Yep, that's right. We've now been unsuccessful at conceiving a child for two years now.
I've come a long, long, long, way personally since those first few months. Heck, that first year was killer. Surgery was supposed to make it happen. Medication was supposed to make it happen. Procedures were supposed to make it happen. God is the only one who can actually make it happen.
Though we've not given up trying to conceive a biological child we are also not pursuing anything medically to help us do so. We are good where we are, and if God blesses us with a biological child then we will be thrilled. But I'm done obsessing over it.
A few months back I began this post and wanted to share it now.
It's been on my heart lately to write this, but I hadn't been able to find the words (or time) to get out what I want to say.
Before I came out about our struggle to conceive a child my life was all about keeping up the appearance of "having it all together." I always responded to the dreaded "when are you having kids?" question with a non-committal when-the-time-is-right type answer. It was all about appearing to be happy while inside I was constantly falling apart.
I realized the other day while walking the mall pushing my double stroller with my two foster girls that I appeared to others to be in a far different situation than I really am. I also realized that I continued to look at pregnant women and families with young children the way I had since our infertility journey started--with jealousy and resentment. As I processed those feelings I wondered how many young, infertile, women saw me with my babies and had those same feelings of jealousy and resentment. I appear to have two babies very close in age. I appear to have everything I ever wanted. I appear to others who don't know my story as a girl with a dream family.
As I thought of all that I reminded myself that just as strangers don't know my story, I don't know theirs. How many of the women I stared at in jealousy at the mall also struggled with infertility before having their babies? How many of these families are struggling daily to keep their lives together? I don't know the circumstances of these individuals just like they don't know mine.
I say all this to help remind myself when I am feeling low that everyone has a story. Everyone has good times and bad times. Just because someone appears to have it all together doesn't mean they do, they might be falling apart inside. As friends I hope we can recognize signs in each other and start asking the uncomfortable questions and start living in real, deep, community with each other.
They say appearances can be deceiving, right? Don't be fooled by the external things you can see in others, we all need a little love and a whole lot of Jesus.
I've come a long, long, long, way personally since those first few months. Heck, that first year was killer. Surgery was supposed to make it happen. Medication was supposed to make it happen. Procedures were supposed to make it happen. God is the only one who can actually make it happen.
Though we've not given up trying to conceive a biological child we are also not pursuing anything medically to help us do so. We are good where we are, and if God blesses us with a biological child then we will be thrilled. But I'm done obsessing over it.
A few months back I began this post and wanted to share it now.
It's been on my heart lately to write this, but I hadn't been able to find the words (or time) to get out what I want to say.
Before I came out about our struggle to conceive a child my life was all about keeping up the appearance of "having it all together." I always responded to the dreaded "when are you having kids?" question with a non-committal when-the-time-is-right type answer. It was all about appearing to be happy while inside I was constantly falling apart.
I realized the other day while walking the mall pushing my double stroller with my two foster girls that I appeared to others to be in a far different situation than I really am. I also realized that I continued to look at pregnant women and families with young children the way I had since our infertility journey started--with jealousy and resentment. As I processed those feelings I wondered how many young, infertile, women saw me with my babies and had those same feelings of jealousy and resentment. I appear to have two babies very close in age. I appear to have everything I ever wanted. I appear to others who don't know my story as a girl with a dream family.
As I thought of all that I reminded myself that just as strangers don't know my story, I don't know theirs. How many of the women I stared at in jealousy at the mall also struggled with infertility before having their babies? How many of these families are struggling daily to keep their lives together? I don't know the circumstances of these individuals just like they don't know mine.
I say all this to help remind myself when I am feeling low that everyone has a story. Everyone has good times and bad times. Just because someone appears to have it all together doesn't mean they do, they might be falling apart inside. As friends I hope we can recognize signs in each other and start asking the uncomfortable questions and start living in real, deep, community with each other.
They say appearances can be deceiving, right? Don't be fooled by the external things you can see in others, we all need a little love and a whole lot of Jesus.
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