Perspective is Like a Kick in The Jimmy

Picture a beautiful day.  Kids running around.  Music playing softly in the background.  Your favorite song always puts you in a great mood and while you're walking down the stairs to answer the knock at the door you hear the laughter of little voices and smile.  It's going to be a great day.

When you open the front door there are two men standing side by side.  In uniform.  You turn back to see if the kids have followed you to the door.  The tears slowly slip down your cheeks and although you see their lips moving, you can not hear their words over the pounding of your heart. 

He is gone. 

He's never coming home.

This past weekend the 1000th soldier was killed in Afghanistan.  On the day that I realized that we had not conceived I thought of this family.  Their no was so much bigger than mine. 

For us it's not a no but a not right now.

But for this family, and like so many before them, it is the most painful kind of no.  It is final.  

No, you will never hold him again.

No, he will not be there for another Christmas or birthday.

No, your children will not understand why Daddy is not coming home.

No



No




No


I was so sad, so disappointed when our treatments failed this month because it means waiting until the end of the year to resume.  I looked at G long and hard this weekend and had such vivid images of him as a new baby in my arms, vulnerable and mine.  All mine forever.  And I cried because I wonder if I will ever feel that again.

And then I thought of this family.  And I think of my husband so far away in Iraq and how we all, even if just once, have imagined the dread of seeing men in uniform standing at our front door.  It is almost unthinkable.

So for now, I say thank you to all who prayed for our success.  Your prayers did not go unanswered or unheard.  I believe God in His wisdom has something even better in store for us so we will put patience into practice.  I am thankful that for now it is wait.

Because I understand how quickly things can change and how definite the no's can be.

Though Doth Not Mope

So I realize that yesterdays post may have seemed a bit....somber.  My bad.  That really was not my intention, but intentions be darned and maybe I was a bit mopier than I realized.

I think the thing about military life is that sometimes (i.e. always) it can leave you feeling a bit vulnerable.  I equate being a military spouse to living in the wild, wild west.

Without the corset dresses and lawlessness mind you.

Often the road ahead seems like uncharted territory.  A new duty station, a new city, can often seem just as desolate as a ghost town, blowing tumbleweeds and all.  It takes a strong constitution to unpack your new home in two days in order to host your first social gathering of strangers or walk into your eighth new church in eleven years.  I've done it and I'm sure I'll have to do it again.

You know you are a military spouse when you plan babies around deployment schedules and duty stations.

You know you are used to military life when said military interrupts your careful (and strategic) planning and you have your baby without darling husband by your side.  Oh.  And that rockin' duty station that will give you two years of marital togetherness? Got changed. A week before you are supposed to move.

The thing is, is that military life has been my spiritual saving grace.  I have been forced-out of a sheer desire to stay sane-to give God control of these life experiences that oftentimes leave me breathless.  I can honestly say, that after eleven years I am a walking, living example of Philippians 4:6-7 when it comes to my husbands deployments.  He is on the ground in Iraq and I do not have fear or anxiety.

It doesn't keep me up at night.  I don't get anxious when I hear the news about a roadside bomb.  I don't say to myself what if.  I have peace that can only be described as supernatural. 

God has seen fit to use our military life as a parallel to our journey with infertility.  I get it.  I am not in control.  I do not know the future and I have to find joy in my self imposed suffering.  I could almost laugh about it if I weren't so busy crossing my arms and frowning.  Like a four year old.  Throwing a temper tantrum.

I am blessed.  Even when my ovaries are working against me.  Even when the military makes a mockery of my careful and very reasonable plans.  I can find peace in the God who is Love.  There is joy in the waiting because God is in every twist and turn.  If I didn't have faith I think I would melt.

In a big teary puddle.  And I don't wear waterproof mascara.

Nobody Here But Us Whiners

So I'm sitting here pondering something profound to write about and all I get is that sound like when they're doing a test of the emergency broadcast system in the middle of your favorite television show.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

This is a test of your sanity after weeks of fertility drugs and fifty transvaginal ultrasounds.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Really.  All I hear in my head is a whole lot of high pitched nothin'.

I think it's because I feel stuck.  When I am anticipating something big I have the bad habit of finding my feet glued to the ground and my one track mind stuck in nuetral.

I'm trying to pray through it.  Over and over again saying "Your will not my own"  sometimes more fervently because I find I'm having to talk over myself.  Here I am hoping God hears my obedience and faithfulness and really what I want Him to hear is make me pregnant pretty please with a cherry on top! 

Do I know how to put God in a box or what?  Someone give this girl a prize!!

I wonder if God leans over to Jesus and says poor, poor dear.  Look how hard she tries not to be manipulative in prayer.  It's almost cute in a way, but really, when will she learn...


The thing is, is that it's not the end of the world if it didn't work this time.  We'll have to wait until Husband returns home at the end of the year to try again but other than that this is definitely not the end. I'm still young right?

Speaking of Husband.

It's been almost a month since he's left and we can finally start counting down his return home.  He sounds a bit sad when I talk to him.  Overwhelmed with an underwhelming job and a boss who doesn't listen.  He pours himself into work so he doesn't have to think about missing home and I can hear it in his voice every time he calls that he wishes he were here instead of there.

You'd think that would be the natural reaction but my husband loves being in the Navy.  He loves knowing that he's where God needs him to be and loves being a part of something bigger than himself.  Last year when he deployed he felt a huge sense of accomplishment-really proud of the job him and his team were doing to catch the bad guys.  Now? Not so much.  

So it looks like we're both stuck.

In a rut.

Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming

So, we're on day two of treatments, our second IUI will be this afternoon, so very soon after writing this I plan on being comatose for at least an hour so I can RELAX!

I will say that yesterdays treatment was not without disappointment.  Unfortunately, with science comes consequences and the thawing process was not kind to us.  Our count was very, very low which will significantly decrease our chance for success unless today's unthaw provides better results.

I must admit I was a bit deflated and discouraged.  I was so energized by the great response to Follistim and thought "this is it".  Of course, never say never, but I am more cautious than optimistic today.

I poured out my heart to Husband by email last night, asking him to pray for me to have peace.  I know that if this does not work it's not the end of the road, just the end for now.  We will not be able to resume until November when he returns home from deployment.  He called me this morning happy, excited and encouraging.  I love that he is my constant cheerleader and says "just have faith babe.  God is good". 

And he's right.  God is not only good but amazing.  All I have to do is look at my beautiful children to see the miracles He's provided for our family.   My biggest prayer right now is one that I say over and over-it was what Jesus spoke in the garden before His persecution and death:

"Not my will but Yours be done"

God, You are bigger than numbers, You are bigger than infertility, You are bigger than me.  Not my will but Yours. Amen.

The Thing Is

This is the thing with infertility.  Every decision that you make is a deliberate, one-foot- in-front-of-the-other step towards the future.  It is being totally aware that each and every decision is a choice to change your life.

I am missing my husband and today he feels further away than most.  This is the part of the process I like the least.  The feeling of separation that is there, even if he were next to me holding my hand because it's not as it should be.

But today is a good day.  One filled with promise and anticipation and the possibility of new life and love.  I have butterflies in my stomach.  I feel a bit like a girl with a secret that can't help but share.

I'm not sure how I will handle this going forward, I am on self imposed shaky ground in my desire to be open about the process.  Please forgive me if I don't say anything about the outcome either way-for different reasons I may be quiet.

If you think of me today will you say a prayer? 

Ho Hum and A Bottle of Rum

Totally kidding about the rum.  Got 'ya thinking, though, didn't it?

My mother is here.  She came last weekend and will be here through the end of this month.  Could there be anything more wonderful than sweet mommy hugs when Husband is gone?

Already the time seems to be flying by even as I think to myself this next six months is going to take forever.  I think doctors appointments and shuffling to and from school are keeping my mind busy.  It's almost a good thing that I am side tracked by follicle size and injection dosages.

Speaking of all things infertile, things in the baby making region seem to be going much better on Follistim than on Clomid.  Already we have surpassed last months stopping point and it looks as if we can go ahead with the IUI within the next week or so. Right now I waiver between the excitement of becoming pregnant (God willing) and trepidation at the thought of possible multiples.

Jesus take the wheel...

The PCOS medication, Metformin, thankfully! has been almost side effect free.  Happily the dry mouth is lessening and the craving for sweets has diminished significantly.  My RE says that being on Metformin can help lower the risk of hyper-ovulation so for that reason alone I am thankful that I'm taking this medication.

What else can I bore you with today? There are no hot topics jumbled up in my mind today except for politics but I've decided not to go there. 

OH! My brilliant son got accepted into the Gifted & Talented program for 2nd grade.   I'm so happy he got Husband's smarty pants and still shows creativity and a love of books from me-his most right brained momma.

Prim has gone almost four days without a temper tantrum.  Now to some of you, you may think-And your point is? 

Let me tell you, I am a much calmer mom on the inside without the screaming and feet stomping.  She has shown wonderful self control but I must admit that it is mostly me taking that extra breath and anticipating her sensitivity to certain situations that may be helping most.

Not to say, It's all about me and look how great I am for being patient.  It's really more of it's about time you started paying more attention to the little things dummy.

One day I'll catch on.

And seriously, don't you love the picture??  Babies on the brain...

Oh Nurse, Can I Get a Straight Jacket Please?

It's only noon and I have already had one of those days. I've already prayed two dozen times. Rambling, incoherent prayers for my family and myself in particular.  Half whining, half pleading for some semblance of strength and peace while trying to praise Him in between wiping away tears.

It started okay I guess. I woke up feeling better than I had the two days prior and was relieved to have the energy to get out of bed (thank you Robitussin with Codeine) and get G ready for school. Little Miss likes sleeping in these days-can I get an AMEN-and I was looking forward to our breakfast routine just him and I. I inwardly groaned as I tried to rustle G from sleep. "Get up love, it's time to get ready for school" was met with a fierce Uh Uh and an attempt to slide beneath the blankets again. I could see how this was going to play out, we've been having more of these days the past few months and I tried to put on a happy face and entice him from his warm caccoon.

"Get up and get ready and I'll pour you a big bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch".  Scowling eyes. "Let's go, buddy, we don't want to be late".  The start of tears. "Come on" I coaxed now pulling him from bed. I don't want to go to school he tells me. School is no fun and I'm sick of working!

I manage to get him dressed and down stairs for breakfast but when it came time to put his shoes on the tears started, the feet stomping commenced and a poor Zhu Zhu pet was kicked aside in frustration.  I don't like school anymore. Why do I always have to stay so long at school and work? I never get to be with you and I never have time to play!

Oh how the mother in me wanted to wrap him in my arms and not let go. I know that this is partly to do with H's deployment next week. I also know that the seven year old boy in him just wants to play and have fun.  I ache for him because I can not make this easier.  How do you tell a child that life is not always fair, our responsibilities are not always fun and pain can seem like a constant companion?

I held his hand with Prim in tow, still in pajamas, to the bus stop. He held onto me with such fierceness that even with coaxing from the bus driver he would not let go. I carried him home, put both kids in the car and drove to school while he sobbed and wailed that he did not want to go to school.  We walked to class, put away his things and a half an hour later, after holding him and whispering words of prayer and encouragement, started to leave. He began to cry all over again, big, fat, rolling tears and all I could do was tell him I love you and walk away.

I had a rock in my stomach the rest of the morning. I got home with enough time for a quick shower for me, get Prim ready for school and once again head out the door. After dropping her off I headed to the doctor's office for one more ultrasound to confirm this cycle had been a wash.

The ultrasound tech walks in and starts to do her thing. As she's reading off measurements I ask her if she's measuring for size of the follicles to which she responds that they are only checking for ovulation. What? I ask her. I thought I was here to have the follicles measured to see if they had matured over the past week. Her reply was curt and snippy and after a few more back and forth exchanges the tears could not be held back any longer.

When I get frustrated I cry.  I am not rude to other people. I am not usually confrontational and I do not reply in anger when I feel like I've been wronged. Are there exceptions to this rule? Yeah. Who doesn't loose it sometimes? But today, after my morning with G, still not feeling well and just being ticked off at being infertile plus arguing with the ultrasound tech about semantics just culminated in frustrated tears.  She was quick to finish her scan, try to explain why there was miscommunication and then wrap me in a big, fluffy hug which only made me cry harder.


My doctor must think I am an emotional wreck. It's the second time he has seen me cry and my attempts to tell him I really do have it all together probably fall on deaf ears.  How can I explain that this process is very lonely? With all of the people involved the person I need the most can do nothing but offer the token words of encouragement and now will have to do it from several thousands of miles away. How could I say that my tears were really for my son-that my smiles can only last so long before I need to be released from the sadness. That as a mother I must be an emotional trapeze artist, maintaining a delicate balance of stability in the face of so much change and disruption.

I'm sure I was the talk of the office this morning.  Maybe my tears were seen as a tantrum for not having a good cycle.  Maybe they will pity me my infertility or departing husband.  Maybe next time they will offer me a sedative before my ultrasound.  It can't matter right now.

The only thing that has to matter is making it through next week.  I have to get through saying goodbye which, as always, is the most excruciating part of deployment. I need to smile while watching my husband walk away, praying that God will keep him safe and that one day, when he least expects it, I can say Hey babe. We did it. We're pregnant.

Eggs Stink

 Why are my little follicles being so stubborn?  Still no growth. Even with double the dose of follicle stimulating hormones this past three days-nada.  In fact they measured smaller today than the past two ultrasounds. Maybe the measurements were a bit off but really there was no change in maturity.

Unfortunately, that means this cycle will have to be canceled. We may start medication for PCOS in the next few days and then begin a more aggressive schedule of injections at the onset of my next cycle.  Clomid is officially out of the picture.

H leaves for deployment in three weeks which also changes things a bit.  I guess we'll be stockpiling the 'boys' so I can continue for the next few months.  How weird would that be five months into deployment to email H and tell him we're preggo?  I can hear the navy wife gossip now.....

So I'm just going to keep my chin up, keep praying and praising God.  He put this urge in our heart for a reason so I remain faithful that we are still on the right path.  I have to keep reminding myself that we are not on a time schedule, I am young.

This week we are off to DC for spring break and family time in our Nation's Capital.  Thank you for your continued prayers and best wishes.

XOXO

Sweet Talking My Ovaries

On the way to see Dr. Robin today I decided to give the girls a bit of a pep talk.  I considered that maybe they're shy. Or maybe they're late bloomers. MAYBE the constant sight of that probe coming at them has scared them silly.  Who wouldn't want some words of encouragement?

I tried to explain the importance of this appointment, taking care to be understanding without sounding judgmental. Of course I understand that it's not your fault you're not growing fast enough (or at all really).  Yes, I can see how it must be frustrating for you, I mean, a baby is like an Academy Award where you come from.....

You do remember that H is leaving for deployment in three weeks right? I know, I know I don't have to rub it in-just wanted to make sure we're on the same time table.

I arrived at my appointment cautiously optimistic.  The pep talk went well, my prayers were said and there was nothing left to do but lie down and...well...you get the picture...  The results weren't good.  Even with two days of stimulating injections there has been no follicle growth. But my ovaries feel huge I tell her. Maybe the measurements are off? (the ultrasound tech did seem a bit distracted today). Unfortunately not she said.

So, we either wait for the next cycle or do two more days of double dosed injections plus one more for good measure.  Then we recheck on Monday to see if we need to wait.  I didn't know what to say at first. My first thought was our planned trip for next week to DC. It's spring break for the kiddos and I don't want to ruin our plans. On the other hand, I have been through the ringer physically and it would be a waste not to give it the old college try.

I ask her if this is normal or am I a freak of nature. She laughed and said no, this isn't normal but it is typical for PCOS patients and although I haven't been officially diagnosed, it seems to be heading in that direction. 

I sighed, decided to try the higher dose of injectables and come back Monday morning for another scan.  If this doesn't do the trick I will begin medication to treat PCOS while doing a full cycle of injections instead of Clomid.

I had no idea it was going to be this hard. Even with eleven years of infertility I still find every new twist in our journey difficult. It makes it hard to catch my breath sometimes, like every step forward is measured in either failure or success with no gray area. 

On this Good Friday I reminded myself that even though there has been disappointment, there has also been-more importantly-victory.  I am reminded that all is not what it appears to be. God's view of this life and our circumstances are incredibly different than my narrow and human perspective.  I may find grief in this moment but I remain faithful that God will uses this for His glory, for His ultimate good purposes.

Round and Round We Go

Today was my fourth ultrasound this cycle and the news was disappointing. After five days of Clomid and four on Estrogen my follicles still have not matured to where they should be. They are stuck around 10 and 11.5 and have done little in the way of growth since last Saturday. 

I have to be honest, my heart was incredibly heavy to hear that we may have to skip this month's IUI. The doctor and I talked extensively about this and she was wonderful in answering all of my questions about why this is happening and what can be done going forward.

I told her that I just don't understand. With G we were pregnant after one cycle of treatment and needed no medication. None. I know I'm older but still feel like I have two good years before I should be worried about egg quality. We went back and forth about the underlying cause of follicle/egg immaturity and found our way back to PCOS.

My ovaries are considered Polycystic but my blood work is not necessarily indicative of the "syndrome".  I find it frustrating as I have every symptom (including the infertility) and with todays results I see it as one more check in the box for PCOS.  I am relieved that my doctor is open minded. She said that over the years the difficult aspect of diagnosing PCOS is that the standards for testing are always changing.  As a reproductive endocrinologist of many years she has seen the line in the sand smoothed over and redrawn only to leave some patients outside of the new 'criteria' without the opportunity for treatment.  If this month is unsuccessful she is wiling to begin treatment for PCOS along with other fertility drugs to induce better stimulation.

We left the appointment in agreement that  I would do two shots of injectible hormones in a last ditch attempt to mature the largest follicles. If that is successful we will proceed with IUI, if not than her opinion is to begin the PCOS medication along with injectable hormones to see if those give us better results.

 These decisions are not without difficulty for me. There is risk associated with all of this and I have to consider the two children I already have. I think about the money that we are going to pour into this effort all for the sake of having another biological child and feel a sense of guilt.  This is money and time and effort that could be going towards an adoption.

But....

Something inside of me yearns for the feel of those small kicks and hiccups.  I keep asking God to clear a way. Make the path to growing our family straight as an arrow. Help me to be strong yet bend to Your will, oh Lord.  Consider my heart yet keep me from being a victim of my own fleshly desires.  God fill this space with Your Spirit so that there is no room for doubt or uncertainty. 

The Accidental Parent

This I have never been nor ever will be. We did not have an 'oops' baby or an unexpected surprise after a particularly passionate rendition of the horizontal hula. Our children are here because of methodical planning, medical intervention and lots (and lots) of paperwork.

So, as I sit here staring at the bottle of Clomid and what these ten little pills will mean, I ponder the question I have asked myself a million times. Why does it matter that it doesn't come naturally?

I have often romanticized the journey to pregnancy and in doing so created a fable by which I set my sights. I know that I need to let go, face the reality of our circumstances and be thankful for the multiple avenues available to us in order to expand our family. We have been blessed and I need to acknowledge that.

I guess what I want to say out loud is, God please let this be easy. Just this once let our timing line up with yours but at the same time Your will not mine....

Down the hatch.

Adoption on My Mind....

So this month was the first month we could start the process of getting pregnant. After the HSG we had to decide if we were going to try this month naturally (i.e. IUI but no drugs) or wait until next month when I could begin the cycle with Clomid. H and I talked about it at nauseum, him being of the opinion that we try right away while I touted the "what-if's" until he began banging his head against the proverbial wall.

My argument lay with the fact that H is deploying but we're not sure when. It's either next month or in June. Either to Iraq or the Philippines. Six months or seven. I mean-could life be any more up in the air right now? I AM NOT HAVING A BABY AGAIN BY MYSELF I tell him.

Then of course H starts going on and on about having faith blah, blah, blah. Literally-that's what I said to his side of the argument. Blah, blah, blah. (secretly, it's in these moments when I wish I were two so I could cover my ears, stomp my feet and squish my eyes real tight). Can't a girl just worry, fret and 'what-if' for a good ten minutes before hubby throws the faith card? I say this with complete levity because I already know what God has put on our heart. It's my thinking, my second guessing that gets in the way. God's timing is perfect and we will have another baby if and when He sees fit.

I was off to the RE again today for an ultrasound to try and predict ovulation. Much to my surprise the doctor thinks I ovulated within the past few days. What!? He still has to confirm with a blood test but all signs point to this month being a wash. I'm pretty surprised and just a little disappointed.

Why just a little? (thanks for asking!). Because I think of babies in far away lands. Sweet faces with no families. The quick pull at my heart when I think of doing it all over again. God whispering James 1:27 and Isaiah 1:17 in my ear.

Wrapping up the Weekend

It was a fabulous weekend and as we head into March, I think of the precious weeks ahead before a scheduled May deployment. H's only been home for six months and already we have to begin the preparation to say goodbye again.

Tonight at our couples bible study our prayer request was for guidance for the timing of fertility treatments. Technically we can begin in about two weeks (two weeks!!) but I get nervous with the timetable. If we are blessed and become pregnant within the first cycle or two of treatments, it would put us weeks within H arriving home from Iraq. I do not want to have another baby by myself-once was enough.

Sometimes I feel like it is hard to discern what is God's will and what is our free will. God has so obviously placed this desire on our hearts but then life gets in the way. Sometimes I have a hard time just wrapping my mind around spending another half a year without my best friend......And then I think of all of the time lost not pushing ahead and want to let God work out the details.

God, I know you are sovereign and in complete control. I just need another reminder because I place so much importance on my timing. Your will, not mine. More of you, less of me.

Don't Be Jealous

My afternoon consisted of a speculum, a catheter and a Spanish/Italian doctor with a French accent. Jealous yet?

It's not every day you get to see the inner workings of your uterus. Besides the fact that I broke out into a cold sweat just remembering this procedure seven years ago it went fairly well.

Today was another reminder why it's taken this long to jump back on the fertility-treatment-bandwagon. So far this month I have had one consultation, four panels of blood work, three vaginal (yes, I said vagina) ultrasounds, an annual exam and an HSG.

HSG stands for 'Hysterosalpingogram' and is a common procedure during the work-up phase prior to diagnosing and/or treating infertility. Because my last HSG was done prior to G over seven years ago, I had to bite the bullet (or leather strap) and have this done again at the request of my reproductive doc.

I must commend the medical field for improving this procedure and BRAVO! for my doctor for being current on technological advances! The HSG consists of (cross your legs ladies) threading a catheter into the vagina, through the cervix and into the uterus where dye is injected, the catheter inflates a small balloon trapping the contrast in the uterine cavity which then proceeds to fill with dye and spill into (hopefully) both fallopian tubes. This is done while an x-ray machine is centered over the pelvis and the results can be seen live on a separate screen. For all of my anxiety over the discomfort this was NOTHING compared to my experience years ago when the cervix was actually clamped to the side in order to make way for the catheter. Barbaric if you ask me.

So, I am learning that during all of this when I am flat on my back and cursing the process, to imagine the feel of a baby in my arms. I remember the awe of feeling a new life stirring inside me and the joy of kissing newborn toes and I take the pain. H says I'm taking one for the team and I guess that's true. Who else would endure all of this except for a mother?

Speculums Are A Torture Device

If there are any men reading this blog you may want to just skip this one and check back in tomorrow......



This post will be short as today was hectic, the ultrasound technician was a bit vicious with "the probe" and I drank way too much sweet tea to stay alert during my three hour appointment with the fertility specialist whom I will now, lovingly, refer to as The Uterus Whisperer. The appointment went extremely well, it is obvious why the Uterus Whisperer has the reputation she does in this area. She is, in my humble opinion, an angel whose halo is a speculum.

Right off the bat she wanted to know if I've been tested for Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I know what it is, but no, have not been tested. It was her feeling that that is a good place to start to see if there are any underlying causes for infertility that may have been overlooked. She ordered tons of blood work and had an ultrasound of the girl parts done on sight. The results being polcystic ovaries for sure but she won't know if it is a "syndrome" until the labs come back. The ultrasound also showed a swollen fallopian tube and something hangin' around my right ovary. Let's just state for the record that my right ovary has really been a nuisance over the years.

So, going forward we'll wait for the labs and then go from there. A diagnosis of PCOS would almost be a relief but I'll have to wait and see. It's nice to be in the care of someone who doesn't wait around to see if something happens. My eggs aren't getting any younger....

The Silent Epidemic

Infertility: Secondary, primary, unexplained, polycystic ovarian syndrome, endometriosis, male sperm factor, luteal phase defect, fibroids, hypothyroidism, fallopian tube damage, ovulation disorders, infection, caffeine, weight gain.....


I have often wondered why my body does not perform as God intended. Call me old-fashioned, but I feel honored to have been born a woman. My body can create (with a little help that is), carry and birth another human being. My curves were designed to adjust to a growing baby, feed a hungry infant and carry a toddler on my hip. When I married at twenty-one and began trying in earnest to conceive a year later, I thought; this is going to be easy. I mean, have you seen the women in my family? Getting pregnant was NOT our collective weakness.

Unfortunately, time dragged on and months turned into years. The frustration, the bitterness, the uncertainty felt unbearable at times. I would plead, beg and barter with God on my knees daily. Once a month I would find myself crying angry, frustrated tears. I was infuriated. Furious at God for being so quiet. Angry at myself for not being a size six in perfect health. Every time I turned around I saw the beautiful bump of a pregnant woman and I felt sucker-punched.

At twenty-five, after tests, procedures and more tests, we underwent our first intra-uterine insemination. It was a Sunday morning at 9am, in a doctor's office with my husband, a nurse practitioner and an ultra sound machine where we conceived G. I had finally resigned myself to God's mercy and timing and it was then that I became pregnant. I put my trust in Him, not knowing if it would work, not knowing if it would take one month, one year or ever. Today I can see that God's desire was to work on me during my wait. To mold my faith and strengthen my heart because life is not always what we hope it to be. Now I am thankful that in those moments of sorrow and pain I still found my face turned upward. I was crying, but it was still to the God of Creation. It would have been so easy to walk away and to blame Him for the loss of my heart's desire.

I read a statistic recently that one in six couples face the challenges and heartache of infertility. How is it that every year hundreds of thousands of women are unable to conceive naturally? Is is pollution, chemicals in our water, pesticides in our food? Are women starting families too late because of the (understandable) desire for a career? Is premarital sex making our girls more prone to infection that damage delicate reproductive organs? No matter the reason, it is astounding to comprehend the growing generation of children born to the modern miracles of assisted reproduction.

When G was eighteen months we tried for a second baby and failed. Although I felt sadness, I had peace that it wasn't the right time for us. One year later we were in the beginning stages of adopting our little girl and I have never regretted not getting pregnant again at that time. I have often told people that the first day we had Prim to ourselves in Thailand, I looked at her and G together and felt like someone was missing. After two and half years of Prim being home and much prayer and consideration, we are moving forward. Tomorrow is my first appointment with the reproductive endocrinologist.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.” Psalm 91:1-2