During the first year of trying to conceive, I was able to remain optimistic month after month while Jordan felt the disappointment intensely. I remember her crying at night, “What’s wrong with me?” , “Why can’t I get pregnant?” , “What’s wrong with my body?” I remember praying specifically, “God, whatever the issue is, please let it be me, not Jordan.” I didn’t want her to put the blame on herself. I didn’t want her to feel the pain of being the “cause” of infertility.
For most of my life, Mother’s Day was the special day we finally stopped to celebrate the person who brought us into this world. A mothers’ countless sacrifices deserve an ocean of gratitude and way more days of love and thanks than just one. It was a day for flowers and brunch. A day for making your best homemade creation, because what would mom possibly love more than something made by the hands of her child? It was a joyful day.
Until it wasn’t.
At the intersection of belief and experience, will you trust God’s goodness, or rely on the certainty of your pain?
We had it all planned out. We would get pregnant in September, and have our baby in June, so my teacher-husband could have three months off with our newborn. It was a great plan. It just wasn’t God’s plan.
I was so angry at God. How could he let this happen? We had been trying to conceive for seven years.
So, why does National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) even matter? If you’re part of the 1 in 8 couples affected by infertility like me and my husband, or 1 in 4 hurt by miscarriage and loss, then you understand why.