After months of waiting, it was finally the morning of our fertility consult. The consult wasn’t until the afternoon, so my husband and I both went to work that day. The days leading up to the consult, I had done some research on adoption/fostering options just in case. I never really processed the idea that we might not be able to have children together and have to adopt until the morning of our consult. Of course it didn’t hit me before my husband excitedly left for work, or even when I was showering as I did every morning. It’s as if the idea was a leaf, gently falling from a tree, and finally landing right as I was putting the final touches on my makeup. I rarely wear makeup, but today was different. I wanted to look my best and needed some faux confidence for the meeting that afternoon. I guess, in hindsight, I knew I was uneasy, but it didn’t hit me until that moment.
The conversation in my head (while staring at the mirror) went something like this:
- I’m so excited to find out what we can do.
- Finally! Someone to help us know why we haven’t been successful.
- I wonder if they can tell me why we couldn’t carry the first time.
- Wait, what if they tell me I can’t get pregnant?
- What if they tell me I can’t carry a baby full term?
Then the thought “What if they say, we can’t have our own kids?” Wow, that escalated quickly. In that single moment, as quickly as the thought came, I had a flood of tears.
The funny thing was, I didn’t even know I could feel this way. A few months before meeting my husband, I had decided that I wasn’t going to have kids. I wanted to work with orphans and help them, instead of my own children. In fact, I used to pray as a child that I would not have kids. This was actually a prayer I said… repeatedly… to God. I had literally prayed for infertility for many, many years.
In that moment, I finally realized why I had been researching adoption/fostering. Secretly, I was afraid I couldn’t have kids. That I was broken. Something was wrong with me and there was no way for me to now experience my new heart’s sole desire. What a horrible time to actually come to this realization- I was now running late, and I was doing that ugly cry. I mean, real, soulful, deep crying that I didn’t think would ever end. I suddenly felt alone, vulnerable, and it was too quiet outside of my head. I decided to turn on some music to at least numb my brain from thinking so much. I turned on Pandora and the song “I Need You” came on. I found the words to be expressing exactly what I felt in that moment. Lord, I truly need you. I need your wisdom, your guidance, your grace, your mercy, your love. Something reaffirming that he has me in the palm of his hand. There was a line that stuck out to me “When I cannot stand, I’ll fall on you.” I realized in that moment, I couldn’t stand (I was crouched over holding onto my counter- I told you, it was a deep, ugly cry). I found the song and played it 5 more times. The first time I was crying because I needed God. Around the third time, I realized I needed to trust in God. By the end of the fifth time, I wasn’t crying anymore. I was actually praising God for being everything I need. I decided I would just fall on him, and let him carry me through the day. This became one of the songs that I would use (and even my husband who doesn’t listen to Christian music) to get through my infertility journey. Little did I know that this was the beginning of a strengthening of me, my husband, our relationship, and our faith (individually and together). That deep cry became my beautiful beginning.