Infertility | Dwell in Me

August 19, 2013
by Tori 7 Comments

Life Isn’t Always Easy

Several months ago a woman in my small group made an interesting comment. Essentially, she said that before she was a Christian her life had been difficult but now that she is a Christian everything is going smoothly for her. She talked about how she had been trying to convince her mother to start following Christ so her life would be simpler and she would have fewer problems.

I guess there is a small nugget of truth in that, as there is in many false teachings that are easy to believe. After all, Jesus says, “Come to me all you who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.” He says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28–30).

We have the ability to cast our cares and our burdens on Jesus. And the lightening that follows can truly change a life. I have been praying for some time that Christ would help me carry the burden of infertility, and I have recently written of the peace I have today that I believe is completely from God. But that peace doesn’t change my circumstances. It affects my attitude and my daily posture, but it isn’t a complete solution to my problem. I still long to be a mother.

I would submit that this view seems fine until something goes wrong. Different people have different tolerances for what that means. But if you believe that as long as you love the Lord things will go smoothly for you, what must you think as soon as the road becomes bumpy and difficult to travel? If the first premise is correct, then what follows from hardship?

Someone failed. Maybe you failed to love God enough. What follows is a quick slide into a works-based salvation, where your right standing with God is dependent on your own actions. And what we will find if right standing is dependent on us is that we are not good enough for God. We cannot be good enough for God.

Alternatively, maybe God has failed to provide for you. Maybe you question whether the Word is true when it says that God will “work all things for the good of those who love him, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). Maybe you start to wonder if God has abandoned you or left your side. Maybe you doubt his leadership in your life or his ability to bless you.

If you believe your Christian walk includes a promise that everything will go smoothly all the time, something’s got to give when hardship finds you. And hardship will probably find you. Jesus said, “In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33b).

There are two main directions hardship can push us: away from God or closer to him. In hardship, we can choose to put our faith in a God who sees the whole picture and knows the whole plan. We can choose to trust him completely even when our difficulty and pain doesn’t make sense to us. We can choose to believe him despite the difficulty inherent in our circumstance.

Or we can choose to give up on him. We can decide we don’t trust him. We can feel betrayed, like we have been taken where we didn’t want to go and put in places we didn’t think we’d be in despite, or perhaps even because of, God. We can decide God is not bigger than our problems. Or that he doesn’t actually care. Or that he’s not actually present in our lives.

And if you start with the premise that Christian faith makes life easy, you’re setting yourself up to fall into that second category. You believe, even if you don’t articulate it, that when you face hardship, someone must have failed. And if God fails you, is it worth it to believe in him? And if you’ve failed God, can you ever dig yourself out of the hole you’re in?

If you thought the Christian walk would be an easy one and you’re finding it’s not—take heart. God is working all things—even bad things—for our good. He promises to do that. But he does not promise that life will be easy. That’s not in the book. And it’s okay to be upset about what we don’t understand. It’s okay to cry out to the Lord. He’s a big God. He can take it.

Not only that, but he knows your pain. He cares about you. He loves you. And he is always there for you.

“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” Deuteronomy 31:8

August 16, 2013
by Tori 6 Comments

Five-Minute Friday: Small

Every Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker provides a prompt for “Five-Minute Friday“: Write for five minutes only–no editing, no rewriting. This week’s prompt is “Small.” Here goes . . .

~~~

Like matchbox cars and Barbie-doll clothes. The things we played with as children. When we went to Goodwill to drop off a load of clothes and an old suitcase and a duplicate set of measuring cups, we took a couple of those little matchbox cars. Two of them that DH had hung onto and his mom had hung onto. Two that had ended up at our house when we moved to Texas.

But we kept one of them. One especially fancy tiny car. The hood opens and inside there are little tools, including a tiny tire iron. We kept it because it turns out that just after you’ve grown out of wanting to play with those small things that are reflections of the full-size grown-up version there’s a new small thing you want. And that small thing might one day want to play with the same small things that we played with. Or at least to see them. And who wouldn’t be impressed by Dad’s “vintage” toy car with a teeny tiny tire iron?

So it’s sitting on top of the extra refrigerator in our garage (something else, incidentally, that will be more useful when there are children). A sign that we haven’t given up our hope yet. That we’re still waiting and looking forward to having a little one or three or four or however many the good Lord decides to ultimately bless us with in the end.

TIME

August 12, 2013
by Tori 4 Comments

Serving the Lord Best

From my Bible study this morning:

“I want you to be free from the concerns of this life. An unmarried man can spend his time doing the Lord’s work and thinking how to please him. But a married man has to think about his earthly responsibilities and how to please his wife. His interests are divided. In the same way, a woman who is no longer married or has never been married can be devoted to the Lord and holy in body and in spirit. But a married woman has to think about her earthly responsibilities and how to please her husband. I am saying this for your benefit, not to place restrictions on you. I want you to do whatever will help you serve the Lord best, with as few distractions as possible.” (I Corinthians 7: 32-35)

This is Paul talking. I was reading it and wondering a few things that aren’t relevant to this post (such as, is this a message that applies today or was Paul speaking in the context of persecution or something?). I am so very happy to be married (and married to my wonderful DH–who I wouldn’t trade for anything), so I have always kind of glossed over this part. And Paul states clearly that the notion not to marry is not a commandment, just something that might make things better or simpler for the believers. And, as we see in this passage, not marrying might free a person to better serve the Lord.

I think there is truth in this for the married person as well as the unmarried person. I am sure I have distractions in my life that prevent me from serving God as well as I could. As a Christ-follower, I should strive to eliminate these distractions where I can. Is TV keeping me from serving God? I can turn it off. Am I so caught up in a flurry of activities I don’t have time to get in the Word? I should cut things out. And so on.

That doesn’t extend to my husband–and I don’t think he’s a distraction in my service to God. He’s there to help spur me on and encourage me to serve the Lord according to my calling. And I hope I am able to encourage him in the same way.

But maybe it can frame where I am now. As I continue to wait for children, are there ways I can serve God that will be more difficult or “impossible” when I do have children?

Lately I’ve been seeing a lot of ways infertility has caused me to look at things like health/nutrition in a new way, which should make me a better parent. But I’m also beginning to consider how God might use me now, while I’m waiting.

I’ve talked about going to seminary for a long time. It’s something I feel called to at least apply for, but I’ve been putting it off. I envisioned going to seminary someday in the far off future. Definitely after we had kids. And I think I figured if I put it off long enough I wouldn’t end up going. I was okay with that.

Lately it has been made clear to me that I need to apply to seminary and I need to do it soon. So no more excuses. If I have this time of childlessness and waiting, I need to use it for God’s glory. Wednesday I’m going to talk to my pastor about the process and see if he will be able to write me a recommendation. The application isn’t due until April, and a lot can change between now and then, but I’m doing what I need to do. This is one way to serve the Lord best in the situation I’m in. A way to be fruitful in my year of fruitfulness, even without multiplying.

August 9, 2013
by Tori 10 Comments

Five-Minute Friday: Lonely

Every Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker provides a prompt for “Five-Minute Friday“: Write for five minutes only–no editing, no rewriting. This week’s prompt is “Lonely.” Here goes . . .

~~~

I’ve become all-too familiar with loneliness. It comes with the territory of infertility. And frankly, I’m over it.

Infertility struck at a time when I was destined to feel lonely anyway. New city, new state, new church, new house. Everything that’s new feels so cold and empty before you get to know it. Well, except in Houston, where it’s always humid instead.

Empty Bedroom

When we found out we were infertile, there wasn’t anyone local to turn to–not that we would have turned to anyone anyway. We were shocked. And scared. Lonely anyway, embarrassed by a diagnosis we never expected.

We slowly told a few people. DH’s parents. My parents. Some of our closest friends from DC–which wasn’t our “back home” but somehow felt like it. But at some level, they can’t relate. And it’s harsh to say that, but it feels true. Even now, when I know that I’m not the only one who suffers, that we all carry our own little secrets and challenges and battle scars. But I suffer in this way, a way that seems unfamiliar and unrelatable to my mommy-friends who have more toddler than they can handle right now and like to offer, “take mine.”

But Lonely and I have been fighting and Lonely is losing. I’m kicking it out. I’m meeting people. Getting deep–though maybe not as deep as I could. We still play infertility tight to the chest until we’re sure and it’s necessary, and the knowing might somehow help the other person.

Feeling less lonely nonetheless. And thankful. For the things we have learned. For the little battles over loneliness that we have won. For a God who lets me know every time I need to know it, that he is here and he knows and he understands.

TIME

August 7, 2013
by Tori 2 Comments

Gluten-Minimized Diet

This week marks the start of our “gluten-minimized” diet. As I mentioned last week, infertility has really encouraged us to make some changes to our diets. Apparently gluten can be blamed for a whole host of problems, so we’ve been thinking about minimizing gluten anyway.

On Saturday, at an acupuncture appoinment, we asked the doctor (she is an MD–and used to be an OB/GYN practitioner) about gluten. Her thoughts:

Most Americans eat too much gluten.

No harm can come from minimizing the amount of gluten in our diets.

Being completely gluten-free isn’t necessary unless a disease or severe intolerance is present (such as celiac), but we may see benefits from cutting back on our gluten intake.

That last point was really what we wanted to know. Is gluten an all or nothing deal? A lot of people claim that it is, but we aren’t ready to be dietary extremists. The idea of getting rid of gluten when eating at home is a little overwhelming (DH loves his whole-wheat cereal, for example), but manageable. But getting rid of gluten in our diets when out to eat or at a friend’s house seemed too much. At least, more than we’re willing to commit to for now.

So, beginning with this week, I am no longer buying or making foods with gluten in them. To clarify, I’m not worried about trace amounts, like in some condiments. We are trying to make gluten-free choices where possible when we do go out to eat. And when we’re choosing the restaurant, we’re trying to go places that will have healthy options. But when we’re with others, our motto is flexibility.

So why gluten-minimized?

We’ve come to the decision gradually. We hemmed and hawed about it quite a bit before deciding officially (this weekend) to take the plunge. We’ve debated. And there are several reasons we decided to do this.

I read this article discussing how gluten acts like glue. In bread, this is how it traps the air bubbles that yeast releases. For some reason the thought of what that meant gluten might be doing in my stomach and intestines suddenly seemed really repulsive. That may not have been a deciding factor, but it’s helped keep my desire for breads at bay.
When I read through the symptoms of gluten intolerance (and celiac), I was alarmed at how many sounded familiar to me. If severely reducing gluten could get rid of or minimize my fatigue, near-daily headaches, occasional migraines, and unexplained muscle and joint pain, I’m in. So beyond worrying about the link between infertility and gluten (which is apparently actual for people with celiac and possible for people with gluten intolerance), maybe cutting back on gluten can help my health.
I can’t find any downsides to significantly cutting back our gluten intake. The websites that caution against cutting gluten all talk about how gluten-free foods (as in processed foods that are made without gluten) may in some cases be less nutritive than their gluten-filled counterparts. They talk about the importance of getting the nutrients that we need–which means eating more whole foods, healthy meats, etc. But none of them have presented any convincing evidence that eating gluten is beneficial or necessary for a healthy diet.
The real deciding factor is that we don’t want to get to the final steps of treatment and feel like there may have been something else we could have done. If cutting gluten has a chance to help relieve or lessen our infertility, we’re going to try it.

So that’s it. I may venture into the world of gluten-free baking at some point (been craving banana bread, so that will likely be first) and I am definitely not cooking with gluten. If I come across (or create) something especially delicious or disastrous, I may share in coming weeks.

*And, of course, a gluten-minimized or gluten-free diet may not be for you. If you are concerned, please consult a medical professional. I am not a medical professional.*

August 5, 2013
by Tori 1 Comment

Don’t Call Me Infertile

I’m not an infertile anymore.

My circumstances have not changed. What’s changed is my emphasis. From the day of our diagnosis to a few months ago, my life revolved around and centered on infertility. If you asked me how I was doing, my first thought was about infertility and how it was ruining my life. My smiles were fake and plastered on when that was an appropriate response, but on the inside I couldn’t overcome my pain. I stopped wearing mascara to church because the praise and worship songs we sang would bring tears to my eyes–often out of despair and a feeling that God wasn’t extending his might and power and wonder to my situation.

More than anything, I wanted God to take this burden of infertility. I meant, of course, that I wanted him to reach down into our lives, heal us, make me pregnant. I wanted it to all go away. I still want our infertility to end, but God did take the burden. He took the burden of infertility and gave me peace in my circumstances. He let me know, in my gut, that he is in control and that his plan is better. He answered that prayer.

And that peace has been life-changing and life-giving. I wasn’t really living when I kept myself trapped in this negative, despairing world of infertility. Infertile isn’t exactly an inaccurate word to describe me, but it’s also not the word to describe me. And knowing that? It has made a huge difference in my feeling of self-worth, in my experience of true joy, and in my ability to give of myself to others. Praise God for this new freedom from the negative words I was using to keep myself down.

And I’m able to see that there have been ways infertility has blessed my life. Infertility has challenged me to deepen my trust in God and to give up on fear and worry. Because of infertility, my relationship with my husband has grown deeper. He has become a stronger spiritual leader, and I have learned to lean on him more. We have made (and are making) lifestyle changes that will make our home a better, healthier environment for us and any future children. We’ve learned a lot about how we handle extreme stress. And we’ve put our priorities in order. We have become more empathetic and compassionate for others. We still have a long way to go, and I still hope we will have biological children–even without needing ART–but there is no question we have grown from infertility.

When you ask me now how I am, infertility might not be the first thing that comes to mind. When you tell me that you’re pregnant, I can smile and feel genuinely happy about the new life growing inside you. (Okay, full disclosure: when you complain about your pregnancy–well, I’m still working on an appropriate response to that.) And when I’m singing worship songs I may still tear up–but it’s more likely out of joy and awe of my great God than despair.

So who am I? I’m a Christ-follower. I’m a woman. I’m a wife. I’m {hopefully} a future mom. I’m a blogger and a copyeditor. I’m a small group leader. I’m a child of the one true King.

And I love this song by Matthew West that reminds me of what’s true.

July 31, 2013
by Tori 10 Comments

Conscientious Eating

Now, a year into our official IF diagnosis, I can look back and see a few ways that we have actually benefited from infertility. Would I have chosen infertility as the mode for these benefits? Probably not. But it wasn’t my decision, and I’m trying to make the most of our circumstances.

One of the benefits of infertility for us has been the improvements in our diet. Well, I guess more than that, the improvements in how we think about food. If we ever do receive the blessing of children, I am confident that this knowledge and how we are incorporating that knowledge in our meals will be beneficial for their nutrition as well. And I doubt we would have cared very much about this subject had we not received our infertility diagnosis.

As we dove into research about infertility, a few things kept coming up about the food we were eating. Recognizing that infertility is ultimately a health issue–that we are dealing on some level with an imbalance in hormone levels–we have embarked on a journey to try to improve our health. This includes exercise, going to bed at a reasonable hour, and, of course, eating better. To clarify, we’re not trying to improve our diets in an effort to lose weight (though, I must admit, there is a little extra hanging around my hips that I wouldn’t mind getting rid of).

Lucky for me, DH will eat anything. (Seriously. If he doesn’t like a food but is convinced of its health benefits, he will eat it anyway.) And the foods I don’t particularly like, while bordering on un-American, tend not to be good for me (hot dogs, potato chips, lunch meat). So making adjustments to improve our diets isn’t so much of a problem of not liking nutritious foods as it is not knowing where to start.

As I started researching all things nutrition, I quickly found myself overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information. And it’s not straightforward and scientific: everybody seems to have their own opinion. Cut gluten. Cut dairy. To be healthy, eat more fats. Cut out all the fats. Follow a simple “calories in, calories out” equation. Don’t pay attention to calories, but eat whole, healthy, natural foods. Low carb. Paleo. No refined sugars. No sugars at all (maybe or maybe not including fruit). Take a teaspoon of [enter choice: honey, apple cider vinegar, cod liver oil, grass-fed cows’ butter, all of the above] daily. And on and on and on.

I haven’t figured this out yet. Not even close. But I thought I’d share what we are doing and what I am learning as I keep trying to distill the information I have and, where applicable, share some healthful (or maybe not, depending on your take on the theories alluded to above) recipes or meals we have enjoyed.

We’re considering some more drastic changes going forward. But we also want to be flexible. We’re not extremists, and that extends to our nutrition. If I’m at your house for dinner, I’m not going to be checking ingredients and debating whether to eat what you’re serving. I’m not going to choose not to go out with friends because the restaurant won’t have healthy options (and, sadly, most of the restaurants here in Katy are lacking nutritious food). But we are trying to make healthier decisions when we can.

The overarching theory we’re kind of following–if it can be boiled down to any overarching theory–is that whole, unprocessed foods are likely more healthful and nutritious than their processed counterparts. Of all the nutrition information I’ve read, that makes the most sense to me. I’ll go into more detail on what we are and are not eating in future posts.

If you’re trying to eat better, where did you start?

What advice would you share with someone trying to make improvements?

Is a gradual approach better than nothing, or do you need to go all or nothing to see health benefits?

What theories of nutrition do you absolutely buy into–or absolutely disagree with?

July 29, 2013
by Tori 4 Comments

When Plans Change

There are things that are naturally hard for us. And we can go with the flow and get pushed backwards sometimes, or we can fight against those challenges to get where we need to go.

I took this video of salmon in a fish ladder last summer when we were vacationing in Oregon and Washington State. On our way from Oregon to Washington, we stopped at Bonneville Dam on the Columbia River and got to see the fish swimming upstream. In the video, you can see that sometimes they seem to be making great progress, when all of a sudden the current overwhelms them and they are pushed backward, only to have to do it all again (see especially the little fish starting at about 00:12).

I think–and this may be wildly inaccurate–that we face certain tests in this life over and again until we can pass them.

For me, one of those tests I keep failing and retaking has to do with changing plans.

For some reason, I am terrible at this. If I make a plan–even if it’s just in my mind–I intend to follow through on it. Now, I’m quite forgiving of myself. See, today I was planning on doing some little chores around the house–vacuuming and dusting and so forth–but I’m not doing them today because I had a headache earlier and I’m on my period and I can do them tomorrow. I’m so very flexible with myself.

But when my plans have to change because of other people, I am less forgiving. And if I know you well enough, like my poor DH, I may get angry or at least frustrated about the change in plan. I’m really terrible.

And the truth is, sometimes plans change. Definitely more often than I’d like.

Once, a few years ago, DH was really sick. Now, he is a boy, so “really sick” for him is maybe or maybe not the same as “really sick” for me. But anyway, he stayed home from work and was certainly not feeling well. We were living in Arlington, VA, and were supposed to go that evening to an event to see Elinor Ostrom speak. She won the Nobel prize in economics in 2009, so I suppose this was in the fall of 2010. I went to work and DH stayed in bed. And then, after work, I went to see Ms. Ostrom speak, as I’d planned.

DH didn’t appreciate my going. He thought I should have come home and taken care of him instead. And maybe I should have.

I don’t like it when plans change.

I didn’t like it when our plans to get pregnant two years ago did not come to fruition. I was concerned something must be wrong within the first few months because things weren’t proceeding according to plan.

But I’ve noticed this problem I have. I’ve made enormous strides with all the plan-changng and rearranging we’ve dealt with in our IF treatments. And I’m trying to get over it. I handled our move to College Station and, shortly thereafter, to Katy quite well considering that both moves were not according to our plan. I’m evolving and maturing and getting good at this whole plan-changing thing!

And isn’t it funny that when you think you’ve mastered a new skill a little, tiny, insignificant test comes along and you fall flat on your face?

This morning, I was running a little behind what I had planned. I did my grocery shopping, albeit about 2 hours later than I’d wanted to leave the house. I’d created a to-do list that would have been completely doable if I’d not been behind but which would be tight now that I was late. I was sitting on the back patio reading my Bible study workbook for my small group tomorrow night, nodding right along as I read, “Complete obedience to God requires a commitment to modify and change our plans at a moment’s notice,”* when my phone rang.

Now, DH never calls me from work. But here it was, 12:07 p.m., and our conversation went like this:

ME: Is something wrong?

DH: No. I was wondering, could you take my car for an oil change this afternoon?

[He had switched cars with me this morning to avoid driving many more miles before getting the oil changed.]

ME: Oh. Really? I thought you were going to do it. I don’t know…

DH: I found a place. I can make an appointment. It’s right by the house and it’s much less expensive than anything I can find near the office. You can do it tomorrow. Or, well, any day this week. Does any time work for you?

ME: I wish you’d told me earlier. I mean, if I’d known, I would have taken it before I went to the store. Now I have other things I’ve planned to do . . . whine . . . whine . . . [You get the idea.]

DH: Never mind. I’ll do it myself tomorrow. Thanks anyway.

I turned back to my Bible study and reread the paragraph I’d been reading when he called me, “. . . a commitment to modify and change our plans at a moment’s notice,” and I knew I had failed this test . . . again.

I did end up getting the oil changed. But I was so whiny about it, and I made it such a chore. I suppose I should be glad I was able to redeem my failure and that this test was just a little thing.

I’m still learning.

And that evil, current still gets me backsliding when I least expect it.

—

*Quotation from Priscilla Shirer, Discerning the Voice of God: How to Recognize When God Speaks, member book (Nashvile, TN: LifeWay Press, 2006), 112.

July 24, 2013
by Tori Leave a comment

Because of Infertility

Years after the car accident–the one she was in as a six-year-old that took her sister’s life–Shelly still suffered from survivor’s guilt. It came and went over the years, but the idea that she should have at least suffered physically, instead of walking away from the wreck, haunted her.

At one point, when she’d thought she had finally gotten past the lingering effects of the accident, Shelly began to have terrible dreams. Night after night she would awaken after seeing herself maimed and injured, but never killed, in her dreams.

As she was walking across her college campus one day after a particularly vivid dream, she felt God speak clearly to her. He first reminded her that she was physically fine. None of these things in her imagination or thoughts from her subconscious had happened. But what he followed with is why I’m telling this story:

Think, he said, If you were maimed or severely injured, think of the people you would be able to reach for me and for my glory that you cannot connect with currently. Think of the great work I would have for you that you would be able to accomplish because of–not in spite of–such a physical challenge.*

She thought about it and laughed. Of course God was right. Of course he would be able to use anything that happened in her life for good and for his glory. At the realization, as this sunk in, she says she felt her spirits lift. A burden of worry and a weight of fear were lifted.

And the dreams stopped. To this day–and she has grown children now–she has not had nightmares or feelings of survivor’s guilt.

I think the lesson translates as easily to infertility as to any other struggles that we, through our human eyes, see as hindering our ability to be successful or happy. I know there are things I do because of infertility that I wouldn’t be able to do if I’d gotten pregnant right away. God can use me in a way I never would have expected because I haven’t been able to have children. Especially if I’m willing to surrender and listen to him.

God will use us in the shape we’re in. And he will use the imperfections, the challenges, the pain, the heartaches in our lives to use us in different and better ways. He will truly work all things to the good of those who love him, who are called according to his purposes.

____

*There are no direct quotations from God in this post. I’m paraphrasing from a second-hand source. But I did my best to recreate what I heard and stay true to the point of the message.

Shelly told this story to a group of women in a Bible study through my church. She told it, and many other stories from her life and other’s lives, because faith stories build faith, as she said. And she graciously gave me permission to share this story here.

July 22, 2013
by Tori 4 Comments

Out of My Head, into My Heart

I’m not a very emotional person–at least compared to other women I know. I live my life through my head. It’s hard–so hard–for me to get things into my heart.

I think sometimes this means I’m not a very compassionate person. I struggle with sympathy, not to mention empathy.

People talk about feeling someone’s pain so deep that it feels like it’s their pain. Or seeing something beautiful and just feeling this little twinge of emotion that flows up like something real and tangible.

Not me.

Like a white-washed tomb–my heart felt empty and unmoved inside this body.

One of the biggest struggles I’ve had through infertility is convincing my heart that what I believe in my head is true. I’ve called this the head knowledge-gut faith disconnect.

And one of the biggest blessings of infertility is that my heart seems to be working better. Like infertility is the hammer that has broken my heart open and at the same time knocked down the walls I’d built around it. The feeling is coming back, empathy and compassion are slowly seeping in. Not perfect, but gradually coming to life within me.

That opening up makes me hurt more. Opening up lets in the good with the bad, the pain with the joy, the heartache with the peace. And it is what enables me to trust that what God says is true, that God is who he says he is. That God is everything to me. These weren’t possible with my hardened, sealed up heart.

So today, my heart is aching. Aching for one of my only “real life” friends who is dealing with this infertility mess. Her embryo didn’t make it in her first IVF transfer.

And she says she is struggling with this same head knowledge-gut faith disconnect right now.

Praying for her today. For her faith and trust in God. For peace and strength. And for beauty in the pain of death.

And thanking God that he has used infertility for my good and his glory. That I can be there for my friend because of where I’ve been and where I’m going.

I may have picked a different road in life. But God knew where I needed to be today and how to get me here.

Dwell in Me

Seeking God in the Every Day

Category Archives: Infertility