Infertility

The greatest of these is LOVE

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

the greatest is LOVEPosted by Hope

It’s a tricky thing to be honest with those around you. We walk a tightrope of comfort and transparency when we consider sharing our authentic selves. When I have shared life with a friend, I sometimes walk away having a review conversation with myself about what I should have said differently or kept to myself. As a woman, I know I’m not alone in that struggle. With that said, I would like to share how very conflicting it is to carry on this blog. I read a lot of personal stories and realize more and more that every single person has so much to give. Why would what I write, or don’t write, make a difference? I had a post written for Mother’s Day that was a celebration of the two years we have clocked in our journey as a new family. I didn’t post it. The reason, I felt it would be hypocritical. I had a complete meltdown on Mother’s Day evening. Timing is everything.

For the last six weeks, I have grown in an area that is private to most and disappointing to me. The ugly parts of me have been exposed in my interactions with my step sons. I have found myself in a season where reality is sinking in and the cost of giving up my single and childless lifestyle is hitting home. My head now understands that there is rarely room in the schedule for just catching my breath, finances are usually tight and boys are a different breed than girls altogether. It’s stretched me out of my comfort zone and quite honestly, I haven’t stretched quietly. I feel like making it to the end of baseball season with my marriage and sanity intact was a complete miracle. I have no idea how families that do travel ball make it. I have found resentment, selfishness, un-forgiveness and doubt in my heart and it is disgusting to discover. What I realized is that an old track that played in my head in a prior life had found it’s way into this one.

On Mother’s Day, as we returned home from a road trip, I couldn’t wait to deliver them to their mom’s house and regain the peace and quiet of MY home. So many things are wrong with that sentence, but it’s the truth of what was on my mind. I had spent the last 30 minutes of the drive home stewing in frustration at the lack of peace and quiet. When we reached the driveway, they exited the car and walked to the front door, without a glace back or a good bye. The moment I had waited for had arrived and instead of feeling relief, I felt loss. As I watched them disappear behind the door, I felt the tears come. The drive to our driveway was short and by the time we made it into our house, a wave of grief washed over me. Dave asked what was wrong and through my sobs, I told him, “I can’t talk right now, just pray for me.” I walked into our bedroom and collapsed beside our bed into a heap of tears. The waves of emotions washed over me and as I heaved the sorrow from my soul, I had no idea or understanding about why such a simple act could produce this kind of reaction. Slowly, as the moment brought calm and the storm began to subside, I felt a quiet knowing that this grief was bigger than the simple driveway incident. The timing of the day and the act of departure was no coincidence. It was THE purge. The emptying out of years of pain and disappointment for what would never be for me. No sonogram photos, no protruding belly, no girly showers with matching cookies and ribbon, no tiny fingers wrapped around my finger or smiling responses to my voice. This was the reality of my motherhood. Caution, trepidation, desire for love met with shallow response, competing affections and tender hearts.

In the following weeks, through personal study, amazing preaching and the secure voice of God, He unwrapped what this lesson held. I got lost in romanticizing the idea of our family. I had begun to rush us to become and for me to be. The timing of the blend has to move at it’s authentic pace or it is forced and will disappoint. God showed me that He would not have called me to this life if He had not already provided every single tool I would need to cover every need. My impatience with the gift He has given me in my new family had brought me to a place of careful consideration. When I was arrested by the willingness of my heart to discard what had been given to me as a blessing, I felt breathless at how I could even consider a trade. As a trade off, this past weekend, I was given a glimpse into not one, but three tiny hearts that was earned through trust. Because I could admit my faults and apologize, I earned the right to listen when they opened up.

I am in awe of single parents. Their ability to wear so many hats and keep it all spinning is miraculous to me. They don’t have the option but to keep going and to find the beauty in their situation. Getting acquainted with parenthood has been very conflicting for me because of my tendency to romanticize the whole experience. As I live the reality of the cost, I have not done a very graceful job of transitioning. My three step-sons and their father have extended so much grace toward me as I pout and react with passive aggression until the mirror of the Word is held up to me and I have to repent to them. What truth lies in 1 Corinthians 13!

If you are new to life with kids, know that it will challenge every selfish place inside and cost you dearly. However, when you receive a piece of their hearts, it makes every sacrifice worth it. Also, I highly recommend finding humor in it. There’s plenty of it flying around so don’t take yourself so seriously. Trust the process and don’t even THINK about attempting this without Jesus Christ at the center of your relationship with your spouse. These days pass quickly and it will be quiet before you know it. Don’t waste the opportunity to shape a life.

Notes From The Sideline

/ Hope and Dave / Leave a comment

Posted by Hope

Turf_Field_7_web

It is the last day of work leave for the unexpected hysterectomy that sidelined me. I have very mixed feelings. This time FLEW by! Dave said it would and now, I’m mentally preparing to go back. There are a ton of things I had hoped to accomplish. It’s amazing how distracted we live. But, I have had a great time.

I have learned so much during this period.  I’m also thankful that I’ve discovered areas to focus on improvement within myself in 2015.  A lot can be said for good, honest introspection and the last six weeks have provided plenty of opportunity for that for this gal. There have been so many many many moments that I have hidden in my heart to savor.

Here are some of the biggest recent journey takeaways for me:

  1. Infertility is horrifying.  It is relentless, pervasive, indiscriminate and costly. It damages the home and the heart.  It can bring a couple to their breaking point and can end friendships.  But it can also be the very thing that causes a woman to find her true and God given identity.  I am defined by Jesus Christ alone.
  2. Our lives rarely turn out as we plan them.  That doesn’t diminish the success.  In the creative way our lives are woven, we can end up with a much more beautiful tapestry and a much more beautiful song.
  3. The fear of the unknown usually turns out to be worse than the big thing. When the day arrives, you really are stronger than you realize. And maybe, just maybe, the monster you are afraid of, doesn’t exist.
  4. You learn who your friends are when you are down for the count. The old adage, “To have a friend, you must be a friend” rings very true when doing companionship inventory. The Golden Rule helps out too. Remember this when your friends are down!
  5. A good laugh can pull you through a knothole.  When you’ve cried, pondered, talked and chewed it out….find a way to laugh.
  6. You must be willing and able to make your story/need/surgery/loss public to receive the care and support you need. Had I not revealed the impending surgery and the depth to which my heart would hurt, this time would have passed quietly and who knows how different this recovery process would have been. Regardless of the fear of perceived rejection, there are people who really do care.
  7. You will not have as much down time as you expect.  I still have a long list of projects I thought I would be able to pass my time here at the house checking off. That did not happen. Somehow, I still had a schedule to keep in this time. UGH! Embrace rest.
  8. Pay attention to your body’s signals. Stop when it says stop. There’s a reason you are dizzy, weak or hungry. Lay down when you feel those signals. You will be able to accomplish more than you expect, but don’t over-do it.
    Celebrate the small steps and the good days. You may hurt for a while, but when it doesn’t, celebrate that. Healing is happening.
  9. Do you really need to feel bad? If you’re not sad, don’t look for a reason to be. If you’re feeling fine, enjoy that. You may be walking through a hard time, but if you’re healthy emotionally, count yourself as blessed and carry on with your chin up. There’s no reason to make yourself lament if you’re emotionally well.
  10. Appreciate the sacrifice of those around you that are having to make adjustments to serving you. Notice the little things.
  11. Let people love you. Generosity will show up in unexpected places. Enjoy being loved. Instead of being uncomfortable, suspicious or feeling the obligation to repay….breathe in the gesture and intent and accept the love.
  12. We do not all speak the same language. Everyone responds to life differently. When you encounter someone who seems to belittle, dismiss or even mock your situation, do not harden your heart toward them. Accept that their journey is different from yours and carry on being true to who you are. Heal properly and in a healthy way, free from bitterness.

I feel excitement as I look forward to returning to the routine of my life. I have nuggets in my pocket to face tomorrow with. This has been a defining event in my life and I know I have emerged a changed woman.  Ultimately, it’s up to me to determine how I walk from here.

The “D” Word

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

Posted by Dave

D Block

As I sit here typing this, they’ve just wheeled my wife Hope back for her hysterectomy. The healing from years of struggling with infertility begins for her. Her post from several weeks ago, The M Word, chronicled this journey. She has been hesitant to share her story at times, and understandably so. If there is anything I’ve learned since we’ve been together, women who struggle with infertility deal with a deep sense of hurt and loss. Sometimes it is painful to uncover that, like when you go to the women’s clinic and you’re surrounded by baby and parenting magazines. When Hope and I began discussing marriage several years ago, I told her that I wanted to be there for her to walk through the pain that she still experienced. I had no clue what that meant then, but I now realize that the past six weeks have been that time.

If anyone can have a favorite letter of the alphabet, “D” is my favorite. Lot’s of important things in my life have happened that start with D. David is my first name, and David is my favorite person from the Bible. D is the first letter of divorce, and this seemingly negative word has shaped and changed my life. D is the first letter of my job description and the most honorable title I’ve ever held: DAD. God has blessed me with the opportunity to raise three sons, something that changed the course of my life. I don’t take the responsibility lightly, understanding that God has chosen me to be the one to launch them into manhood.

When Hope and I were dating, we waited three months before we introduced her to my boys. We didn’t take this lightly. Deep down, I wanted to get to know her character to see if I wanted her around my sons. I never take off the “Dad Hat”, so I knew that the woman I chose to have in my life would be responsible for shaping the lives of my sons. I’ll never forget the day that she met my boys. That was the day I knew I wanted her to be my wife. She was a natural with each of them, and over the next several months their response to her confirmed that she was perfectly capable of raising children. Her body didn’t work properly to give her children of her own, yet her motherly instincts are evident in all that she does.

So, not only was I chosen to be a Dad, God also chose me to be Hope’s husband. Meaning that her struggles become my struggles. Meaning that her pain becomes my pain. How do you find the place inside yourself to both be a Dad, and support the one you love who wasn’t able to have children? How do you identify with someone who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have them, and know that you were chosen to be a Dad? These questions have swirled around in my head many times. For me, I’ve discovered the answer to these questions. Another D word: DEVOTION. It is impossible for me to identify with the struggle of infertility. It is impossible for me to put myself in the shoes of someone who desperately wanted children but couldn’t have them. It IS possible for me to be devoted to her.

Being devoted means being committed, it doesn’t mean I have to come up with all of the answers. It isn’t my job to be the “solutionist”, it is my job to be her companion. Sometimes all it takes is just being there.

The “M” Word

/ Hope and Dave / 1 Comment

Mom Blocks

Posted by Hope

Why would I take my pain public? I am not the only one to face infertility. Others live with the hurt I have, and much much worse. You may read this and wonder how or why I’d say the things I say. I’m positive if you were given this same set of circumstances, you’d be a superstar and rock this job like a champ! Me, I’m like the fat kid in gym class that is horribly uncomfortable in the spandex shorts and undersized tee! It’s gonna just kind of hang out there, y’all.

So many ways to make a family in this day and time. With technology and science, there are so many ways we can blend under one roof. Let’s not forget those who chose to be defined as a family without children. I received a reaction to my statement that Dave’s boys “are not mine” in my previous post. I will expand more on that point in a later post, but for now, know that there is a healthy understanding and respect for the title “Mom”. In their life, that position is filled.

On Friday, October 10th, my doctor sat across from me and explained that due to endometriosis I need to have a hysterectomy to address the horrible pain that is plaguing me. Since I couldn’t have children anyway, to him, it made sense to move this direction. This news sent me into a tailspin for days. I couldn’t think, sleep, eat or process a rational thought without applying extreme effort. I have exactly two weeks left to process the loss of my reproductive system. There is part of me that has been begging for this day for decades. Then, there is the woman deep down inside that is grieving terribly. You see, I wanted to have children.

I’d like to think that this means there’s a countdown to the sadness and when I emerge from that hospital on December 3rd that I will have left behind all of the pain. Gone will be the days of slipping into a fantasy about what my own child would have looked like, been named, what their voice would sound like and what they would want to be when they grew up. Left behind would be the dream of them running to me with a skinned knee and being the first person to celebrate moments of discovery with. I romanticize the idea of motherhood alright. In my heart, it is sacred. In my intellect and experience, I know better. I’ve watched the reality from a distance and laughed at the comedy of my fantasy. They talk back, ruin good furniture, change your plans and sometimes end up blaming you for all the things that go wrong in their life. Inevitably, that would’ve been my kid. The Alanis Morrisette song “Ironic” comes to mind when I think about the reality of how my whole Mommy journey would’ve gone.

The fact is that I am more than my body says I am. I have more than I will ever need. I have three little boys to impact with my love. I can be an example to young women in my sphere of influence, can speak into their destinies, provide counsel, guidance and become a “mother” to many. This is truth. But there are days, like today, when the reminder of that tiny package with my DNA on it will not be handed to me. That brings me back to the dark of the soul. The ache that hurts into my bones. Its weight can feel crushing and leave me physically spent.

Supernatural things happen in this kind of grief. It is only here, in hurt like today, that I can be reminded of what is needed to get me off of the floor. It is only by the strength of God that I can walk through a day like this knowing it is just a day and that the hurt will pass and life will move forward and I will be stronger tomorrow. I can allow myself these moments to purge the pain and then exhale, straighten once again and continue the march.

What awaits me? How long will it take to heal? Will I change? Well, I guess that remains to be seen. For now, I’ll take each moment as it comes. While I wait, I worship. Regardless of my pain, regardless of my preference, I worship.

Family UnPlanning

/ Hope and Dave / 2 Comments

Posted by Hope

Family planning is taught early in today’s public education arenas. Beginning in grade school, we learn the function of our sex organs and how they operate (…are supposed to operate). I don’t recall my teachers discussing any of the things that can disrupt fertilization or that conception is actually a complete timing miracle. My sisters and I were raised “not to”. Heavy petting could lead to pregnancy and dad would kill us. So, don’t. I spent most of my young adult life casually planning when my children would make their appearance. It didn’t go as I had planned.

I was told in the second year of my marriage, at the age of 27, that IF I wanted children, I’d better begin trying. After three months of negative tests, I started asking questions, then plunged headlong into two years of fertility treatments. I daydreamed of life as a mom and looked forward to my own brand of Brady Bunch chaos (funny, they were a stepfamily too).
Yes dear friends, I prayed, believed, had faith, fasted, had anointing oil poured on me and prophecies spoken over me all believing for complete healing. I broke curses, renounced unknown sin, repented until I felt bad for feeling human and still was not healed. Finally, after the last negative test result, I became suicidal.

That afternoon, I spent my time thinking about my death. I was shaken sober by my soul screaming that my body did not determine my value. I got up off of the couch, walked into the nursery that I had prepared and gathered up all of the parenting magazines, baby toys and a few baby books and threw them into the garbage. Shaken by the realization that I had sunk to that depth, I spent the next few months dissecting my life with God and made changes in my warped understanding of what a woman was supposed to BE. Through years of building an intimate relationship with God, He tenderly addressed my hurt. Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts. It hurts often, but in time, living with the hurt became easier by getting to know the God who walks through it with me. Even in this special place, it never addressed the big question……WHY?

Commuting home one day, I was pouring my heart out to God in worship. I was out of words, out of prayer, out of strength. As I sang aloud the words to the song that came on, I began listening to what I was singing, “You deserve it all. And I give everything. I have no intention of holding anything back from you.” I broke. The dam burst. I cried from the floor of my soul. As I emptied my grief onto my dashboard and cried with no sense of propriety, I realized in that moment, the WHY didn’t matter anymore. In that moment, the need to understand was of no consequence. I sat in the strong presence of the Lord, knowing that one day, I would understand it all, but it would be diminished in the light of eternity. I embraced the moment and allowed Him to replace my deep need, with Himself. I felt peace wash over me in that moment and the next few days following. Up until that time I felt like God owed me an explanation. If I was going to continue to give my life to Him, it seemed like a fair deal to ask Him to show me why the “Giver of Life” had CHOSEN not to give life to me. But when I was out of fight and in the raw broken place of hurt, it just didn’t even matter anymore. In the breathless place of grief, all I needed was Him. For my very life. And He responded, big.

Years later, as my first marriage died, God reminded me of that place as I navigated separation and divorce. I lived in a broken place for a season again, but this time, with the knowledge and awareness of His faithfulness and sovereignty. I eventually healed and found love again. My second husband has three sons. I am now a step mom. Many believe that I now have my “children”. Although they provide me with an inexhaustible opportunity to love, they are not mine. I am confronted with that regularly. Living in this delicate balance of vulnerability and selflessness has been a challenge. I have failed, but I have conquered too. I lose ground and gain it on a weekly basis. But the dance is so beautiful.