I know what you are thinking... Our story - Part 3

October, 1999 - May, 2000

I know what you are thinking... and it is okay.

In your head you are saying to yourself, "This lady didn't suffer with infertility! Who does she think she is?! Her blessing came before she has a chance to suffer like I do!"
You are right for thinking it and okay for saying it. But my journey was just starting... it didn't truly begin until a few years later...


I only began my descent into the slimy pit of infertility for a few days before I was abruptly pulled out by the shocking news that we were expecting. Now, I was a mother just as I had hoped and I was so happy to be one. My son was the funniest kid I had ever met (and still is) even at the age of 2. He loved to snuggle with his mommy and read books and play with Thomas the Train. He spoke with an accent like he had been born in Boston and he had a this great high pitched squeal that came out when he laughed. He carried a Pooh pacifier around longer than he should have, took naps with me on our couch while I watched A Baby Story, and gave my hubby and I all the joy that a little one should. Even during these precious years with him, I continued to dream of more kids and the big family I had always longed for. I was thankful for my miracle, but I wanted more of this good thing that they called motherhood. I always knew I would want a lot of children... but I didn't realize that I would want them so soon after having Jace. The nagging desire for more kids was at times all too consuming. I thought about the journey that I had almost taken before I found out I was pregnant and along with those thoughts came the beginnings of such great fear. Would we be able to have more? Surely, it would be just as easy as it was the first time around. God has blessed me once and I felt it deep down that He would do it again.


My hubby and I started really talking about having more kids when Jace was about 2. I QUICKLY got off my pill that I had been on and we then decided to move forward with trying. I convinced my husband that we should skip the normal method of getting pregnant and should proceed straight to a procedure called IUI. In my mind I thought this jump would ensure us a pregnancy - "within 6 months" I told him. Wishful thinking yet again. The months came and went... over the next year I took multiple cycles of Clomid, cut out all caffeine, started taking prenatals again, used progesterone, and watched what I ate. My hubby also tried to watch a few things in hopes that it would help. I monitored my follicles at work, did ovulation kits, and took HCG injections to ensure that my egg was plump, ripe and ready for the taking. After only 3 months of IUI's, my hope once again had been stolen. I could tell that my hubby was skeptical that any of this would increase our chances in all reality and what little savings we had, was quickly being drained. It was starting to take a toll and we had only been trying for 90 days! We began to ponder the next step...

When we were first married, I always thought that I had a deeper faith than my husband - don't ask me why. Maybe it was because I was so open with others about what I believed when he, in turn, would be more private about his intimate moments with God. So imagine my dismay when he said to me that he didn't think we should try any procedures for a while. He also said that if God wanted us to have any other children, that He would give us the blessing in His timing. Well, I must say that I didn't like that at all. Not one bit. First off, I admit I probably didn't like it because I knew he was right and secondly, I didn't like it because that took the control out of my hands completely and placed it solely in God's. I hated it when my hubby was right and when I was SO wrong. I also did not like feeling out of control.


In the months to come, I prayed and prayed... I did Bible study after Bible study... I begged over and over for God to give us another baby. I tried to be "the best person I could be" - surely that would make Him bless me again. I obsessed with my cycles and spent 2 weeks out of every month thinking of what color I would do the nursery and how big my belly would get. I even made myself feel pregnant some cycles just to be let down when another pregnancy test proved me wrong. I constantly thought to myself - every month that came my way - that this just had to be the month.

But when those times came and when every month the test was negative, I died a little inside each time. I started to descend into that place that I referred to (and still do) as the pit. It was a horrible place and I hated myself in it. It was a place of sadness, brokenness and despair. Terrible anguish is found there. A dark place where Satan waited for me everyday and everyday, I unfortunately showed up. A place where I would be tested - to my limits - over and over again. A place where I allowed jealousy, anger, bitterness, and envy to take over what was left of my heart. A place where my focus would be stolen from this precious little boy - this miracle in front of me and displaced to where an infertile woman lives. A place where I would sob in private so that no one would see the depths of my pain. I didn't feel as though anyone could understand. No one that was close to me was going through the same thing as I. If I told them how I felt, would they see me as the ungrateful and broken person I was?

18 months had passed and I was still not pregnant.
What now?
What in the world do we do now?

I was growing anxious with each passing month and I could feel myself grow more bitter and more cold. I must say that I never gave up on God nor turned my back on Him because I knew He was a gracious God... He had shown me that. I knew He must have a good reason for what He was doing, but deep down, I was so mad at Him for putting me in this place that I could not see straight. I tried to conceal my emotions and replace those feelings with thankful prayers, but He knew better. He saw right through those empty words and straight into my ugly heart. I wanted to be honest with Him about how I felt, but I feared He would not bless me if I did. What a fool I was. Unfortunately and to my further demise, it took me another 2 years of trying before I finally came clean with Him... before I dropped to my knees in desperation and poured out my real heart at the feet of Jesus. What I found there was wonderful but that is for another entry. All I can say is that I should have done it sooner because the years to come were the darkest of my life...