Tuesday, April 5, 2016


Post #2 of my infertility series.


I know this topic is emotional for some people, but I felt the need to share snippets of my journey for those going through it or grieving the loss. Whatever our situation, isn't it always nice to know we're not alone.

Although my stories are a reflection of my personal experience, my husband is very much a part of what I share. Yes, women tend to feel it deeper for many different reasons, but I'm not the only one in this relationship grieving the loss of our unmet dreams. Both of us were involved.

Make no mistake, he hurts too, we just handle it differently.

The following is an excerpt from my book in the making:

On the heels of me saying we couldn’t get pregnant I was ready to punch the next person who said, “just relax” as they recounted story after story about someone they knew who conceived because they weren’t trying so hard.

If one more person asked if we were going to adopt, I would scream. And if I had to hear yet another story about somebody who knew somebody who became pregnant after they adopted, as if adopting was the only answer for one’s loss, well, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Probably cry again.


Would you tell a person who recently lost their spouse you have a blind date lined up for them, or a woman who lost her baby, she can have another? 

In the immediacy of the wound, the fact was we were grieving the loss of our own unmet natural dreams. 

Although I wanted to scream, it occurred to me most people felt helpless. Their heart-felt advice that came freely like casseroles at a funeral was their way of offering help and hope to my hurt. 


I learned that there is no formula to how or when one grieves their loss. And when they are ready to forgive the loss, they will choose whether to adopt or to marry. 

The wounds and the choices are personal.

Stressed? Try not to be stressed when fun and intimacy are taken out of what should be fun and intimate with my husband.


When everything I did revolved around my menstrual cycle, which worked like clockwork. When after practicing on oranges, I had to give myself shots in the stomach. CAT scans and MRIs ruled out the possibility of having a tumor on my brain stem. No stress there. In addition to a series of blood tests, I fell into the “small-unexplained-percentage” of infertile women who couldn’t get pregnant.

Every month I was reminded I’m a woman by my cycle. 

Yet every month the lack of conception reminded me I wasn’t a mother. Basal temperature, hormone shots, timed-sex, blood tests, doctor appointments continued.

Aware or not? 

You bet I was stressed!

~end of book excerpt~

Not all blog endings can make everything okay but they can share a piece of their journey. The only way we get through is to go through. If you've gone through a similar experience I feel your pain and your frustration. Depending on where you are at with this, you will either be mad, crying or laughing. After much prayerful time, I've done all three, and depending on the season will do all three again. But thank God for God and for humor!

Disclaimer: I am not against adoption. If you are adopted, or have adopted, thank God for the miracle of you and your child. This is not about adoption. This is about being sensitive in the moment of someone's loss.This is not a soap-box, just simply about awareness. Trust me, I've made my blunders because my heart felt helpless. I truly believe that is where most people are coming from when they offer advice.

Post#1: Infertility: The Hope of Spring
Post#2: Infertility: No Stress Here
Post#3: Infertility: The Empty Mother's Day Womb