One of my friends texted me that it has been exactly 3 months since my last blog post… And that was several months ago…
I tend to go through blogging dry spells whenever there are negative things going on in my life. I feel inauthentic when I’m in these dry spells, because I’m only sharing the pretty, sparkly, wonderful parts of my life. Painting this picture that all I do is go on vacation and watch pretty sunsets and bake cookies and drink coffee.
I think so many of us are guilty of this – sharing the best parts. The pictures of kids smiling – not the melt downs. Posts about celebrating success – not the work and stress that went into achieving that milestone. Pictures of perfect relationships – and not the work, fights, tears that went into building that bond. And can we really be blamed? Who wants to the world to know about our dirty laundry?
But that “other” part – the unshared part – that is what’s real, raw, vulnerable, deep. That’s where we make real connection with others. That’s where God moves mountains; saves us, transforms us.
I’ve felt convicted lately to step out into my vulnerability. To own and share all parts of my life – not just the pretty. And hopefully, through that, God can work.
Real life is messy. And complicated. And overwhelming. It’s tears, and stress, and not knowing how you’re going to get it done, and spilled coffee, and dog hair. Oh, the dog hair everywhere.
And for me, real life right now is infertility. It’s been several months (about since my last blog post) since we got the confirmation of what we had suspected for years. I wouldn’t say I handled it well. At all. I’ve gone through every negative feeling out there. Twice. And then maybe once more.
By holding onto this, I’ve let it rob me of so much.
For months, it robbed me of any hope and optimism. With each piece of bad news, it is easier and easier to sink into the Mind Spiral of the Worst Case Scenario. WebMD didn’t help with that either, I might add.
It has interfered with my friendships and relationships with family. So many people have reached out and offered support – but I just didn’t (don’t?) know how to accept it. In one moment I am so desperate to talk about things, and in the next I am resentful that someone wants me to talk about it. That’s not fair, to anyone.
I’ve let it rob me of the chance to connect with others who are going through or have gone through the same struggle. Through my experiences so far, I’ve learned that so many women face infertility. It’s not a lonely battle – even though that’s exactly what it feels like when you’re in the middle of it. Why is this such a hush hush topic? Why do we not feely share it? Why do we condemn our sisters to silently struggle after us?
I’m by no means at the end of this journey. I’m still standing right in the middle, with no clear picture of how things will progress. I definitely know I’m still in for a whole lot of “real life” and all of it’s complications and mess.
But, I hope to do a better job of sharing that real life.
I hope to accept support and to connect and to repair relationships.
I hope to have hope.
But one thing is certain – I’m not holding onto this anymore. It is God’s now – and His opportunity to move mountains, to save, and to transform.