On Mother's Day...

I didn't feel that incredible sense of sadness like I normally do.

I didn't think very much about how many years I have spent waiting for a child.

Something that weighs so heavily on my mind and heart almost every other day of the year did not upset me terribly on Mother's Day, of all days.

We were not able to spend the day with either of our moms this year. We had seen my in-laws recently, and they had other weekend travel plans. We'll see my mom next week during our vacation together. It was okay that we couldn't be together with them today.

What in the world did we do, then? Chuck and I stayed overnight at his sister's house to celebrate her birthday (which is tomorrow). We had a nice dinner out, stayed up late visiting, slept in, played games together, and did some shopping. We had fun! We were busy, and I really wasn't sad all day.

Amazingly, it was Mother's Day and I didn't cry...

Until we got home and I found a bouquet of flowers left at my front door by a beautiful friend from church. She had filled a little apple juice bottle with water and put the flowers in it so they would keep until we got home. It was adorable and so sweet. Okay, so I had to wipe away a few tears then.

After having been away from my computer all day, I then checked my email. There I found the sweetest notes of love and encouragement from two of my blog pals. One took a moment away from her own special day with her daughter to write a note to me. You see, she also knows loss. The other knows what it is like to yearn for a baby for years and years. She knows what this wait feels like. Despite their own struggles, these precious friends sent words that really spoke to my heart and reminded me that I, too, am a mother. I had to wipe away a few more tears.

There was another email from a dear friend of mine. I've known her since elementary school. She is a beautiful, single woman in her thirties, who understands how isolating a holiday like Mother's Day can be for me. Like she shared with me today, she is all too familiar with those feelings when Valentine's Day comes around. What a difficult day that is for so many singles who would love to be a couple. She reminded me that others can relate to what I feel, even when their situation is different.

I found yet another email from a friend I haven't seen in about 13 years. We worked as counselors at a summer camp together all those years ago. We recently got back in touch through Facebook, and she knows my general situation. She has beautiful children of her own. I'm so humbled that she would remember me. I was so touched that she would write, because she realized it might be a hard day. My tears continued.

Heaven only knows how many wonderful friends and relatives have remembered us today, and how many have mentioned our names in their prayers on Mother's Day. I know there are others who have shown their support in the days leading up to today. Another precious friend has been praying for me all week even while she is missing her mother so badly this time of year. I'm afraid of leaving someone out, but each gesture meant so much to me no matter how small it might have seemed to the giver.

I hadn't cried a single tear today until I was able to see how much people cared. I had to give in to a few tears, but they were the happy kind. I couldn't hold them in any longer!

Although I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about my own infertility and loss today, I did think about all of my special friends. I do know that Mother's Day is a hard day for a lot of people for many reasons. Many of you mourn your children or your mothers. Some of you grieve for the children you wish you could conceive. Some understand what it's like to wait for something you deeply desire (and what it's like to have a holiday that reminds you of it). And some simply care about the hurts of others around them and aren't afraid to reach out. Whether you are mothers or not, I'm grateful for the amazing women that you are!

If you thought of us or prayed for us today, I thank you. And I really didn't mind the tears.

Misfit

Do you have moments when you feel like you just don't fit in anywhere? I certainly do, and it seems to get worse the longer I live with infertility. I used to really enjoy social functions of all kinds. Of course I still do enjoy them occasionally, but most times the anticipation is almost more than I can handle. I'm afraid to put myself out there for fear that it will end up being awkward. I feel so much safer at home and usually I'd rather just stay in. It's true that a lot of times I talk myself into going and when it's all over I'm truly glad I went. But the fact is that those times have become few and far between.

The problem is that there is no real place where I feel I belong, socially I mean. I'm too old to be with the college kids - next year will be 10 years since I graduated from college. Although I identify with singles in many ways and value my single friends, I'm sure they don't always want to hang out with this old married couple. The young marrieds with small children have quite a bit on their plates, not to mention those closer to my age who have school-age kids! It seems like I have less and less in common with my peers with each passing year. Of course I have dear friends from all of these walks of life and of all different ages. Some of my dearest friends are closer to my parents' age and have kids who are grown. I think that having many different kinds of friends is great, but still I feel more and more isolated lately - like I'm stuck in a place where I don't belong and can't move forward.

The other day in a moment of frustration I told my husband that I felt like I should be shipped off someplace where broken things go. Immediately I thought of the Island of Misfit Toys from the classic Rudolph cartoon. The funny thing is that I can't tell you the last time I watched that movie. It's been at least a decade but I remembered it pretty clearly: the jack-in-the-box named Charlie, the spotted elephant, and the little doll. Remember all those toys that were rejects? I watched a video clip from the movie on youtube to remind myself of some of the others who lived on the island. I'd forgotten about the train who had square wheels. I hadn't remembered the bird who could swim but couldn't fly or the boat who couldn't stay afloat.

Maybe it sounds silly but I can relate to those misfit toys. I desperately want to be something I am not. I want my body to work the way it should. I am a mother who has no children. I feel like I don't quite fit.

This isn't a pity party. You have to understand something about me. One of my biggest pet peeves in life is when something doesn't work right. I get so frustrated when I can't get something to serve its intended purpose. You can imagine how difficult it is for me to live with a body that doesn't work the way I think it should! It is incredibly annoying to me (not to mention heartbreaking) that I have such a hard time with pregnancy and there is nothing easy I can do to fix that. No, nobody ever promised me that things would be easy to fix or that problems would be easy to solve. I haven't had a life like that anyway, so I would've quickly learned that I'd been misled. Still it feels like it just shouldn't be this hard.

I never want anything I write here to be interpreted as hopeless. Believe it or not, I can see a few positive things about those misfit toys! They were certainly unique, and although they didn't feel like they fit in, they fit in perfectly with each other. There's something to be said for standing apart from the crowd, and it most definitely helps knowing you're not alone. It doesn't always feel good being different, but there may just be someone out there who needs just what you have to offer.

Surprisingly, I found someone who happens to like spotted elephants and doesn't mind birds that swim instead of fly. You know, maybe there are no "misfits" after all.

Am I Blessed?

For three or four years now I've been sending out a letter with my Christmas cards. You know, one of those family updates to let everyone know what's been going on in the last year. I started doing that because of infertility. I knew people were wondering what was going on and I felt like it needed to be addressed. I didn't give everyone a play-by-play of all the trouble we've had, but I made the situation known and thanked our family and friends for their continued prayer and support for us. For the years that followed I continued with the recap letter even though I find it difficult to do. I guess I want people to know that even though we struggle, we have joy in our lives each year as well. It's time for me to write the letter again, and again I'm sad to look back on a year with no new baby.

This has me thinking a lot about something. If there is any topic I have wanted to blog about, that has been rolling around in my head for months and months, it is this one. It is the subject of blessings. What does it mean to be blessed by God? Am I blessed by God? I regularly hear people tell mothers how blessed they are. They walk right up to them and say, "Wow, God has really blessed you," or "You are the most blessed woman." I don't think anyone has ever told me how blessed they think I am! Am I less blessed than a mother? Why do we usually associate blessings with children?

I know I've just thrown a bunch of questions at you! I have been thinking on this and trying to study about it and soak up everything I hear on the topic like a sponge. I've talked it over with friends and family, listened to sermons, read the Bible, prayed about it, and spent hours discussing it with my husband. Today I want to share some things with you that I have learned about blessings. I'm definitely no expert, and I welcome any insights you might have on this as well.

Yesterday at church we had our annual Thanksgiving service and luncheon. During the worship time our music minister called for folks to share how they were thankful. I sat and listened as person after person stood and talked about how God had blessed them with such wonderful parents, families, and children. I have to tell you, it was special and I also thought about how thankful I am for my family. But I couldn't help but feel sad too in a way, for myself and for others in the room who perhaps didn't feel blessed. Maybe there was someone else like me who didn't grow up in a stable home with two godly parents. Maybe someone else had a dad who left them and drank too much. Maybe there was a single or divorced man or woman who felt alone and had a tough year. Maybe there were couples besides us who prayed all year long for a child and were disappointed and heartbroken. While I was sitting there in church I had the overwhelming desire to stand up and speak for those people. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking but I knew I had to do it. I stood and told everyone there that even if they didn't have loving Christian parents or a spouse or a house full of children, that they were also blessed! I told them I was thankful for God's blessings like our salvation through His son Jesus, and hearts that are obedient to Him. I don't know whether it meant anything to anyone else, but it meant something to me. I didn't get through it without tears, which disappointed me, but I hope the message was clear. Please don't get me wrong, I DO think we must thank God for our parents, spouses, and children and everything in between! I just don't want to lose sight of what our blessings really are.

A few minutes later in that testimony time at church, a young man stood up and said that he was thankful to God for all of the trials in his life. He was thankful for all of the family hardships that he'd been given that have made him the person he is today. This young man is about 20 years old and has known more trials than I could even know. He came from a family of alcoholism, abuse, and neglect and was adopted by a loving couple. They have, I think, 4 biological children and I believe another 8 or 9 adopted and foster children, and this family has been living in tents and mobile homes ever since their home was destroyed by Hurricane Ike two months ago. He didn't say a word about any of that stuff yesterday, only how thankful he was. I was amazed. I'm not normally an "Amen shouter" but I couldn't keep myself from speaking out right then and telling him afterwards how much he had touched my heart.

In the Bible, in Matthew chapter 5, Jesus gives us what we call The Beatitudes. I think it's interesting to note whom He calls blessed:
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those who mourn. (Are you feeling blessed yet? This one stands out to me.)
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.
Blessed are the merciful.
Blessed are the pure in heart.
Blessed are the peacemakers.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness.

The Bible shows us that Jesus used external "blessings" like miracles and healing to open the door for what He really came to do. I believe that our real blessings are internal: those that happen in our hearts. God's greatest miracle is that He saves us and changes our hearts and calls us His own. A good definition of blessed is to be fortunate. We are fortunate to have God's hand of protection upon our lives. If you do have a happy marriage, you are fortunate to have that. If you do have children, you should consider them a blessing and a gift. But the absence of those external things does not mean the absence of God's blessing in your life. Those are not the ultimate blessings!

Through all of this study I've learned something very valuable. I don't want to pursue having children more than I pursue righteousness and obedience to my Lord. I want to seek His kingdom first and let Him take care of the rest.

Even when I don't feel blessed, I know that I am. I'm careful about how I use that word now. I don't want anyone to look at anything I have on the outside and see that as a blessing, but I want only to be seen as blessed if people look at me and see my Savior. I want to tell you, single friends and childless friends and my dear friends who are parents, we are all blessed because we are God's children.

When I write that Christmas letter this year and when I celebrate Thanksgiving this week, I'll be thanking God for my blessings. And perhaps for the first time I will truly understand what that means.

Single? This One's For You.

It seems like out of all of the kinds of people I talk to about my infertility, the ones I most often can relate to are single people. Maybe this sounds funny if you noticed that I'm 31 and have been married for 10 years. If so, you've figured out (even if your math skills are as basic as mine) that I got married at the young age of 21. I was, however, no stranger to being single. I never really dated at all until my freshman year of college, when I met this great guy I ended up marrying.

So, let me explain exactly why I feel I can relate to many of my single friends. Specifically, I mean those single friends who are wishing for a mate and perhaps don't feel like a "spring chicken." Maybe you get those questions from someone you just met, or that high school friend you haven't seen in 15 years, or that well-meaning aunt at a family reunion. You know, "So, are you married yet?" "Are you dating anyone?" And of course they all know just the person for you, right? Just the right easy answer to your dilemma. Ugh, and I shouldn't even mention Valentine's Day.

Let me add here that I don't think that every single person should get married! I also don't believe every married couple must have children. I'm specifically talking about those of us who want to and are ready to move on to that next stage of life. You're beyond college age, you've been to dozens of your friends' weddings (and probably served in about 8 or 9 of them), and you really want to get married.

Or you're like me and you've been married for quite a while and you're more than ready to add some kids to your family. I'm not saying it's exactly the same thing, because obviously it's not. I can't totally relate to a single person who has waited for a very long time to be married. But I know what it's like to wait. And I know what it's like to want to move forward and to feel like it is completely out of your hands to do so. I don't want to tell you all those things you're tired of hearing: that it will happen when you're not expecting it (although it might), or that there's somebody out there waiting for you (which sounds a little stalker-ish).

All I want to tell you is what I've been trying to do, which is to enjoy life in the waiting. I don't want to let it pass by and look back on that time with only regrets. Unfortunately, I spent several years just overcome with regret and anger and sadness. I felt like those were wasted years. Instead, I've started trying to do some of those things I always wanted to do "someday." You know, spontaneous things that will probably be harder (or impossible) to do once I have little ones. Now, when I look back on my years before children, I admit I'll remember the sadness, but that's not all. I'll also rememer all of the awesome memories I made with my family and friends.

Single friends, I love you! I'm sorry for the times I've been insensitive about your situation. I just want you to know that I like you just the way you are, and you are a complete person to me even if you never get married. But if marriage is what you desire, I'll pray that you find your somebody!