A Referral
I got a referral today. An, "I don't know how to handle you or this situation anymore so you're going to need to talk to someone with more authority" referral. A shame-inducing, gut-wrenching, how-am-I-going-to-explain-this-to-my-mom referral. And the worst part about it is that I didn't do anything wrong.
For those of you that have been walking alongside us in this journey with infertility, today was a doozy. For those who haven't, today was a doozy. (See my previous blog for more history.) Today my lady doc told me that she had done pretty much all she could and wrote the aforementioned referral to the infertility specialist. For some reason, this was one of the most difficult, expected, non-eventful doctor's appointments I've had to date. Deep down, I knew this day would come. Logically, there's only so much my lady doc can do so it's not like this was any surprise, but I now have a piece of paper confirming my shortcoming. Concrete evidence that my body isn't working like God created. That in order for some of our deepest desires to happen, natural methods won't work. And it sucks.
This whole journey kind of feels like when your first crush goes for the other girl. The one you've been trying out his last name to see how it goes with your first and middle name and putting your joint initials in hearts on your trapper keeper. You are a little embarrassed, a little insulted, a little resentful, a little nonchalant and a lot of trying to figure out how much to talk about it with your best friend without being too desperate or too detached because you still like him. Weirdly similar to my place in our journey 2 1/2 years in. "Should I bring it up even though it's been my prayer request for like the past 8 months?" "How do I respond to the off-hand comments about how awesome it must be to be living the DINK life (Dual Income, No Kids)?" "Where is the line between bearing one another's burdens and wallowing in my emotions?" "How do I explain the duality of being so ecstatic for her new bundle of joy while experiencing the deep grief of loss for me?"
Thanks be to our God that teaches us how to extend grace to each other and ourselves. There are days with lots of tears. And there are days with abundant laughter and joy. And there are days where the sea of my heart is as still as glass and I hold my breath so as not to break it. But it is good. Being human and leaning in (Alec will hate that I used that term) to the depth of our human emotions is so good. It's how we were created and how the God of the universe chose to reveal himself to us. Is it easy? Not always. Is it safe? Not always. But oh it is so good.
Please continue to walk with us in this season that may be a little uncomfortable, a little unrelateable, a little mustard seed-y and filled with a lot of grace.
For those of you that have been walking alongside us in this journey with infertility, today was a doozy. For those who haven't, today was a doozy. (See my previous blog for more history.) Today my lady doc told me that she had done pretty much all she could and wrote the aforementioned referral to the infertility specialist. For some reason, this was one of the most difficult, expected, non-eventful doctor's appointments I've had to date. Deep down, I knew this day would come. Logically, there's only so much my lady doc can do so it's not like this was any surprise, but I now have a piece of paper confirming my shortcoming. Concrete evidence that my body isn't working like God created. That in order for some of our deepest desires to happen, natural methods won't work. And it sucks.
This whole journey kind of feels like when your first crush goes for the other girl. The one you've been trying out his last name to see how it goes with your first and middle name and putting your joint initials in hearts on your trapper keeper. You are a little embarrassed, a little insulted, a little resentful, a little nonchalant and a lot of trying to figure out how much to talk about it with your best friend without being too desperate or too detached because you still like him. Weirdly similar to my place in our journey 2 1/2 years in. "Should I bring it up even though it's been my prayer request for like the past 8 months?" "How do I respond to the off-hand comments about how awesome it must be to be living the DINK life (Dual Income, No Kids)?" "Where is the line between bearing one another's burdens and wallowing in my emotions?" "How do I explain the duality of being so ecstatic for her new bundle of joy while experiencing the deep grief of loss for me?"
Thanks be to our God that teaches us how to extend grace to each other and ourselves. There are days with lots of tears. And there are days with abundant laughter and joy. And there are days where the sea of my heart is as still as glass and I hold my breath so as not to break it. But it is good. Being human and leaning in (Alec will hate that I used that term) to the depth of our human emotions is so good. It's how we were created and how the God of the universe chose to reveal himself to us. Is it easy? Not always. Is it safe? Not always. But oh it is so good.
Please continue to walk with us in this season that may be a little uncomfortable, a little unrelateable, a little mustard seed-y and filled with a lot of grace.
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