NIAW 2017

            This week is National Infertility Awareness Week.  For those who may have missed my post in which I first shared a little piece of our story, you can check out Part 2 of my series titled “A Life Unexpected" by clicking the following link: ALU(P2).

            I am the one in eight. ········

When we first started trying to get pregnant, I often found myself lost in daydreams.  I spent hours looking up and pairing first and middle names, imagining what our child might look like, crocheting baby afghans (one for a boy and one for a girl), and brainstorming ideas for nursery color schemes and pregnancy announcements.  As I imagined what it would be like to see a positive pregnancy test, to witness my husband's reaction to the news, to experience the process of growing a human being inside my body, and everything else that goes along with bringing a life into this world, I could feel a foreshadow of the emotion that would come with it all.  Have you ever thought of something sour (like a Warhead or a lemon) and felt the sensation of the taste overtake your tongue without actually eating anything?  It was sort of like that.  I entertained my hopeful fantasies without restraint for the first few months, though they were dampened briefly by mild disappointment at each new start of a cycle. 

Then, the disappointment began to grow, and the more I allowed myself to dream, the harder the blow came when I realized we had to wait yet another month.  Gradually, I finished my afghans, I stopped looking at Pinterest ideas, and I put my baby name list away.  Still, there were some months when I got my hopes up because of unusual signs and allowed the dreaming to flicker again.  Once, I randomly got sick in the middle of the night.  Another month, I had horrible acid reflux for the first time ever. There are so many possible early pregnancy symptoms (most of which resemble PMS) that I could almost always find at least one that was true for me in any given month.  Still, I kept finding myself staring through blurry eyes at a little strip with only one line. 

Blood Draw #4

Finally, we decided it was time to see a doctor.  My husband’s test came back normal.  My first tests included blood work to check for thyroid disease and diabetes.  I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and was started on medication.  Again, I felt a new wave of hope.  At least we had some sort of possible answer.  Six long months passed with rapidly waning optimism, and another blood test revealed that my thyroid was still out of whack.  The doctor increased my dosage, and another two months have passed.  Ironically, I have an appointment with my doctor this week to ask a few questions and to talk about what the next steps might be.  All in all, we have been waiting for about twenty-seven months now.      

During the wait, I have found myself jerked around by excitement, hope, anticipation, doubt, discouragement, disappointment, anger, fear, jealousy, confusion, frustration, and numbness.  I've stonewalled, rested in, reasoned with, and pleaded with God.  I've been crushed by certain questions and comments, but I've also been encouraged by loved ones in various ways, both those who understand what we’re going through and those who don't.  Each day is different.  I try to focus on enjoying the life God has given me right now.  I must choose to be thankful that I have the time and freedom to help take care of children who are not my own.  I must choose to enjoy the extra time I have to invest in and enjoy my marriage.  I must choose to trust God and to follow His will for me today.  Still, the longing never entirely leaves my heart.  The dream may be polluted with uncertainty and sorrow, but it is not dead.

            Thank you to all those who are walking this road with us.  Thank you for listening ears, for your generous spirits, and for your genuinely good intentions.  Thanks to those who have been understanding even when you don’t fully understand.  Thanks to those at all different mile markers of this same road who have provided so much support and encouragement.  Thanks to those who have allowed me the privilege of being a part of your children’s lives.  I don’t know what the remainder of our family-building journey looks like, but I am grateful to have such a supportive community of family and friends and for a God who will not abandon me to hopelessness and despair.    

            To close, I wrote a villanelle to more succinctly express what I just shared in recognition of National Infertility Awareness Week:

Reverie of Light

Desire of my heart, tainted reverie of light

For you, I continue to wait 

I must ward off the night

I picture your eyes, your hair, your height 

I hear echoes of laughter, see what beauty you’d create

Desire of my heart, tainted reverie of light

How I ache to hold you tight

My spirit yearns with an ardor so great

I must ward off the night

I’ve pondered your name, if it will be just right

To capture your temper and each quirky trait

Desire of my heart, tainted reverie of light

Your afghans I made lie hidden from sight

Offering no warmth to my fragile state

 I must ward off the night

Oh how my mind must not succumb to this plight

Taunted by apparitions of an uncertain fate

Desire of my heart, tainted reverie of light

Please Lord, ward off the night