Dear Friend: Today You Took a Big Step

This letter was written in response by a dear friend. To read the original letter “Dear Friend: A Letter About Infertility” click here.

Dear Friend,

Today you took a big step. An extremely brave step.  You told me you were pregnant.  It was so obvious that you wanted to hide it and didn’t want to hide it all at the same time.  You so desperately wanted everything to be ok.

The truth is this is amazing news!  I’m so happy for you.  You have been given this gift of life.  Something you can cherish, literally, for the rest of your life.  Someone to love, to hold, to raise, and guide.  You are now raising the next little saint for Christ. What an honor!  Do not forsake the importance of the task God has placed in front of you. 

You were concerned because God has not called me to that mission field yet.  He has not found it to be my time.  There is still joy in the other missions of my life.  Is there hurt and sadness along this path that I have not chosen? Absolutely! Sometimes it hurts so much I’m paralyzed.  But I remind myself God never promises his calling to be easy or fun.  In fact, more often than not, what we want and what God wants do not line up.  

This infertility path has been harder than I thought it would be.Although, I say that and can also admit it is easier than I thought it would be. I have such dark moments but continue to have joyful days.

“Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Nehemiah 8:10

I KNOW that God has not forsaken me in this hurt.  He is right here with me.  I find myself reading His Word more desperately than ever.  I’m looking for Him.  I’m yearning for His comfort. 

The reality of infertility hits everywhere it counts.  I feel like less of a woman.  My husband feels like less of a man.  We hold onto each other more now than ever.  This only continues to strengthen our bond and desire for each other.  

The negatives:

Every month I go to the store.  I buy a pack of tampons, a pack of pregnancy tests, some chocolate, and wine.  (For some reason chocolate and wine are both equally good for sadness and celebration.)

Every month I open my box of tampons reluctantly.  I experience physical period pains.  My pain is no longer just an emotional battle.  It is now a physical battle.  One that can hurt so bad I can’t sleep.  I lay in bed praying the only prayer that comes:  “Abba, Father, I need you…” (Mark 14)

Every month I have blood drawn just to “make sure” I’m actually ovulating.  I take special pills that “encourage” the ovaries to release extra eggs.  I had an intrauterine ultrasound done because we can’t seem to get a baby to grow in there. It was empty and dark inside of the picture.  There wasn’t anything to be looking for. (We are scheduled for another empty ultrasound already.)  I underwent the hysterosalpingogram (HSG) procedure just to check the fallopian tubes. The doctor uses words like “IVF”, “infertility”, “percentages”, “IUI”, and so many more.  My husband is told that there’s really no hope for increasing male infertility.  

We are now the 1 out of 4. 

My feelings cannot be put down on paper.  Nobody else has these feelings, because nobody has my life.  Every single person struggles differently.  

My comfort comes from the Lord. (Psalm 121)  I will be a mother.  It will be in God’s perfect time.  In the meantime, I can bring my best self to represent God and His kingdom to your celebration.  I mean that. I do.  I do not feel sorry for myself.  I find myself feeling sorry for the couples who struggle and cannot grow through it. I feel sorry for the couples who have kids and can’t love each other through it.  

I am HONORED that God believes in me.  He chose this battle for ME.  He believes in ME.  He believes in MY MARRIAGE.  I write these as reminders, but it is more than true in my heart and mind.  

I will celebrate your pregnancy.  I will cry happy tears with you and for you.  I will have sad tears for me once in a while, but those are not your burden.  God did not choose those tears for you. 

You are my friend.  My confidant.  One of my biggest fans.  

I love you, my beautiful, pregnant, friend.