Dear Infertility (part 8)

Dear Infertility,

I think about you. Every damn day. Sometimes you’re just a whisper. Other times, you seem to have a megaphone. I’ve been fooled into thinking that you’ll go away and just when I get a reprieve from you, boom. There you are.

I don’t know why I can’t shake you; why the trauma of my surgery haunts. It’s like you’re sewn into my bones. Every fiber consists of you. Until I shuffle off this mortal coil, I suspect it will always be this way.

Like a spider at night, you’ve weaved a web I cannot escape from, even when I try. Why do you insist on holding me captive? Is it the way you came into my life? Or, could it be the way you’ve changed it? 

I’m a parent. You know this. Still, you persist. You love reminding me of yourself. A bit egotistical, don’t you think? Oh, you really enjoy making me wonder what could’ve and should’ve been. It’s your thing, isn’t it?

Dear Infertility,

Stop. I know I’ve begged this of you for far too many years. You won’t listen. It’s because you’re trauma – T.R.A.U.M.A. Despite therapy, prayer, marriage, adoption and many other things, you remain a constant shadow of pain from years ago.

I find myself wondering about you and it makes me feel guilty, although, I haven’t committed a crime. Guilty for pondering the things I do. Guilty for wishing things would’ve been different. I’m convicted of that.

Dear Infertility,

If I kept it all inside, I’d allow you to win. I can’t do that because you’ve already taken so much from me. You altered my childhood. Yes, you did that.

From the hysterectomy to feeling like a vagabond in the midst of other girls to imagining what my biological child would be like, you’ve been the narrator.

But, don’t forget, it’s my voice.

And, I’m still here.

His Eye is on Them

My kiddo experienced some bullying at school last week. (Before I go any further with this, it’s fair to say that I KNOW my kids do and say things all the time that make us cringe. We’re not naive and fully get that even our precious angels can be antagonistic to others.) We spent time talking about choices and other things that can cause drama but wanted to make sure that our child understood God is an adoring Father and His eye is on them.

I said,

“It’s okay to apologize for things you’ve done wrong. It’s okay to say you’re sorry if you’ve hurt someone as long as you work on the issue at hand. But we don’t ever want you to apologize for who you are…for your interests or likes or anything like that. If you want to grow up and raise chickens, then by all means, be the best chicken parent around. If you want to spend all day with your head in a book, then do it. If you want to be a tattoo artist, go for it but don’t ever say you’re sorry for who you are. The things that other say make you a freak are exactly the things that make you unique. Embrace that. Understand?”

As my kiddo left our bedroom, I instantly thought of Matthew 10:29-31 (Message Bible version). I grabbed the Message bible and headed to my kid’s room.

“What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail – even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by all this bully talk. You’re worth more than a million canaries.”

It’s easy to get lost in the world and wonder where you fit in. I felt that way as a girl figuring out female-hood differently than my peers but I remember my mom telling me, “Caroline, His eye is on the sparrow so you know he’s watching after you as well.”

Goodness, friends. Growing up is tough stuff and dealing with rejection is so hard. It’s painful to watch our kids take paths that often have forks in the road. We don’t know which direction they’re going to head down but let’s never forget that God adores our kids. His eye is on them!

Most importantly, let’s continue to remind them of this as well.