Many times in the Bible, God tells his people to remember what He has done. For us it is important to remember where we were several years ago on our journey to parenthood and where we are now. I recently categorized my posts (which you can click on to the right) and I noticed how little this year I have written about infertility. I haven't forgotten the deep pain and sadness. And for my readers who are currently struggling with this pain, I want to post some of my old blog postings and personal email excerpts to encourage you along the way. Here is a blog post followed by an email I had written about a year before:
Thoughts on Infertility and Adoption
Saturday, February 25, 2006
"I realized today that in my zeal to post pictures and updates of our adorable son...I have forgotten to post my personal thoughts along this journey. Many people have asked me if I am journaling this time period or atleast writing it down. I have begun a personal little journal I call "Letters to Isaac", but that will be for him when he is older. As far as the blog goes, I have been using this as my venue. There are times when I am alone that I reflect upon our infertility. When I hear that someone is pregnant, when I am at a wedding and I think of how hopeful I was at mine, when I see or hold a newborn. And I am sad. I am sad for the broken heart and this heavy burden I have carried these years. And I am sad that I won't be able to see my face reflected in my child's. And I am sad for Billy too and his loss. But I can say truthfully that I feel like I am beginning to heal. This baby that has graced our life is irreplacable. And I am struck with the feeling when I am rocking him at night that I could have never had this boy on my own. I read a lot...as you all know. And one of the most helpful books for me has been one titled simply, "Adopting After Infertility". I wanted to share the last line in the book which is the one I hold most dear to me in this season of my life. The author says, "We railed and we fought. But in charging through the thickets to find our way, in deciding together which turns to take, we found something more wonderful than we could have imagined and we've arrived in the place we most want to be. Of this we are certain: without infertility the three children who light us with the joy of living would not have been ours to parent. Different children might have brightened our lives-children with his crooked teeth, children with my lazy eye, children who sounded or looked like us. But they would not have been OUR children-Joel, Erica, and Lindsey-the children we were meant to parent."This is the way I feel about my child, Ayres....hopefully soon to be called Isaac. This baby has been long awaited for. He didn't come to us "brand new", but he still came to us tiny and small and in need of all the love and care and attention that we have so longed to give. I will be co-leading an infertility support group at our church starting next month. I have been in the groups hurting and wondering why God had given us this cross to bear. But now I think my attitude will be different, and I hope helpful to those who are right where we were. I remember I used to think I just want to be a Mom, I don't care how my children come. Just let them come. I'm so thankful to God that I now wear the proud title of "Mama". To be somebody's mother is the greatest career choice, life's calling I could have ever made."
Saturday, February 25, 2006
"I realized today that in my zeal to post pictures and updates of our adorable son...I have forgotten to post my personal thoughts along this journey. Many people have asked me if I am journaling this time period or atleast writing it down. I have begun a personal little journal I call "Letters to Isaac", but that will be for him when he is older. As far as the blog goes, I have been using this as my venue. There are times when I am alone that I reflect upon our infertility. When I hear that someone is pregnant, when I am at a wedding and I think of how hopeful I was at mine, when I see or hold a newborn. And I am sad. I am sad for the broken heart and this heavy burden I have carried these years. And I am sad that I won't be able to see my face reflected in my child's. And I am sad for Billy too and his loss. But I can say truthfully that I feel like I am beginning to heal. This baby that has graced our life is irreplacable. And I am struck with the feeling when I am rocking him at night that I could have never had this boy on my own. I read a lot...as you all know. And one of the most helpful books for me has been one titled simply, "Adopting After Infertility". I wanted to share the last line in the book which is the one I hold most dear to me in this season of my life. The author says, "We railed and we fought. But in charging through the thickets to find our way, in deciding together which turns to take, we found something more wonderful than we could have imagined and we've arrived in the place we most want to be. Of this we are certain: without infertility the three children who light us with the joy of living would not have been ours to parent. Different children might have brightened our lives-children with his crooked teeth, children with my lazy eye, children who sounded or looked like us. But they would not have been OUR children-Joel, Erica, and Lindsey-the children we were meant to parent."This is the way I feel about my child, Ayres....hopefully soon to be called Isaac. This baby has been long awaited for. He didn't come to us "brand new", but he still came to us tiny and small and in need of all the love and care and attention that we have so longed to give. I will be co-leading an infertility support group at our church starting next month. I have been in the groups hurting and wondering why God had given us this cross to bear. But now I think my attitude will be different, and I hope helpful to those who are right where we were. I remember I used to think I just want to be a Mom, I don't care how my children come. Just let them come. I'm so thankful to God that I now wear the proud title of "Mama". To be somebody's mother is the greatest career choice, life's calling I could have ever made."
Email Sent to a close friend on April 4, 2005
In my infertility book there is a chapter on wondering why God would do this to you. Deep in my core I don't wonder why God is doing this. I'm not angry at Him for I know He has suffered more and longer then I ever will. My faith has not been shaken...He is still everything to me. But, at times I do cry out wondering where He is in this. I understand a tiny bit of the pain Christ must have felt in saying "God why have you forsaken me". I feel a lot of what C.S. Lewis felt in saying "go to Him when your need is desperate...what do you find...a door slammed in your face." Am I horrible to feel this way?
At church there was an article in the back called "Worship in the Wilderness; recovering the lost language of lament." It talks about how lament is only learned in the wilderness, citing the Israelites. It also talks of Christ's own lamenting. It says, "Why do so many in developing countries find our message insincere and incomplete? How can we say we follow the Man of Sorrows and yet be so unfamiliar with the world's suffering or even our own?" It says that Job's suffering became the only offering he had left to give, and in the end God celebrated Job's faithfulness. What hope! That God not only hears the cries of my heart but rejoices in my laments, even when that is all I have to give. What freedom from guilt I feel when I am told the good news that God is here with me...that he wants me to feel the deep deep pain of my circumstance, and that he desires that I use that pain to sympathize and comfort others who hurt. That is the rainbow to see in the middle of this storm as your card so clearly reminded me.
Billy recalled the first time we went to this fertility clinic at the end of February. Across from us sat a couple in their 30's. The woman looked so downtrodden and at one point she gently laid her head on her husbands shoulder and sighed. I immediately felt tears come to my eyes and a lump in my throat, not for my own suffering...but for hers. I said later to Billy that there is no telling how long they have waited and wanted a child. How many months, years, they have hoped only to have those hopes dashed every month. I have similar pain but I can never really know the pain this woman faces every day...it is her own.
At church there was an article in the back called "Worship in the Wilderness; recovering the lost language of lament." It talks about how lament is only learned in the wilderness, citing the Israelites. It also talks of Christ's own lamenting. It says, "Why do so many in developing countries find our message insincere and incomplete? How can we say we follow the Man of Sorrows and yet be so unfamiliar with the world's suffering or even our own?" It says that Job's suffering became the only offering he had left to give, and in the end God celebrated Job's faithfulness. What hope! That God not only hears the cries of my heart but rejoices in my laments, even when that is all I have to give. What freedom from guilt I feel when I am told the good news that God is here with me...that he wants me to feel the deep deep pain of my circumstance, and that he desires that I use that pain to sympathize and comfort others who hurt. That is the rainbow to see in the middle of this storm as your card so clearly reminded me.
Billy recalled the first time we went to this fertility clinic at the end of February. Across from us sat a couple in their 30's. The woman looked so downtrodden and at one point she gently laid her head on her husbands shoulder and sighed. I immediately felt tears come to my eyes and a lump in my throat, not for my own suffering...but for hers. I said later to Billy that there is no telling how long they have waited and wanted a child. How many months, years, they have hoped only to have those hopes dashed every month. I have similar pain but I can never really know the pain this woman faces every day...it is her own.
I pray that my life will have deep purpose. I am very lost right now and I don't know what that purpose is. But God still has me here. And I won't give up the fight. There is someone out there that needs me. Please pray for continual strength to see past my own sorrow and into the sorrow that every person faces. Billy and I have a favorite quote I'm sure I've told you before, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle."
Let's keep fighting that battle together. I love you. Thank you for listening to my rantings. I can't seem to bring myself to journal these days...feeling like someone hears me brings greater relief.
Your dear friend in life,
Laurie
Let's keep fighting that battle together. I love you. Thank you for listening to my rantings. I can't seem to bring myself to journal these days...feeling like someone hears me brings greater relief.
Your dear friend in life,
Laurie
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing!
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