Whatever holds you in the tomb of darkness, lay it before Jesus and never give up hope.
That's what my priest said during today's homily. I scribbled it in my Magnificat and hope to find strength from that from time-to-time like I did today. I hope others reading can find some peace in it too.
Infertility permeates everything in my life. I seriously wish I could remember what I thought about before we started this journey, because I think about it at least several times an hour. There are times when it does feel like a tomb - a very final, dark place with no one else around. It seals me off from others and from myself, and I don't feel "of this world" where all our friends are parents with totally different priorities than us.
Probably what I'm struggling with the most is handing it over to Jesus and remaining hopeful that this is not the end. Instead of hope, I typically feel a lot of dread that more disappointing, painful news is on the way, and we will have to accept that parenthood wasn't in His plan for us.
My surgery (endometriosis removal and double ovarian wedge resection) is one month from tomorrow, and I'm conflicted. I'm very excited for this next level of treatment, but I'm also terrified that nothing will really change. I've been in this holding period (with no periods) for 18 months, and I really can't imagine anything but more disappointments.
Not only is infertility my tomb, but so is the hesitancy to hope. Most of the great blessings in my life have come from a leap of faith - not knowing what was in store, but trusting that God had led me/us to that moment. May 14th is going to be another huge leap, and all we can do is trust in Him, right?
The best part about this tomb metaphor I've been thinking about all day is that the stone will get pulled back, and there will be light again. What that means in reality, I won't know until later, but there will be light again.
God, I am hesitant to trust this burden to You. Help me to continue to hope and trust in You. I anxiously await the pulling back of the stone, and I will do my best to remain hopeful and trusting in the meantime.
Reading through my blogroll brought me to the cross this family is carrying right now - a beautiful baby with Trisomy 18. Please say a prayer for Baby Rebecca and her family. Beth's ability to trust and find the light in their experience is amazing, and I pray for peace and comfort for the entire family.