Infertility is gradual.  For a lack of a better explanation, let me draw this out. With a cancer diagnosis, your whole life is flipped upside down in the matter of a few words. Words like “remission” and “relapse” make a timeline so definite and concrete. But with us, we didn’t walk out of a doctor appointment with a label of “INFERTILE” or with the flip of a switch, did we become “warriors” with an army behind us like other sick patients. We received small bad news, one at a time. First, me. Then, John’s results.

I never set out to be that girl that talks about infertility. In the first year of our journey (you know, the year that doctors arbitrarily dubbed as significant before you seek any medical help)  I was surrounded by baby showers, birth announcements and first birthday parties while we continued to have negative pregnancy tests and began learning words like ovulation and Clomid. It’s different, not easier or tougher, just different than other medical issues because of the blurry lines and social stigmas associated with reproduction.

My doctor wasn’t open to discussing our family planning difficulties until at least 10 months of “actively trying” and then nonchalantly wrote a prescription for Clomid after I worked up the courage to mention it to her. No directions other than to take the pill from Day 3 – Day 7 and prepare yourself for twins. {enter eye roll..if only it were that easy.}

I had no idea what I was doing in the beginning because I wasn’t diagnosed with anything. Again, with other medical diagnoses, you work with a doctor to begin a treatment plan and practice saying things like “oncologist” and “I have cancer” in the mirror as they become everyday jargon in your newfound life as a fighter.

Infertility, you slowly go through each day as you reluctantly begin to wrap your mind around a potential problem and when you finally Google it, you immediately close it and think, “IVF? That’s for desperate people that have real, serious issues. Not for me. We’ll never have to do THAT.”  It’s tough to let people into the most intimate part of a relationship and as a woman, it’s impossible to accept that maybe, just maybe, you won’t be able to give your husband a child that your body was made to do.

It’s easy to not acknowledge a fertility issue if you don’t have a diagnosis.

It may be easier to go through life being numb, but it’s a lot better to feel.  Singing praises when you’re happy and praying when you’re sad make more sense to me than never smiling just so you don’t have to sometimes cry.

Are you scared to take the next step in your infertility journey because you keep getting bad results and you feel like you’re too exhausted to continue? Guess what? You are exhausted, and it’s okay to be scared. But you’re not going to fix the problem, and you’re not going to fill the baby shaped hole in your heart by pretending it’s not there.

God made you strong and He made you human. If you think you can’t, remember that He can. Romans 12:2 says, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

I never dreamt that God would use little ol me to be a part of other people’s beautiful stories of becoming parents. How did He know, well before I knew, that my heart was yearning to be filled by something I didn’t even know existed of infertility? 1 in 8 couples struggle with infertility which means a lot of people don’t talk about it.

So, why do I talk about it?

Because I can. Because I know what life looks like to question God and not understand what He’s doing. Because my plan was to get pregnant. But His plan? His plan for me was to open my heart to a gift that only He can give. It’s so much more than becoming pregnant, it’s about growing this deep relationship with my Father. It’s so much more than receiving a gift, but getting to know the Giver.

Because even in the midst of dark days, I have a Heavenly Father that I can talk to that provides more light in my life than any silence ever could.

Because I learned in the midst of my suffering, that I am strong. And so are you.

Because I felt misunderstood and alone. But when I found that there are other women like me, I knew I was exactly where He wanted me to be. Vulnerable, scared but ready to see the beauty only He can make from ashes.

Being vulnerable and transparent about our journey through infertility has made our struggles a blessing to me. I cannot help but feel excitement for women beginning their long road ahead because the ways God is preparing to make Himself seen through her is the most beautiful birth of all.