The Fight Is Real

I suppose I should clarify something. I’m not trying to fight AGAINST infertility (anymore). Instead, I’m fighting my way THROUGH it.

In case you don’t know what infertility is, Resolve (The National Infertility Association) has defined it as:

“The inability to conceive or carry a pregnancy to term after 12 months of trying to conceive. If you are over the age of 35, the time of trying to conceive is reduced to 6 months.” (Source)

Sometimes I wonder what you call it when you tried for eight years, had three miscarriages, and a few surgeries. Then I remember. It’s called “My Life.”

In the beginning, I fought against it. I got angry and bitter and cried, a lot. I got jealous and more bitter and had tantrums. I threatened, screamed at, and blamed God. I would see teenagers pushing their babies in strollers on their way to high school and yell, “How come she gets one and I don’t? We could offer two parents, a nice home, a promising future. Why did you give it to her?”

Ok, let’s be honest. Sometimes I still wonder why she gets one and I don’t, but I’ve learned (the hard way) to let the rest of the judgement go. All I see is a girl pushing a stroller down the street. Maybe she’s a nanny and she’s older than she looks. Perhaps it’s not her child but her baby sister and all her family can afford is the day-care offered at the school. Maybe the baby’s father is still a part of the family and that baby does have two parents. Perhaps that teen-aged mother is the valedictorian of her class and will be able to give that child a bright future. All I see is a girl and a baby, that might not even be hers. I’ve had to learn to let the rest of it go.

Here’s the thing. We all have struggles. Because we’re all different, our struggles are different. While I may be struggling to have a child, she may be struggling because she has a child. I think I would trade, but could I handle it? Or was it given to her because she can handle it better than I could?

I’m not wondering about whether or not I could handle being a mother. What I’m saying is that we’re not given more than we can handle (1 Corinthians 10:13), but that means that we need to figure out a way to be able to handle the things we are given, and because we’re all different, the things that we’re given will also be different. We shouldn’t judge each other based on how we handle the things we’re given, and we need to be careful on how we judge ourselves.

I love this quote I found on Pinterest:

Some days are better than others and you shouldn’t expect perfection from yourself everyday.

An old friend once said to me, “It’s OK to have a pity potty, but at some point you have to get up and flush.” Don’t wallow in self-pity. There’s something out there you can do, something that will make a difference. Find it, whatever and wherever it is, and get busy. Our struggles seem smaller when we’re trying to help others.