The Ugly ‘I’ word … Infertile

In order to tell the full backstory of my faith walk to The Kid in 2002, I decided to take you back to the beginning where the journey began, 1993.

In September 1993, Mr. Small Town and I were married.  He was 31 and I was 27.  We were in love and had dreamy plans about our life together.  We were a double income, no kid couple who had great jobs and a new house.  The next step in our plan was to have children.  Since I was finishing up my bachelor’s degree, which was being paid entirely by the company where I worked, the plan was that I would get pregnant and deliver shortly after graduation – about 2 years into our marriage.  It was a good plan.

However, things didn’t go according to plan.  Graduation came and went, but no pregnancy.  As I cried, people patted my hand and told me that it was just the stress of working full time and going to school part time.  That was the reason why I wasn’t getting pregnant.  It made sense.  After graduation, I embarked into a new job as I worked my way up the corporate ladder.

I decided to be more relaxed.  I thought that if I didn’t dwell on the whole ‘not being pregnant’, I would get pregnant!  Surly that would do it.  So I tried not to think about it, until the disappointment came each month.   Sure, I was stressed but I knew plenty of stressed people who were getting pregnant.  What was going on?!?

After 6 months into the new job, there still was no pregnancy.  I started getting concerned and a little voice inside told me that something wasn’t right.  Mr. Small Town was great during this time, wrapping his arms around me each month as the disappointment came.  He was convinced that nothing was wrong.  When I mentioned the word “infertile” he assured me that we were NOT in THAT category of people.

By the time October 1996 came, the small voice inside was yelling at me to go get checked out.  We’d been at this baby making for about 2 years and there was still no baby.  So I made an appointment with THE.BEST.Baby-making doctor to see what was going on.  This was the beginning of many, many tests for the two of us to see where the problem was in the baby-making process and get it fixed.

By this time, people stopped asking about when we were going to have a baby.  Every time I heard of someone getting pregnant, I broke down in tears.  I tried to hold them back as much as I could, but the hurt and disappointment were just below the surface.  Why wouldn’t God let me get pregnant?!?

I started going down a dangerous path of resenting anyone who got pregnant which seemed to be everyone that I came into contact with.  Everywhere I went, there were pregnant women.  I didn’t want to be around them, their happiness, their anticipation, or their growing bellies.  I wanted my belly to grow with my own child, with Mr. Small Town’s child.  I wasn’t a happy person to be around.

After several tests, the doctor decided it was time to do surgery to see what was going inside of me.  Long story short, my inside was a mess because of endometriosis.  The best solution was to take all the estrogen out of my body in hope that in doing so, my body would heal itself.  I began a series of monthly injections of the drug Lupron which lasted seven months.

To say that this was an awful experience would be an understatement.  As the monthly shots of Lupron depleted my body of estrogen, my body went further into full menopause.  Here I was 31 years old and instead of making babies like everyone around me, I was doing the opposite!

I would love to tell you that I was the most loving wonderful wife to Mr. Small Town, but I can’t.  I was disappointed, sad, angry, upset, resentful, and just plain miserable about what was and wasn’t going on with my body AND I made sure everyone around me knew it and that they felt it too.  During those 8 months poor Mr. Small Town wondered where his sweet, loving bride went and who was this wretch who replaced her.  I’m convinced that during this time, he made the conscience choice to live out his marriage vows to love, honor and cherish me through sickness and in health!

I would love to tell you that I had a wonderful walk with God and had supportive, loving people surrounding me through this, but I didn’t.  I was angry – both with God and the couples in my small group who were getting pregnant even when they didn’t want to get pregnant!  Why wasn’t He healing my body and just blessing me with a child?!?  I had always followed and loved Him.  I still loved Him but I couldn’t understand why He was allowing this to happen to me.  I could still pray for people but I couldn’t talk with Him about the infertility.  I felt like He abandoned me when I needed Him the most. It didn’t make sense.

To make matters worse, I had well-meaning people counsel me.  First, someone said that I was making “the whole pregnancy thing” an idol.  It consumed my life and that was sinful.   So I confessed my heart out to God, picked up and carried that bag of garbage around with me.  The next person said that Mr. Small Town and I probably had unconfessed sin in our lives and that this was God’s way of dealing with it.  If we repented our sin, surely we would get pregnant.  Again, another session of deep confession and garbage bag number 2 that I picked up and carried around with me.  The third individual said that Mr. Small Town and I were “too fussy and particular” in order to have children and that we would need to loosen our standards.  Surely that was the reason that God wasn’t blessing us – garbage bag number 3.  Not to mention the well-meaning people who said that when we stop thinking about it, it would happen.  Or that we should adopt, that was the way to get pregnant.

By this time, my head was swimming and I was dragging around several bags of garbage that were full of negativity.  I went into isolation and didn’t want to hear any more “well-meaning” advice.  It was seven months into the Lupron shots and I had hit the final stage of menopause, depression.

Here’s a good time to stop the story and for me to take a deep breath.  If you come back next week, I’ll have more of the story to share.

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Dear friend, have you ever been in a place in life that you didn’t want to be – a place that didn’t make sense?  Have you ever had well-meaning advice or counsel that tore your spirit apart rather than building you up?  Have you ever carried around garbage bags filled with negativity?  I have and it’s not fun.  It’s disappointing and disheartening.

I am so grateful for the unchanging attributes and promises of God that never change.  It was the only thing that got me through this ugly period in my life.

Be sure to check back next week for more of the story!  Blessings to you my friend!