A Grace Disguised

I've mentioned in my "About Me" section that I am a graphic artist at a marriage ministry. Since it's a ministry, I am not only encouraged to grow in my design skills, but also to grow spiritually. Our close-knit department meets weekly to do a devotion together and to pray for each other.

The last few months, we've been making our way through a book called A Grace Disguised. We've recently had a team member who was very close to each of us pass away. We've begun reading this book as we deal with this extraordinary loss.

The book talks about how the soul grows through loss. Even though most of the time the author is referring to loss in the context of death of a loved one, he mentions all kinds of loss such as a failing business, divorce, raising a mentally challenged child, and yes, even infertility.

Since my friend's death and my first abnormal test happened within a week of each other, I feel like the grief from one loss fed off of the other loss, and vice versa. I was at my darkest point. A Grace Disguised has been helpful as I sorted out feelings of anger towards God, and issues that I had regarding God's sovereignty.

As I finished the book this morning, I liked one paragraph especially:

"Much good has come from it, but all the good in the world will never make the accident itself good. It remains a horrible, tragic, and evil event to me. A million people could be helped as a result of the tragedy, but that would not be enough to explain and justify it. The badness of the event and the goodness of the results are related, to be sure, but they are not the same. The latter is a consequence of the former, but the latter does not make the former legitimate or right or good. I do not believe that I lost three members of my family in order that I might change for the better, raise three healthy children, or write a book. I still want them back, and I always will, no matter what happens as a result of their deaths."

This paragraph was helpful to me at this specific time. I've been trying to figure out if I can be angry about my situation and hate infertility, or if I have to be happy about it. The truth is, I don't have to be happy about it. Infertility is unnatural. It's painful. It is a profound loss—whether or not you'll eventually have children, adopt, or choose to remain childless.

But what about that verse that says to "count it all joy, my brother, when you meet trials of various kinds"? I don't think that means that you are happy about what has happened to you. I think it's talking about a stewardship of pain that is crucial in the Christian life. James even goes on to say, "for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness."

As Jerry Sittser points out in his book, A Grace Disguised, the good that comes from a loss does not make the loss good. The loss will always be bad. I will always hate infertility. But I will strive to find joy in what God is doing in my life right now.

____________

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.

Psalm 139:13–14

This verse is probably the most popular verse for an expectant mother to read. She clings to the fact that God is forming her baby, and that her baby is fearfully and wonderfully made. What a comfort! I even have read Psalm 139 several times during my infertility journey, because it's fun to imagine myself pregnant and clinging to that promise. 

I read this verse again a couple of days ago, but instead of thinking about a perfect, plump baby, I thought of myself. I don't feel like I am "wonderfully" made. I hate my body—not in a minor "I need to lose 5–10 pounds" kind of way, but in a "my body is a broken, decaying, pile of mess that doesn't have the ability to get pregnant, and probably can't even keep a pregnancy." It's dark, isn't it? Well, it's my reality right now.

Before infertility, I knew just the basics about my reproductive system. That was enough at the time. Since joining the infertile club, I have learned WAY more about the reproductive system than what the average person knows. And Oh. My. Goodness. It is complex! I've read some of the latest research in medical journals. I've gotten to where I recognize certain doctor's names, and I know what their research is about. I've even come across varying opinions on one tiny aspect. 

I'm currently reading about beta-3 integrins and their role in implantation. People with endometriosis (such as myself) often do not express beta-3 integrins during any given cycle. Some doctors believe that beta-3 is key to successful implantation and that lack of it would cause implantation failure. Others are adamant that beta-3 has no effect, and it doesn't even matter if it's there or not—so they won't even test for it. See what I mean? Girls—our bodies are crazy complex! We can't even understand it!

I researched to empower myself. To become my own advocate. I know that I care about my health more than my doctor does. I needed to be able to communicate with him and ask appropriate questions. But now I'm more confused than ever. There are so many things that can go wrong making pregnancy not possible. I've only had 3 different tests so far. How in the world can I rule out everything and find the root of the problem? Especially when doctors are still researching the intricacies of the reproductive system and infertility. 

Instead of feeling empowered, I feel powerless.

Instead of being my own advocate, I don't even know where to start. 

But Psalm 139 reminds us that our dear Father in heaven does have power. He formed my entire body, down to the tiniest cell. His works are wonderful. Sometimes when I am trying to make sense of how my body functions (or is supposed to function), I am simply in awe of the creator. His power, His knowledge.

Psalm 139 also reminds me that I should look to my ever-present Lord to be my advocate. He cares more about my health than my doctor does. He's not confused by infertility. He's not forming theories, testing them, and trying to convince doctors about His findings. He intimately knows the intricacies of my body. I know he can heal my body—while my doctor (who I respect very much) is still trying to find out what's wrong with me. 

And when I feel like my body is a "broken, decaying, pile of mess", I can read that I am fearfully and wonderfully made—exactly the way my Lord intended.

____________

Compassion in Suffering

Facebook is a danger zone for someone struggling with infertility. It's possible that several of your Facebook friends are dealing with infertility, but they're obviously not broadcasting what is going on (or not going on) in their uterus or testicles. But for those who are having babies, posting every single update of their pregnancy journey is the funnest part about Facebook! Ultrasound pictures, cute stories about seeing the baby's foot across her stomach, and OH MY GOSH, complaining (!!!) about pregnancy.

Whenever a pregnant woman complains about her pregnancy, it's like my heart turns off, and I have absolutely no compassion in my soul. And I hate that, I truly do. I know pregnancy is hard, although I've never experienced it myself. But I'll find myself in a competition with her thinking, "I'm suffering way more than she is! At least she has a time limit on her suffering, and at the end of it all, she gets to hold her newborn baby! Who knows how long I'll be dealing with this crap! And who knows if I'll hold a baby at the end of this!"

I keep reminding myself that suffering is suffering, no matter what. It's not a competition, and it shouldn't even be compared from one person to the next. The fact that I'm suffering right now does not mean that I am excused from showing compassion and love to a brother or sister. 

I found an article a couple of weeks ago about singleness (click here to read). Ironically, it has been by far the most helpful article in relation to infertility. I simply went through the entire article and replaced the word "singleness" with "infertility". It called me out on a lot of bad attitudes that I have in my heart. Here's one quote from the article:

"Entitlement is one of the great dangers of singleness infertility. It creeps into everything, but at its core it convinces us to focus exclusively on us—a kind of survival mentality—often at the expense of others. As entitlement and self-preoccupation grow and invade our hearts, we become less interested in and compassionate toward others. But the life-giving fruit of the Spirit is kindness—an attitude of friendly sympathy and generosity."

After I read this, I thought about Jesus. He is the ultimate example of compassion, friendly sympathy, and generosity. He knew that he was going to experience ultimate suffering. Brutal death on the cross, taking on the weight of sin of the entire world—past, present, and future. But as he ministered to people, he didn't look at their suffering and say, "Pssh, you don't even KNOW suffering! I'll show you suffering!" He had compassion on them. He joined them in with their suffering. He healed them.

God has placed infertility in my life right now. I hate it. It is literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me—and I'm not trying to be dramatic, here. But I am choosing to believe that He is using it to make me more Christlike. I know I've been seeing more and more of how far short I fall.

I want to have compassion for others. I want to be able to see other people's suffering, and respond to it with kindness—not with entitlement or competition. I'm a major work in progress.

____________

You Know You're Infertile If . . .

Being in the South my whole life means that I've heard my fair share of redneck jokes. Just in case you are wondering, they do not strike close to home. However, for a couple of months I've been making my own list in my head related to infertility. I have picked up strange habits that I didn't even know existed until I was struggling to get pregnant. So here's my list:

You Know You're Infertile If . . .

1. You have documentation of every single time you've had sex since at least a year, maybe more. For all of you infertiles, sex is just a synonym for "baby dancing". I know it's been a while since we said S-E-X.

2. You can read the TTC (trying to conceive) forums without getting confused by the jargon. When I first started getting on the Trying to Conceive forums, I literally could not read what the girls were talking about. There are abbreviations for everything. DH, DD, DS, BBT, OPK, BFP, TTC, BD, CD, DPO, the list goes on and on. If you are new to the infertile club, just hang in there . . . pretty soon it will be your new language. Click here for a list of common abbreviations.

3. You've given or received "baby dust". I've never given baby dust to anyone—I know, I'm so selfish, right? But I have received baby dust when I've asked questions on forums. It hasn't really helped yet, but I guess it can't hurt, right?

4. You get annoyed when people suggest weird tricks to help you get pregnant, yet you scour the internet constantly about weird tricks to help you get pregnant. I have started doing a lot of strange things like castor oil packs, rubbing essential oils on my feet, eating certain foods to make the pH of my vagina and cervical mucous more alkaline (and therefore more sperm friendly). As of now, I'm considering doing a liver cleanse so that my body is able to remove toxins and excess hormones more effectively. The other day the thought even crossed my mind that perhaps my shampoo is the cause of my infertility! I mean, it must be! Toxins and chemicals piled on my head every morning! Then I have to remind myself that people get pregnant regardless of shampoo use.

5. You think store bought pregnancy tests are for suckers. I mean, come on, are you really going to pay $10 for a box with 2 or 3 tests when you can have 100 for $30? Buying pregnancy strips online in bulk is the only way to go, if you ask me! If I ever get pregnant, I'll just wait for a positive pregnancy strip, then I can go get a cute/expensive Clear Blue test for pictures and to show husband.

6. Your husband is sick of hearing about the status of your cervical mucous. I don't think my husband can ever look at a cracked open egg the same way again. I'll leave it at that.

7. You obsessively check your temperature. Once I get that positive OPK, I am even more obsessive about my BBT. I've been known to check my temperature several times in one night whenever I wake up. Husband is not a fan of the thermometer and its beeping.

______________

Let's pause for a moment. 1-7 are things we can laugh about. But as we know, infertility is a life crisis. Laughing at it can be therapeutic in a way, but we also have to acknowledge the pain—whether you yourself are an infertile, or you are a friend of an infertile.

______________

8. There is not a location that you haven't cried. I have cried in the car, my cubicle, every grocery store in my area, several restaurants, church, teaching Sunday School, family functions, out walking the dog, weddings, doctor's office, etc. You avoid going to certain events just because you know that you will cry and you don't want to make a scene. I haven't cried at a baby shower only because I've refused to go to any baby showers (I've cried at home instead).

9. You struggle with guilt. This may seem odd, but it's very common for infertiles. You think that if only you had made different/better choices in the past, you would not be infertile now. Maybe you should have started trying sooner. Maybe you should have eaten better or controlled your weight better. I even thought that I had somehow cursed myself into infertility. In the past, I would get so angry after being asked several times when I was going to have kids, that I thought, "If only I hadn't been so angry." It doesn't make sense. There's even guilt about how you feel around pregnant women and women with young kids. Maybe I'm just a bit more evil than the average person, but I can not look at a pregnant woman. I get angry, bitter, and jealous. The same goes for women with babies. (FYI, I'm working through the anger, bitterness, and jealousy)

10. Every month is just another chance for you to build up hope and then have it come crashing down. When we first started trying to conceive, I was very laid back. I was even happy when my period would come because I felt it was a good indication that things were returning to normal after getting of birth control. But when you're struggling with infertility, you start thinking that hope might be your enemy. Because you know your period is just around the corner. And it will come. Because something is wrong with your body. That's what you tell yourself.

____________

The World of If

Husband and I were driving home from dinner the other day. As always, my mind was on pregnancy and babies. As I was talking, I started one of my sentences with the word "when". "When" painfully rang in my ears as I thought, "It may never happen for us." I immediately corrected myself to say "if". Then for the next few seconds, I internally beat myself up for using the "when" word.

That is what infertility does. It replaces when with if. When thinks you can get pregnant easily just like everyone else. When doesn't even acknowledge the fact that for some people, it just doesn't happen. When often has a sense of personal control over the situation. 18 months ago I thought that when I got off birth control I would get pregnant fairly quickly. I would say things like, "This time next year, when we have a baby, it will be so fun to shop for Christmas!" I feel foolish for being so presumptuous. 

But now I'm living in the world of if. Ironically, the common abbreviation for infertility is IF. And IF just about sums it up. If doesn't know what will happen. If leaves room for the negative or positive outcome. If thinks that using the word when would be naively hopeful and closed-minded to life's unexpected turns.

I wish I could have chosen another way to learn about the world of if without having to experience infertility, but regardless, I am trying to be thankful. I think it's better living in the world of if. I'm letting go of control, knowing that I can't plan every detail of our lives. I'm slowly learning what it means to submit to God's will even when His will is the exact opposite of what I would choose for myself. I hope that living in the world of if will open my eyes to be thankful when good things to happen. I hope it teaches me not to have an attitude of entitlement.

____________