These articles are a peek into my process of walking through 15 years of trying to have children. Through the highs and lows, I’ve learned a lot. Cried a lot. Prayed a lot. Curled into the arms of my husband a lot. But throughout it all, I discovered there is always beauty waiting to be found. It’s a special kind of beauty reserved for those who face grief. I hope it shines light into your own journey!
I’ve been writing about our infertility journey for a couple of years now and sometimes I am weary of writing about sorrows. I know I will have a story to share that is full of joy and the fulfillment of our promised family.
We normally think of God’s financial provision when we think of Jehovah Jireh, but His provision in our lives comes into any area where there is lack. In the loss of infertility, I have come to know Him as my provider.
Years ago I was having one of those days when this journey with no children, no answers and no change in sight was taking over my entire perspective. I had grown weary of turning to social media for distraction or entertainment only to see several “mom posts,” some of which included laments of their toddler “getting into the piles of folded laundry again” or something. I couldn’t take it anymore.
If you know me, you know I love a good hug. A big part of my love for hugs comes from my dad. He gives the best hugs. In fact, people throughout my life would seek him out for a hug because they felt love from a father that was safe that they never experienced before. The safety in his hugs comes from the fact that he has a pure heart, he’s secure in himself as a man and a father, and therefore exudes purity and security.
When you’re going through something difficult, you want to tap into a source that calms the storm and brings wisdom. This is a practical guide to assist you in learning and practicing hearing God’s voice in your everyday life and when navigating those tough times.
If you’re like me, you may actively avoid anything that comes close to experiencing pain. That includes emotional pain.
Every year, in the fall, I begin to think, “maybe it could be this Christmas.” Our first Christmas with our baby! Through our infertility journey, an increasing shadow has been cast over what is my favorite holiday. While there is still joy and celebration, year after year there is also pain, sadness and an emptiness when it comes to our unfulfilled dreams.
When the shock of starting the adoption process wore off, what replaced it was fear. But I’ve learned to stop living in fear and step into trust
These are the faces of the adoption process- a moment we felt like we were diving into the “deep end” of the pool in this journey. Looking at this photo now, starting our adoption journey was a “yes” of the highest magnitude, a plunge into something that has a profound effect on our life: yet there is oh so much out of our control. Adoption is a massive trust fall of sorts.
