Long and Lonely Road

Infertility is a very lonely road. Don't get me wrong, I have an amazing husband, incredible family and network of friends and a gracious God who are all walking alongside me, but when I get the call or text or excited announcement that another woman's dreams are coming true, it's just me feeling all the feels. The initial joy and anger, the ensuing shame and hopelessness, the lingering doubt in the midst of true happiness for my friends and relatives and coworkers, that's all me. When friends stop updating me on their kids and begin to drift because they don't want it to be awkward or aren't in the same place in life anymore, it's just me trying to reassure them I want to know and get pictures, but sometimes the grief is too overwhelming. When I smile and nod at conversations about which cloth diaper to use or the latest craziest blowout someone's kid had or how mom brain is a real thing, it's just me. No eyes to catch and roll together. No pause at the other end of the phone while I collect myself to try and put into words the conflicting emotions that come with kid updates. It's a lonely journey and it's hard. I know you want to "share the load" (ten points to whomever gets that book reference), but I think it's a little like I feel looking in the window of motherhood. I can love my nephew and niece and little ones in my life fiercely, but it's just not the same as being a mom myself. But just because it's a lonely journey doesn't mean I am doing it alone. And that makes all the difference. 

Because it's a mushy journey for all of us, here are some tips and things not to do/say to someone with a barren womb as well as some things I've found make my journey less alone-ly along the way. And yes, all have been said to me from people with the best of intentions. So let's start with the not-so-great:

1. Just relax, you'll get pregnant if you're not thinking about it!" Sometimes the mechanics just don't work and no amount of relaxing will work. Also, when was the last time that someone told you to relax and you did. Just saying.

2. "It's not God's timing" or "maybe you just weren't supposed to be parents" Without getting into the theology behind the aforementioned statements, who are you or I to assume we know how God will or won't work? Was that man supposed to kill people in the train station in Paris? Are people supposed to die from cancer? Is she supposed to live her life without the use of her legs? We live in a fallen world in which sin has dominion. And sometimes that comes in the form of broken, barren bodies. But it does not mean it is supposed to be that way.

3. "You can always adopt" see my previous blog for my thoughts on adoption. But to highlight, adoption can't be, nor ever will be, the second best option to getting pregnant myself. It is a completely different and equally valid form of parenthood with its own journey that sometimes does follow infertility, but, for me, can never be because of infertility.

4. "Keep praying and trying; you'll eventually get pregnant" Again, none of us are God. We don't know if it will work. And if it doesn't, the false hope and faith we put in worldly promises negates the one in whom we place our ultimate hope.

5. My favorite, said by unknowing, kind souls "you are so great with my/those kids, you guys should have some of your own! You've been married long enough now..." So many things that make me cringe and grieve and feel a little bit sorry. I desperately do want kids, but again, none of the things you mentioned should be criteria for growing our own family. Which leads to the last one for now.

     6.  Assuming I don't want to talk about your kids. Or that I do. Or that I want to talk about this journey. Or that I don't. Or just assuming things in general.  I'm pretty sure this is just a good life lesson, but ask! Some days I love hearing about the little details. Some days it just reminds me of what I'm missing. But, as the saying goes, When you assume, you make an a..., well, u know...

     Instead, here are some wonderful things to do/say/be with someone who is dealing with infertility! Again, most of these apply to interactions in general, so life lessons to all.

    1. Listen. Don't offer solutions or reasons why. Offer your presence. Sometimes it's listening to rant of how life is unfair. Sometimes it's being a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes it's distraction from the upcoming doctor visit. Sometimes it's continuing on like nothing is different.

2. Continue interacting just like you did before you knew we/they were dealing with infertility. I still like to read books.  I still enjoy Big Bang Theory. People at my job still frustrate me. Yes, this is a piece of life that I wish was going different, but it did not define me prior to your knowledge of it and it does not define me now.

3. Pray for strength and patience and peace. It's a long and lonely journey. Some days are worse than others. I may not have control of the situation, but I trust in a God who works all things out for our good--even if that means long times of waiting.

4. Support whatever decision we/they make about treatments. If it's no medical intervention, wonderful. If it's adoption, wonderful. If it's IVF, wonderful. If it's surrogacy, wonderful. If it's to not have kids at all, wonderful. I don't necessarily agree with all the choices you make about other things in your life, and we are still friends, so please respect and support whatever decision we/they make about how and if we/they grow our/their family. 

I hope you don't feel like I'm singling you out because of something said or done in the past. I didn't even know how I felt about half of this until I was going through it. I am so grateful for this continual opportunity to gift each other with the grace and love that God so lavishly gifts to us. Thank you for making this journey one we don't walk alone.