On the outside, I was together and happy. The first to tell you how blessed I was to have all that I had been given. Blessed to be a mom, blessed to be at home to raise my son (I had quit finally after 8 years of nursing to raise my son before he headed off to Kindergarten), blessed to have a wonderful marriage, blessed to have great family and friends, and most of all blessed to have a God who loved me in spite of my sinful nature. All of this, I did believe and was grateful for, but couldn't fully appreciate. There was too much pain that hid within me... my other life stole my focus and my understanding of the life I should have been living.
That other life consisted of me locking myself in bathrooms to cry when I saw an infant come my way or burn with envy when another person would exclaim with happiness and pride "I am pregnant!!!". My other life was dark - full of jealousy, bitterness, and rage. There were days that I would let the phone ring and ring because I could not stand to talk to the mom on the other end of the line. I knew she would speak of her impending pregnancy or I would hear the chaos of all the little ones in her house and it was too much for me to take. There were days while I was at playgroup with my son that I would have to excuse myself to another room where there were no other "breastfeeders" around - the sight of that made my skin crawl. Overall, these days were filled with despair and an overwhelming sense of failure. I was not able - nor allowed - to do what these ladies were able to do. This gift of motherhood that so many took for granted could very possibly be only mine once. I better start enjoying what I had left of the "little days" before my little one went off to school...
The next year was hard. We continued to try. No medication though. No procedures. Just good ol' fashioned trying and a lot of praying. Another 15 cycles went by... yes, 15. That is
15 no's... 15 not yet's... 15 never's... 15 let downs. (Reminder - that is 46 "no" cycles in total since my son was born). It was a rough year to say the least - months of depression, a trial run of Prozac, and many days completely spent in bed, but we kept going... still hoping His plan would include a "yes" one day even though every "no" was completely and utterly destroying my fragile heart.
Jace was already 5 and about to start Kindergarten in the fall of 2003. The thought that my little one was growing up, moving on to another chapter in his life, and that I was left without another child at home was excruciating. He was my pride and joy and his "little life" as I referred to it was over. "Big boy-hood" was starting and I was now one of those moms whose kids are grown and gone to school. I was left at home - alone - with my days empty - void of any life within my house but my own. It made the infertility portion of my life much worst. Everything was magnified, so I began to fill my days hoping it would help. I was homeroom mom at Jace school which was fun. I started a ladies Bible study group at my home and hosted different studies one night a week. Jace was involved with baseball and I was snack mom. I met other ladies at his school and joined them for lunches and fellowship. I stopped going to playgroup... it was too painful, but enjoyed my lady friends as much as I could. As I look back, I see that God used this time to show me so much, but all I could see then was the heartache.
Something had to give. I knew I couldn't live my life focused only on heartache and loss, but I was not sure how to get out of that way of thinking. My head would tell me one thing and my heart would tell me another. I was determined to try something new... to try to trust the Lord fully... to try to gain some understanding as to why He would have chosen this for my life. Some days were great - some were not, but I do know that as I began to seek Him fully - with a willing heart - the clouds began to lift and some sunshine crept back into my life.
I started to study my Bible - a lot. I would sometimes spend 4, 5, even 6 hours in His word while Jace was away at school. With coffee in hand, I would scour the pages of His Book, contemplate verses at my computer, and sharing what God was showing with me with others. At God's urging, I started an email ministry to get some spiritual food out on the web where friends who were also struggling could go to have a moment with God. I spent hours every week typing up Bible study lessons and spent many a day on my face before God praying about my life, my future, and my ability(or lack thereof) to cope. I can not say everything suddenly became perfect or that I was happy everyday, even, but I can say I felt more in tune with God and that in turn gave me great comfort and peace in my season of waiting. Chris and I continued to try without any luck and so as the months passed, I began to change my way of thinking. Maybe having another baby just wasn't an option for us and if it wasn't ever going to happen - how was I going to handle my life? Was I going to waste it away by drowning in the despair - in the sadness - in the anger? Or would I refocus on surrendering to God this terrible journey and allow Him to pick up the pieces of my heart and make it whole again?
It was worth a try...
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