I’ve written this post a hundred times in my head. Yet, every time I sit down to type it all out, words never seem to do it justice.
Maybe that’s because (to me) this story is so big, so awe-some, that I can’t seem to articulate it correctly. But I am going to sit down and try this again…
Have you ever studied a Monet painting? They are absolutely stunning. His use of colors, and broad strokes – breathtaking.
I feel like our journey through infertility is like a Monet masterpiece.
Take a closer look at the painting. If you look at any singular section, it’s a jumbled, strange looking mess. Nothing is clear. The brush strokes look random – haphazard, almost sloppy and confusing… Step back, and you can see the mastery as a whole.
When I look at each part of our 3+ year journey…. There is so much sadness, disappointment, hurt, ugliness.
I think about the months and months of heartbreak – crying on the bathroom floor, begging God to “just give us a break.”
I think about the one time we saw a positive pregnancy test – only to have it ripped away from us quickly.
I think about the thousands of dollars of tests, and the multiple blood draws week after week that revealed nothing of significance.
I think about the heartbreak of Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Christmas, another passing birthday. Each holiday stung as the years ticked on.
I think about the three rounds (six total) intrauterine inseminations we did – all ending with a big fat negative. I still feel the hurt of our failure two days before Christmas last year.
I think about the baby showers, the birthday parties, the Facebook announcements that simultaneously brought me such joy – but also deep sorrow.
I think about all the weight I gained from being on countless hormone therapy cycles – and the hit it took (and admittedly still does) on my self esteem.
I think about the friends that never knew what to say, so they slowly faded away.
I think about the hours I spent in stirrups at the doctors’ offices.
I think about the injections and pills and the hot flashes, nausea, random rashes, mood swings, hair loss those meds caused.
I think about the surgery and long recovery process.
I think about the times K and I would fight because he didn’t understand what I was going through – and I didn’t understand what HE was going through.
I think about the IVF round that failed and the confusion, anger, hurt, disappointment and depression it led to.
I think about how ANGRY I was that we opted not to test our embryos because the doctor told us it wouldn’t be necessary – and how we weren’t clear if it were the seed or the soil that was the problem. Would our other embryos be bad?
I think about the long days of doubt and uncertainty that we would ever become parents – and the deep heartache those thoughts brought.
Messy, ugly, brush strokes.
All seemed pointless. All seemed damaging.
All seemed so disjointed and so absolutely unnecessary.
WHY. WHY WOULD GOD PUT US THROUGH ALL OF THIS.
Now, I’m slowly seeing it all come into focus. Stepping back and looking at the journey as a whole, rather than brush stroke by ugly, painful brush stroke.
God, the artist and author of the Universe, was in every detail of our journey.
Brush stroke by brush stroke he took our brokenness and created something so beautiful, so awe-some … and only HE could see the painting as a whole during the messiness.
Every single tear. Every single moment filled with confusion and doubt.
Every negative test. Every injection of meds.
Every tinge of jealousy. Every let down.
Step back. Step back. Step back.
Each painful brush stroke led us to today…
Had we not dealt with years of troubles…
Had we not failed all of our IUIs…
Had we not failed our first IVF transfer…
Had we not listened to our doctor when we told us we didn’t need to test our embryos….
All of the heartbreak, tough decisions – led us to the moment we decided to transfer these two specific embryos – in hopes that at least one of them would make it. I don’t think we would have made that decision had we not traveled the hard parts of our journey.
God had written this story long before our journey had ever started. Its clear to me now that we were always meant to have these two precious girls, our precious miracles – it just took us lots of heartache to get to this immense joy – our immeasurably more.
I can see His hand in the relationships we built along the way. I can see how He has grown our marriage. I can see how He broke us to make way for something so beautiful.
We went through this – so we could share our miraculous story… For His Glory, that He may be better known.
And I know, we still have a long way to go with our little ones – but today I’m stepping back and admiring God’s beautiful artwork. And I’m praising Him and His plans and provision. I’m so thankful for all of the ugliness and messiness, because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
So much beauty came from brokenness.
Again, I can’t do this story justice – but it’s been on my heart. I’m so thankful to marvel at this Monet painting.