Today my little sister got to see her baby. She is 8 weeks. My mom wanted to tell me all about it (although I said I would rather just talk to my sister). Mom went on about the "miracle" of life.
By this point, I am well aware that conception is indeed a miracle. With millions and millions of sperm and a failed Artificial Insemination, I know that babies being created is beyond miraculous. I don't need people to tell me.
I'm reading the Old Testament and so many women had "closed wombs." Hannah, the mother of Samuel, prayed and prayed and prayed and then eventually it says, "And then God remembered her."
I feel terrible. Terrible that my sister's joy magnifies my sorrow. Terrible for feeling it. I don't want to be that person that everyone has to "tip toe" around, but even walking by the baby aisle in Target feels like the cute toys and puppy ear hats laugh at me and remind me of the hole in my heart and womb.
I continually am trying to turn my worries and anxieties to prayers.
"I have a gut feeling that the Femera won't work this cycle" =Oh God, help it work
"What if we do IVF and that fails too?" =Jesus, I trust you. If that is your will, open that door.
"This saddens deepens daily. I'm tired of charting, hoping, temping, testing, monitoring" = Father, have mercy on me, give me patience. And REMEMBER ME.
This video brings tears to my eyes. Watch it if you want to experience even a small ounce of the thoughts and fears in women dealing with this. I don't have all the fears (ie husband leaving me for a fertile women), but I have many.