I think that if something truly wonderful happens in your life...maybe even a miracle...you can't truly appreciate the magnificent and life changing affects of the miracle unless or until you are able to look back at your life and soak in exactly what life was like before the miracle took hold. So, look back and revisit the pain and then allow your heart to be filled with gratitude, deep appreciation and the understanding that can come from struggle.
This is me, looking back...
For many, many years, I did not really care for Mother's Day. For many years, Mother's Day simply reminded me of what I was not... A Mother.
How I felt on Mother's Day was often dependent upon how I was feeling about infertility at that moment in time. On some Mother's Days I would feel numb or indifferent. On other Mother's Days I would feel fairly content. And, sometimes, the sadness and emptiness would bring me to tears.
Jason and I struggled with infertility for approximately 10 years before Emma came into our lives. For many years, we endured surgeries, extended periods of bed rest, a myriad of tests, infertility treatments, uncertainty, pain, sadness, emptiness, confusion, frustration and even fear. And, there was an eventual emergency hysterectomy in 2004...the day after Thanksgiving...devastating.
With that said, I do want to say that I did not live for ten years in a constant state of infertility crisis. I was able to come to a point, with God's help, of tenuous acceptance of the fact that I might not ever have a child (additional infertility treatments and adoption were out of our reach financially) and I was able to continue to live my life in general contentment while loving and trusting God. Acceptance further strengthened my relationship with God and helped me to weather a few pretty difficult storms. My motto became...if the Lord allows me to have a child, I will serve Him...and, if He does not allow a child in my life, I will serve Him still.
I was then challenged a bit when I was faced with a hysterectomy. I thought that I had dealt fully with the fact that I might never have a biological child...however, what I figured out was that I HAD dealt with the probability of never having a biological child...HOWEVER, I STILL had the thought in the back of my mind that POSSIBLY by a miracle of God, I would at some point become pregnant...without additional treatments or any additional sort of medical intervention. So, when I was faced with the fact that the only chance that I had left of conceiving was about to be taken away by a hysterectomy, I was faced with yet another wave of sadness and grief. *sigh*
Yes, it was a tough ten years. And, Mother's Days were often difficult...some of them more difficult than others. It was tough to go to church on Mother's Day Sunday when the mothers were called to the front for a special prayer or for carnations. It was tough. It was tough to attend Mother's Day events without a child. It was tough at times to see all of the joy around me when I was experiencing sadness.
I have a cousin who also struggled with infertility for many years. She eventually did become a mother. Long before Jason and I began our adoption process, my cousin and I were chatting about infertility after her first child had come into her life. She said that having a child in her life lessened the pain and the sadness that she felt while she was experiencing infertility and she also said that having a child did fill the hole in her life that was empty for so long. But, she also said that having a child did not completely eradicate all of the pain and the sadness that was caused by infertility...the memories were still there. At the time that she told me this, I frankly could not fully understand what she was talking about. But, I now understand what she was trying to say. Now that Emma is home, I do not think of infertility everyday. I do not even think about it every two or three days. But, I DO still think about it...the pain, the heartache...for me, it hasn't totally left...and, I'm not sure if it ever will fully...and, in some ways, I hope that it doesn't completely leave me... From now on, while attending Mother's Day church services, I will be looking around the sanctuary, wondering how many women are suffering pain in their hearts...I will be wondering how many of them are experiencing a deep sadness. If I had the pain of infertility completely taken from me, maybe I would not even think to wonder about that at all...or to pray.
If you are reading my blog, and if you are struggling with infertility or if you have struggled with it, I just want you to know that I understand your pain...I understand the struggle. My pain may be different from your pain...but, pain is pain. I understand the confusion, I understand the sadness. I get it. And, having a child in my life, one of my greatest joys, has not fully erased the memory of the heartache that I experienced before her miraculous arrival. And, as I struggle to think of myself as "one of them" (someone with a child/kids)...please know that I also see myself as "one of you" (one who has struggled with infertility) because we have shared many of the same struggles and challenges. So, on this Mother's Day, please know that I am thinking of you. I get it. I understand. I do.
God bless, Tera
