Surrender

    A few days ago I was laying outside, (gettin' my tan on!), and as I lay there, I was thinking and praying  (there's not a lot else to do...).   And I came to the realization that it was time (or, you know, way past time) for me to surrender my infertility to God.     
    A week and a half ago I posted about how I feel like I'm slowly moving toward acceptance of my infertility.  That's not a bad place to be.  But today I want to talk to you about surrender, and how it's different than acceptance.     

Surrender involves acceptance, but it's more than that.
According to Wikipedia : "Surrender is willful acceptance and yielding to a dominating force and their will."
    Surrendering means giving up any control I think I have.  It means giving the situation to God for Him to take care of...  and leaving it there.  It means becoming completely helpless, and instead putting complete faith in Him.  It means acknowledging to the fullest that He is in control and that His plan is best. That His timing is best. Not just saying and knowing those things are true, but believing it and acting on it.  It means trusting Him...  which means not worrying.  Not dwelling on it.

   I know this will be an on-going process.  And I'm not really sure what it will look like.  Mentally, I have an idea, but I don't know what it will look like as far as the things I'm doing.  Does it mean that I stop all charting?  Does it mean that I don't seek medical advice?  Does it mean that I stop reading infertility books/blogs?  Does it mean that I stop blogging? I don't know. It doesn't mean I'll forget about it, or stop hoping.

I am not really familiar with the God's Word Translation of the Bible, but I like the way they translated Psalm 37:7a  "Surrender yourself to the LORD, and wait patiently for him. "


-MNM

"Be Careful What You Pray For"

    Has anyone ever told you "Be careful what you pray for - you just might get it!"?  I'm not a huge fan of that phrase.  I find that it implies that God isn't sovereign, but instead just gives us whatever we pray for, no matter whether good or bad.

(Of course, the last time someone said something like that to me was in reference to me wanting kids.  Yeah, that one didn't go over too well.)  

But, today, I'm here to tell you just that.  Except not because I think that God's plan is wrong, but because it's way harder than I ever would have imagined it would be.  I have two specific instances to relate:

    1.  When I was about 16, watching so many of my peers go through relationship after relationship and heartbreak after heartbreak, I prayed earnestly that the only man I would ever date would be the one that I married.  God answered that prayer...  5 years later, when I re-met the man I would marry. Which was about 3 years after I wanted that prayer answered.  

For those 3 years, my "prime dating years", I was so very lonely, and wondered what was wrong with me.  It was hard.   

    But now, I have no regrets in praying that prayer. I am so incredibly glad that I was able to enter the relationship with my now-husband without a history.  He was my first everything.  First date, first kiss, everything.  And that is so nice to know (and to make it even better - I was the only girl he ever dated too!).

    

        2.  Several years ago (I don't remember when exactly, but before I got married) I decided that I was going to let God determine the size of my family.  Typically that means not preventing pregnancy by any unnatural means.  I was all ready to do just that - I knew of plenty of families who were living that way, and I thought it was great.  But now here we are, 3 years into our marriage, with no kids.  So now I have to remind myself of my resolution - because I am still having to trust God to determine the size of my family.  But now, instead of trusting Him for how many children He wants us to have, I'm trusting Him to give us any children.  Period.  And it's oh so hard.   

    I do not doubt God's sovereignty.  I know that He is in control and that His plan is best for me.  I truly believe that He was the one who led me to pray both of those prayers in the first place - I believe that they were according to His will and are part of His plan.
    So when I say "Be careful what you pray for", I simply mean that sometimes what we pray for, even if it is in God's will, and is ultimately the best, the journey to get to the answer may be incredibly hard. 

  It's like He's saying "Remember how you decided to trust me to take care of this?  Trust me."

-MNM

National Infertility Awareness Week

*Disclaimer: Header photo was not made by me, and I make no claims on it.  It comes from this blog, who I highly recommend that you follow!  
This week is National Infertility Awareness Week.  As I mentioned in this post, one of the big reasons that I
even have this blog is for Infertility Awareness.  I don't like that it's a taboo subject and that everyone (those
who are dealing with it and those who are not) skirts around the subject.

I want you to be aware of the fact that there are many people around you who are unable to have the children that they so desire.  And while you are frustrated with your children, they are longing to have children to be frustrated with.


I want you to be aware so that you can be a bit more mindful before you ask the hurtful questions or say the hurtful things.

I want you to be aware so that you can have a little more grace for people.  This doesn't only apply to the people around you who are struggling with infertility, by the way.  We need to have more grace for everyone around us.  And I have a feeling we would be, if we only knew what they were going through.


Please, just be aware.

-MNM
PS.  I plan on writing at least a couple more posts this week, so stay tuned.

Acceptance

    I know I haven't been writing as much as I was when I started this blog.  I would apologize, but in reality, it's an indication that I'm in a better place than I was.  And for that I won't apologize.

    I've started to realize that emotionally I'm slowly improving. I don't know when/why the shift occurred, but I think it was probably just gradual enough that I didn't notice it.  
  I feel like instead of constantly being in the "waiting" stage, I have started to move on with my life.  Recently I had to make a choice as to whether or not to get a (mostly) full-time job.  The fact that I was willing to (even though it didn't pan out), whereas previously just the thought made me very anxious (I didn't want to make a commitment to a job when I knew as soon as I had a child I'd quit), was an indication to me that I am at the point where I can accept that we're just not going to have kids at this point in our life. Coming to that realization hurt a little bit, but I knew it was a good thing.
    Now, even though I am in a better place, it doesn't mean that I don't still hope to be pregnant every month.  It doesn't mean that I don't still shed tears in hopelessness and heartbreak every so often.
    But it does mean that I don't shed tears as often. 
It doesn't mean that my heart didn't ache this week when I saw two of my friends posts, back-to-back, on Facebook about their little girls.
    But instead of only hurt, I can see my friends' children and smile/laugh at how adorable they are.
It doesn't mean that it won't hurt a little when, in the next few weeks, two tiny new people will be added to families that are a big part of my life.
    I can't wait to meet and hold and cuddle these two new baby girls.   
 

I am coming a place of acceptance. 6 months ago I didn't know if I would ever reach this point.

~MNM
 

Why Do I Blog About Infertility?

    There are 3 reasons that I started this blog that focuses on infertility.
       1. So that people who know and love me can start to understand what I'm going through.
       2. So others who are going the same thing can know that they're not alone, and that all these thoughts and feelings are normal.
       3. I was tired of living in a secret because I felt like it was taboo to talk about infertility.

   Number 3 is something I'm passionate about right now.  The number of people I consider friends who have contacted me and said they're going through the same thing is astounding.  It breaks my heart.  But I likely never would have known if I hadn't said anything first.  This also breaks my heart.

    Why is infertility such a taboo subject that we feel like it's a secret we have to keep? Sometimes it's our own choice.  But other times, we feel like it would be frowned on to disclose it.

    Don't get me wrong - I don't want my infertility to just come up whenever, by whomever. It is still a very personal thing.  But I also don't like feeling like it's something I have to hide.  I understand that some people who are going through this may not ever want to talk about it.  It may just be too painful.  Or they may be ashamed. They may be tired of the looks of sympathy.  I'm not just blaming everyone else (ie: those who are not dealing with infertility) for the subject being taboo.  It comes from both sides.  Those who are struggling with infertility don't want others to look down on them/pity them for their inadequacies (because that's what it feels like), and so they hide it.  But because they hide it, when others do find out, they have no clue how to interact/relate/offer support. So they either say the wrong thing and make us feel like they are saying "Oh, how cute.  You're so worried about this, but it's not that big a deal.  Just try [some old wives tale]!"* Or they say nothing at all, and we think they don't care. So we keep hiding it, so as not to be hurt again. It's a vicious cycle.

But, by us keeping it as a secret, we're missing out on something important - the support of those who do know what we're going through. Before I "went public" with my infertility, I only knew of one of my friends who was also infertile.  Since I started sharing it instead of hiding it, I have heard of 1, 2, 3, 4... etc friends who are either currently struggling with infertility (whether first time or secondary), or who struggled to conceive the child/children they now have.   And while it breaks my heart to know how many people that I call friends know this pain - it's also good to know that I'm not alone in this.  And I feel like I can reach out to them as well.

Another positive thing about not keeping my infertility a secret is that now the people who know me aren't going to (or at least are way less likely to) say/ask the hurtful things.  ;)

So, for those of you who have never known this pain: when you find out that someone you care about is struggling with infertility, be gentle. Let them know you love them, and are praying for them.  Anything more than that will depend on who the person is and what your relationship with them is.  More than anything, do pray for them.  You can pray that they will be healed, and blessed with children, but also pray that they will know God's peace.

For those of you who are broken-hearted as you struggle to achieve the one thing you want more than anything yet have very little control over - you don't have to start a blog and let the whole world know what you're going through.  But I encourage you to let those who care about you know.  They want to love you.  And knowing how you're hurting will help them know how to love you. Trust me.  And they will minister to you in ways that will make you weep.


I don't write this blog because I want people's sympathy.  The encouraging words I've received in response are exactly that - encouraging.  But I write this blog because I want others to know that while I don't have any answers, I do understand their pain.  Please, if you are also going through this and need someone, either to vent to, cry with, or just to "share the secret" with, contact me.

-MNM


*real life experience.  The lady didn't actually say this exact thing to me, but that's how it came across.

Learning to Trust

    I feel like God has been teaching me to trust a lot for the past 5 years (or maybe for the past 8 years...). There are a few specific instances that were completely out of my control and I could only trust Him for it.  For example:
    Trusting Him to show me what to do after I graduated from high school.  I feel like that was an on-going thing for a couple of years, as I bounced from thing to thing.  I have some great memories from those years, and met some awesome people.
    Trusting Him to bring my husband into my life.  That didn't happen until 3 1/2 years after I graduated high school, which was a lot longer than I wanted to wait, but of course God knew best and I'm ever so glad he put his plan into action when He did.
    Trusting Him to orchestrate our love story. The entire thing, from when we met to when we got married, was long distance - 1000 miles long distance.  We saw each other for a week at a time every three months, for a year and a half.  It was rough.  But again, God knew what He was doing, and now we have a pretty fun story to tell!
    Trusting Him with being married while my husband was finishing up school.  Well, he did graduate, and here we are!
    Trusting Him through some horrendous stuff happening around us that greatly affected us.  It's still hard to see the good that came of the situation, but Ido know that relationships were strengthened.
    Trusting Him with where to live. I'm pretty sure we're right where he wants us for now.
 
    Then there are the things that I'm still being asked to trust Him in:
    Trusting Him to give us a child in His timing.  This has been ongoing for a couple of years.  It's been one of the hardest things of my life.  But I do trust Him, and His timing.
    Trusting him to provide for us financially.  This has also been ongoing since we got married, and I know that it's something we'll always have to trust Him for.  But right now, as we're young and trying to get settled, it's a bit more obvious that we need Him.
    Trusting Him to give us wisdom to know what direction He is leading in our lives in general.

    I've felt poignantly that God is teaching/has taught me to trust Him in these areas.  But then, when is He not asking us to trust Him?  Am I just really bad at trusting?  I'm not really sure...  because part of me feels like if I'm not aware of having to trust Him, I am then borderline taking His provision for granted.

    I know that everyone says to trust Him day to day, or paycheck to paycheck.  I've gotten even more specific, for my own sanity (looking at the long term is way too stressful).
    So now I am trusting Him:
    bill to bill to provide for us financially.
   and month to month with my fertility.

I am trusting Him in other areas too, of course, but these are the two that I've realized specifically recently.

Trusting God is an on-going process.  I accept that. Nay, not only do I accept that- I rejoice in it. I'm so glad that He is in control, and I am not.

-MNM

Ps.  Sorry it's been longer than normal since I posted anything here.  I recently started a new job and have had to readjust to all of that.

Unsung Lullabies

    I've been reading this book for the past few weeks, called Unsung Lullabies: Understanding and Coping with Infertility by Drs. Janet Jaffe, Martha Ourieff Diamond and David J Diamond.  The authors are clinical psychologists, who started the Center for Reproductive Psychology in San Diego, after they themselves went through infertility.
    There were many times while I was reading this book that I just cried.  The thoughts and emotions that they address as normal for a couple going through infertility were all too familiar.  Even just the chapter titles hit home.  For example:
This Wasn't How it Was Supposed To Be
The Pain of Hope: Why Does it Hurt So Bad?
The Losses of Infertility
How Can I Be an Adult if I Don't Become a Parent?
If Everyone Else Can Do This, Why Can't I?
Grieving for the Pregnancy or Baby that Never Was
Dealing With The World

    These are all feelings/thoughts that I experience regularly.

    If you are dealing with infertility, I highly recommend this book.  They address how to cope with these feelings, but I think what resonated with me the most was just knowing that these thoughts and feelings I'm having are perfectly normal for someone in my position.

    If you are not dealing with infertility, but someone close to you is, and you'd like to understand what they're going through a little better, I recommend this book to you too.  I know that I, for one, am highly unlikely to just want to sit down and talk to anyone about what I am feeling (mostly because it's so hard for me to have any conversation on the topic without completely breaking down), but I do want those who care to know what I'm feeling. That's the whole reason I started blogging about this topic.  Because I want to try to help people understand what those who are coping with infertility are going through.

    I got this book from the library and have had it for almost 4 weeks now (with a renewal).  I was only a few chapters in when I decided I need to own the book. I will be keeping an eye out for it, and will probably try to order it sometime in the near future.
It might also make a good gift for someone dealing with infertility...  but tread lightly there.  You'd probably need to be very close to the person you're gifting it to for it to be appreciated. And, only if they've talked to you about their infertility.

    I've been wanting to write a review/recommendation on this book, but was waiting until the right time (like, after I actually finished reading the book ;)  I almost wrote it over the weekend, but it would have turned into a sob story of negativity - I wasn't in a  very good place.  Instead, my husband and I went on a long walk and by the end of it, I was in a much better place.

    But, since I did just tell you that the reason I started blogging about this topic was so that people would understand what infertility is like (in a small, minute way), I'll share some of the thoughts I was having this weekend. In a less emotional way than if I had shared them when they were happening.  Heh

    I asked God to just take the pain away.  Ultimately, I want it to be resolved by actually having a child, sure.  But at the time, I wanted the pain to just stop.  To just go away, even if that was by taking away my desire to have children.
    I felt like the fact that my husband and I both grew up in large families (I'm not talking 4 siblings large.  Try 7 & 12) was making it harder to accept this, because 1. it was more unexpected, and 2. we knew how wonderful large families can be, so we wanted the same.
    I wished that children were not my passion, because then it wouldn't hurt so much.
    There were a whole lot more thoughts brought on by pain that I can't really put words to now.
    I also saw the one month old baby of a friend of mine for the first time, and as I listened to the little noises that she made,  wondered if I would ever get to hear my own child make those sounds.
    Like I said, I wasn't in a good place.  I wanted to pour out my feelings to my readers so I could maybe get a little sympathy, or encouragement.  But I won't let myself post online when I'm in that state.

But I'm ok today.  For now.
-MNM