They say if you don’t succeed the first time you should try again, and that you only ever truly fail if you stop trying. And honestly I should be having fun trying, but it has become more of a chore than anything. You probably want me to back up and tell you what I’m really trying to say. I made a post back in May about why I’m struggling to conceive. Once I told my friends and family they were all incredibly sympathetic and assured me now that we knew the trouble/was on the medicine that was supposed to fix it we’d have a little miracle on the way in no time. Even the doctor said she’d expect a call from me by the end of the month saying the medicine worked (or to come back in three months).
For a minute I thought that was true. All the signs pointed to being pregnant, but they were all wrong. It’s been a little over two months now and still nothing. People all around me are finding out they are pregnant while I’m just twiddling my thumbs in line. Two or three times in the last couple of weeks people have asked me either when I’m due (ouch), or if I’m pregnant (because I’m a little nauseous but still testing negative), and every time I inwardly flinch because they don’t get how much it sucks.
I get so infuriated by it sometimes. Women all around me get pregnant on accident; women who don’t even want the baby and see it as a nuisance. Or they think drinking and drugs are totally okay to still do. So not only do I resent the hell out of these women for their thoughtlessness and irresponsibility, but I also resent the medicine that is supposed to make me better. Then because the medicine isn’t helping I feel defeated and tired so when it is time to lay down the last thing I want to do is get my hopes up by trying anymore.
I know I’m supposed to trust in the Lord’s timing, but if there is one virtue I am vastly lacking in it is patience. In fact I took up knitting when I was a teenager to try and help teach myself patience. It was fun until I got bored.
This post has been on my heart for a week now, but I’ve struggled to put the right words together. The betrayal of my body hasn’t broken me, but it has wounded me. I know God has plans larger than I could possibly know, so I’m going to wait in His perfect timing and hope for the best. Until then feel free to share your thoughts or experiences!
Free to Keep Breathing 