I’ve got 3 of my closest friends going through some incredibly hard and painful situations right now. They are weighing so much on my heart and I wish I could take all the pain, fear, and uncertainty away.
But while I’ve been processing these situations, one recurring thing I want to share with them all keeps coming back to me.
Over the last nearly 3 years I have seen some of my deepest, darkest days, as well as some of my brightest, most joyful days. Infertility is something you can’t fully understand until you’ve been there. The pain, the fear, the uncertainty – it’s so real and so raw.
A friend of mine just asked on an infertility board we’re both on a while back to those still trying to conceive their first, “Have any of you started to picture your life without ever having children?” I remember those days. That question brought me to the darkest places my heart has ever been. I couldn’t picture it. It wasn’t me. Everything about everything I had ever done was to the end of having my own children. Of being a mom. A life without kids was not a life I wanted to live. I felt absolutely forgotten, ignored, hopeless, hurt, and angry. Why didn’t God get it? Why did he put this unquenchably strong desire in my heart, only to keep the prize at arms length? It wasn’t fair.
But what I know on this side of it is if I hadn’t experienced the depth of the pain, the darkness of those days – I could never experience the fullness of the joy and light I’m experiencing now. God knew it’s what my heart needed. It was pain with a purpose. A purpose I couldn’t see, try as I did.
I think it’s ok to feel that anger, let yourself experience that pain. It will stretch your heart to new limits – in the capacity for pain so deep you’ve never experienced anything like it, but also in the capacity for joy.
I wish I could show you all the big picture. I wish I could say exactly how that joy is coming. And when it’s coming. All I know is that it is. And it’s going to be so much more beautiful than you can even imagine.