What you’re about to read are raw emotions from a night of pain, grief, tears, and heartache. These are some of the emotions that a woman struggling with infertility goes through. These are the thoughts she thinks. This is the grief she knows regularly. How do I know?
It’s a constant grief. It doesn’t matter if it’s your first child, or your 5th child. It’s not something where you just wake up one morning and “get over it”. You have good days and bad days. And when the good days start outweighing the bad, someone suddenly announces a pregnancy, normally one they didn’t even want. Or a distant friend posts her new born baby photos on your Facebook newsfeed.
You get your hopes up when you’re certain you’re expecting. That rare time once or twice a year. You get to a point where you’re finally comfortable to share that hope with close friends and relatives…..three weeks late…five weeks late…and then, the very next day after you’ve told them, you start your period, or worse, have a miscarriage.
No one sees and hears heartache like the walls of your shower. You can ugly cry in there. You can cry and your husband won’t see. Your face will be wet and you can say “it’s just water” or “I got shampoo in my eyes”. He’ll go about his business and never know. You can whisper all of your hurt to those shower walls. All of your anger. All of your frustration. But you only have about 5-8 minutes to get it all out. Wipe that water off your face, girl, it’s time to put your pretty face on.
You fill time. You buy baby things for other people and wish you were buying it for your own new baby. You smile at baby showers and look for the soonest excuse to dart out of there. But it’s not because you’re not happy for the expecting mother. In fact, you’re so over joyed that you could burst. And that is exactly when the grief comes. And you know it’s coming. You’ll either block it out and lie to yourself, “I really don’t want kids/more kids”, or you’ll feel tears welling up while Aunt May is talking about how she used to use cloth diapers back in her day and how the new mother-to-be should be using cloth diapers, and all you can think of is how you want to use cloth diapers and wipe poo off of a baby’s butt….
And then your mouth starts curving, fighting back leaky eyes. You say excuse me, or try to laugh it off. But the reality is that when you sit back in your car, and you start driving home, you can barely see through the liquid that fills your eyes and streams down your face.
But it gets easier.
I promise it does.
After a few years, you learn to cope with it. You have less episodes of heartache. You come to terms with everything. It doesn’t mean you won’t cry about it every now and then. It doesn’t mean that sweet baby in church won’t smile at you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom again because “the Holy Spirit” just had His grasp on you!
But it does mean, that if you allow the sweet spirit of God to seep slowly into the cracks that are in your hardened heart, that in those moments you will find great joy. A joy unspeakable. A joy that, if not…if it doesn’t happen…then God is still good, and righteous, and holy, and to be praised. You find peace that surpasses all understanding.
You’ll still cry in the shower.
You’ll still have hard nights…the ones where you let yourself get hopeful when you know you shouldn’t have.
But they get easier if you let them.
It is only by the grace and mercy of God. Because brokenness can be so beautiful, if grace is the one singing the melody.
You’ll laugh again. You’ll smile again. And you’ll mean it.
Your friend will get pregnant, and you’ll be over joyed. You’ll have a new niece or nephew that you’ll get to spoil. And while it’s not the same—new life, no matter who’s life it is, is to be welcomed and celebrated with love and beauty, not heartache and despair.
And more than anything, you’ll love yourself again. You’ll love yourself when you’re ugly crying in the shower. You’ll love yourself when you are washing the dishes and it hits you out of no where. You’ll love yourself when the nights are long and you lie awake wondering, “if”…”when”…
And if it doesn’t happen, you’ll be ok. Because God has great plans for you, and His plans are always better and greater in the grand scheme of life. And if it does happen, then my goodness, what character and amazing love you’ve grown in. What a fabulous testimony He is using for His goodness and mercy to appear to those around you!
And one day, I pray, it will all make sense. The struggle. The heartache. The pain. The grief.…..
Amy K. Fewell is an author, family herbalist, entrepreneur, homesteader, and homemaker. Living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, her and her family live a natural homesteading lifestyle where they promote self-sufficiency and liberty. Amy is the founder of the Homesteaders of America organization and annual events. You can discover more on this website and at homesteadersofamerica.com