“But in my distress I cried out to the Lord; yes, I prayed to my God for help. He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry to him reached his ears.” Psalm 18:6
I am in this perpetual state of “figuring life/myself out.” Remember this post about being grateful? Yeah, still working on that. Disappointment and jealousy when a friend becomes pregnant? That too. I’m also trying to craft a non-emotionally charged answer to questions like, “Ohh, so when are you going to begin having little ones?” Believe me, if I had the control (Maybe it’s good that I don’t always have the control) they would be here.
I am weak in the flesh.
I’ve never blamed God for my infertility. I believe he’s crying right along side me, but the days are long.
A couple of weeks ago, I took a “personal” day. I wore my new overalls, browsed Ulta (maybe not just browsed 😉 ), bought chocolate from Trader Joe’s, and enjoyed an iced coffee. This also happened to be the day I went to my doctor to get a referral for an infertility specialist.
Back in January, we were put on a sex schedule (Can I say sex schedule on the internet? Well, I just did.). I was instructed to come back in four months if I still wasn’t pregnant. I’m still not sure if now is the right time to start official treatments; the time, money, energy, planning, it’s all a lot to consider. One part of me wants to settle in to our situation… relax, let God’s “timing” take over, but another part wonders if God is saying, “Hey, remember science? It’s ok to seek help.”
In the past, when I’ve dealt with disappointment I would cope by downplaying my own ability or claiming I never really wanted that thing in the first place. It’s a total cop-out. It’s challenging to admit, not only to yourself but also to the world, that what you set out to achieve didn’t work out as planned.
I thought a lot (while drinking my iced coffee) about redirection. I had a direction…a plan for my life and while this road isn’t something I bargained for… I am on it and gosh darn it, I want to enjoy the life I’ve been given.
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