For the past year we have been suffering with infertility. I briefly shared that in a recent post, but in the last months we got some answers that were tough to hear. After ultra sounds, blood work, and pelvic exams my doctor told me it looked like I have endometriosis. There is a surgery that is needed to be done to clinically diagnose you with endometriosis, but it is a very risky surgery if you have cysts. Basically if the ultrasound doesn’t show a cyst it doesn’t mean it’s not there, and the doctor doing the surgery can run into the cyst blind and with that can cause irreversible complications. We decided to not to the surgery. While it was tough to decide to give this to God instead of doing the risky procedure it felt right. I was just coming to terms with the endometriosis when I went to the doctor last week, and she informed me that after looking at my records and really studying them she now believes I also have PCOS (Polycystic ovary syndrome). I have all the characteristics of it, and while in my heart I think I already knew, the news was like taking a bullet.
Infertility is a lonely suffrage. Every day questions and comments become poison to our hearts, and cause silent suffering that can cause more hurt and damage.
“Do you plan on having kids?”
“You’re late, it must be all the kids you have to get ready.”
“Oh just wait till you have kids, you’ll miss your alone time.”
“Just stop trying, it’ll happen when you stop trying.”
“You’re just worrying too much.”
I admit that the last couple of months have been filled with more tears than joy, more heartache than not, but there’s also been hope, comfort, and peace. In the quite moments I feel God and his steadfast love. I find hope in the fact that he has promised me that He will work everything in my life for my good.
I know that in the mist of my heartache there is living hope that He will provide. That I can grow close to him in my brokenness. How else am I suppose to be able to know his true faithfulness and the joy of his miracles if I don’t go through a storm that feels never ending? It’s in those storms that he pulls me close and whispers His promises to me.
Through the tears, the anger, and the confusion I’m learning to give it all to Him. There have been so many nights filled with me crying out in desperation and feeling like He isn’t hearing me, but He is. He is drawing me closer to him in this experience My pain is drawing out slowly and excruciating droplets of faith that continues to grow. In my weakness comes a dependance on him that He has been asking for for years. He’s teaching me to be obedient in prayer. He’s teaching me what true hope feels like, that it isn’t always a big ball of giddiness, but it’s hope non the less. I’m learning that joy and sadness can live in my heart simultaneously. And one day He is going to show me what the miracle of motherhood feels like, and I’m praising him in advance through my tears and heartache because I know that miracle is real and waiting.
I don’t know what you’re going through today sweet friend, but take hold on knowing this isn’t the end of your story, and the creator of our stories is working in the quiet places. When it seems like He is silent and your miracle will never arrive, know that He is working behind the scenes. In the storm He is the quite steadiness. Take hold in that and know that He is with you, always.
If you are suffering with infertility please don’t hesitate to leave me a comment or email me. I want to pray with and for you. Infertility is a isolated suffering, and I want you to know that I understand. If you are in any season of waiting hold on to your faith. Let’s lift one another up in prayer. One day in the future we will be looking back on this heartache thanking God for the miracles he provided after our season of waiting.