DISCLAIMER! Y’all, before you get into this blog post, I want you to know that the direction I had intended to take did not happen. In fact, I had a completely different title. I guess my heart was pulled to share this testimony, and that God chose to use me in this way. Praise the Lord in all He does & may He continue to use His children as an instrument of His peace.
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Infertility has likely been one of the most difficult things I’ve endured. As someone who grew up thinking that being pregnant would never happen for me due to my health, I always held onto the hope of the ‘what if’. Because I always thought I couldn’t have kids, I never associated myself as part of the “infertility” community; in my mind, infertility was a struggle those went through when they were suddenly faced with it. I was prepared that I wouldn’t have the chance to become pregnant, softening the blow in a way. When I found out that my tubes were clear, and that my endometriosis wasn’t deeply infiltrating my reproductive organs, I felt like a door swung wide open. It was no longer a ‘what if,’ but a ‘when.’ I was prepared with supplements, ovulation predictor kits, a basal body thermometer, and a plethora of fertility books. To put it lightly, I became obsessed. Especially since I was soon to be married and knew becoming parents was something we wanted relatively soon. I was glad I held on to the ‘what if,’ because it seemed like my time was finally coming.
My husband and I felt strongly that God was pulling us to expand our family, but the overwhelming loom of my inconsistent health made things feel even more urgent.
God has always used my health and struggles as a daily testimony of my faith, but infertility hit a little bit deeper. Of course, we wanted to become parents quickly, so the lines blurred; is this what God wants of us, or is this what we want?
Considering we both had early convictions about our purpose as parents and of course, what scripture says, we knew that God wanted us to be parents. The questions we were, and are still left with are: How will we become parents? When will we become parents?
At this time, we recognize that our journey is not conventional, as we are currently relying on In Vitro Fertilization due to our multiple-factor infertility. We have suffered through the early gestational loss of our first child, Eli, and are emotionally overwhelmed. Through this grave loss, we have been pushed to pick up the pieces and continue on our journey. In my prayers, and when thinking about our current situation, I feel a deep presence and the thoughts, “This isn’t the end of your journey- this is just a small part of your story.” When this first came up I was shocked, and as it kept coming up in prayer- I knew God was speaking directly to me. He was answering the prayers I’ve been praying for, but not how I imagined. In the commonly referenced verse, Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord,” I am reminded that God is sovereign over his plan for us. I know this is true because (again), in Jeremiah 1, we are told that He has known us since before our conception and place in our mother’s womb. If this is true- how can I not trust and believe that I am on the path meant for me?
I am in this awkward season of trying all I can while trusting in His process. More times than I can count, I cry out asking why. I am grieving the loss of what I thought my life could be, and of course, the loss we endured. I remember one night I was talking to my husband about the guilt I felt for not being in constant delight of the Lord; where he reminded me of the story of Job. The following day I listened to worship music and was reminded of the abundance of Grace that Christ has for us. It is normal to feel pain, but there is an immense amount of grace (2 Corinthians 12:9-10). The pain that I am feeling is not because of God, it is because of the enemy. God and the enemy are both actively pursuing my heart, and the enemy is willing to do anything to drive a wedge into my faith. Thus, the feelings of depression, anxiety, and pain. Despite all of it, both my feelings of grief and the faith I have in God's plan can coexist. I am allowed to feel the pain and struggle, while also trusting, and the occasional relief knowing that God is by my side. It’s the enemy that tells me both cannot coexist.
While this entire journey is only actively about a year old, it’s been a slow growth of ‘what if’ since being told I couldn’t have children at 12. I’ll admit that I’m preaching to the choir; everything I’m saying is things I must remind myself of DAILY. I’ve always been a person of prayer and faith- but the further I pursue an understanding of our infertility, the stronger I feel the push to just lay it all out for Christ.
While I don’t have a baby growing in me, and may never, I have my faith in the Lord who created me. Maybe our story doesn’t look like me being pregnant at all. My faith will outlast any worldly occurrence- and while that is incredibly difficult to hear at times, I will continue to dive into the word, declare my faith & pray fervently.
Proclaiming your faith invites God at that moment, and the Lord knows I need Him more than ever.
Lord, I pray that this testimony brings glory to You. My story is Yours, and may it be used for Your will. The heartache I endure is real, deep, and valid- but, with you, anything can be conquered. I proclaim that my husband and I will become earthly parents, but may it be according to your will. May You watch over those who are silently fighting the same battle, and that they may feel comfort in Your presence, even if for a moment.
Amen.
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