[Written 3.27.11]
I am deeply humbled today. I am grateful.
This weekend has been
a rough one. I reached a new depth of sorrow that I didn't think was
possible. Nothing really happened to cause it. Some days infertility
gets the best of me. It turns me ugly. It causes thoughts and doubts and
anger and hate, disbelief, pride, the list goes on.
I realized,
this week, that I have been putting up one heck of a front. I constantly
say "Oh, we're doing ok. There are good days and bad days, but you
caught me on a good day." I constantly tell myself that it's not that
bad. That things could be worse. That I am stronger than this.
But sometimes I just need to feel.
We
are mourning the loss of someone that, in the eyes of others, never was
and could possibly never be. I completely understand why people are
afraid to say anything to me sometimes. I wouldn't know what to say to
me either. I understand.
I sat through sacrament meeting today
with my head down. Tears rolled off my cheeks and made dark spots on my
red dress. I choked through a few words of the opening song. I kept
silent through the rest of it. I sat and cried through the opening
speaker who talked in detail about how the strongest time she's felt the
calming power of the holy ghost was during her pregnancy, emergency
c-section, and first few days of her new daughter's life. I kept my head
down and tried to avoid eye contact with
this sister when she left the chapel to get a drink.
I
whispered to Cam when the next speaker mentioned a lesson we had on
fasting a few weeks ago. The men had a great lesson on the importance of
fasting and the closeness we receive from our Heavenly Father. I
remember that lesson, but a lot differently. The men and women meet
separately in the 3rd hour of our church. The men had that great lesson.
Us women had a lesson on fasting that was completely focused on what we
can do, as women, when we can't fast because we are pregnant or
breastfeeding.
Cam looked at me like I needed an attitude adjustment.
Let's be honest. I did.
But I said, "At least I'm here."
I
sat and felt Cam's arm around me, my hands in his strong hands, and I
felt lucky. I had gathered myself, and the tears had stopped.
Sacrament meeting ended and a sweet, wonderful friend of mine came to talk to me.
I
had texted her earlier this morning asking if she wouldn't mind
teaching the 7-year-olds for me. I had agreed to teach during one of my
extremely convincing fronts of "we're doing just fine. today is a good
day."
She was already teaching another class so she couldn't help
me out, but asked if there was anything else she could do. I left it at
that.
She knelt down by my pew and asked me if I had found anyone else to teach.
I said no.
She put her hand on my knee and asked me if it would be OK for her husband to teach so that I could go home.
And
tears of gratitude poured forth as this beautiful, kind woman was able
to see exactly what I needed when I was going to stubbornly put myself
through more pain than I could handle this weekend. She rubbed my back
and I managed to get out a quiet "thank you."
Cam gave me a hug, an I love you, and the keys to our apartment.
And I walked home with tears streaming down my face.
The tears this time were very different, though. I was so thankful. and humbled.
For
the first time since we found out about our infertility, I found anger
with my Heavenly Father. Surely we have suffered enough through all
this. I felt forgotten. I felt angry. I hated Him for creating our
bodies this way. I hated Him for blessing every single one of my friends
and neighbors with the one thing that we desperately want. And I hated
Him for giving me too much to handle. For breaking me down this way.
And then I listened.
I
am not forgotten. My God, My Heavenly Father, sent an angel to save me
from myself today. He loves me so much that He is giving me this
refiners fire to bring me closer to Him. It gets harder when He needs me
closer to Him. When I feel like I can't do it anymore, He steps in and
lets me know that He is there. That He will never leave me and that He
has given me everything that I need in order to come off conqueror.
And what a blessed day that will be.
I
am so grateful to that sweet friend for being close enough to the
spirit to follow the prompting to help anyway. For not being afraid to
give me what I need even when I deny needing any help at all.
I am not strong.
My God is strong.
He is my strength.
Everything that I do, I do through Him. For without Him, I would have given up completely many, many times.
My God loves me. He loves me enough to give me a husband that lives his life in a way that make God's hand so easy to see.
He knows what I need.
What I have thought I needed is wrong. He knows me and loves me and only has my best interests at heart.
I trust Him.
We trust Him.
For
the first time in a long time, I can honestly say "Everything is going
to be OK." And believe it with every bit of me. For the first time I
don't care what OK means, because my Heavenly Father will protect me. He
is all-powerful and wants nothing more than us to have the greatest
joy. I know that now. If this trial is necessary for me to experience
joy, then I will be ever grateful for a Heavenly Father who loves us enough to watch us go through this deep pain.
It takes a special kind of parent to do that.
It takes a perfect parent.
When
I got home, I noticed a pink envelope on the ottoman. I don't know how I
missed it yesterday, but I opened it and inside was
another piece of fabric for our little one's blanket. Along with the sweetest note. One for baby call, one for me.
Each of the 3 pieces of fabric I have received so far have come at such moments of weakness.
I have been surrounded and buoyed up by angels.
How could I ever doubt my Heavenly Father's love for me?
His love is everywhere.