Adopt-A-Blogger!!!

It's finally May...yay! I am SO EXCITED to receive your prayers this month as Adopt-A-Blogger, part of Amy from This Cross I Embrace's monthly prayer campaign. For more details, please check out her blog! It's amazing!

First of all, I want to say again how honored I am that you have chosen to pray for me! And thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to the person who nominated me…it really does feel like divine intervention, and it has come at the perfect point in my journey to motherhood. 

To allow you to pray for me with more clarity and purpose, I’d like to tell you a little bit about myself. I apologize in advance for the length…I sat down to write, and well, the words just started spilling out (as they often do). For the ‘Cliff Notes version,’ click the links that I have highlighted below :) Or, just skip right to the end…I wouldn’t blame you!

I guess I will begin by saying that, like most, if not all of you, I have wanted to be a mother since I was a little girl. I am the oldest of five children, and, growing up, I loved every minute of the ‘large family dynamic.’ I knew I wanted the same for myself and my own family, some day! One of the greatest ways I was swayed towards motherhood as a child was my family’s unique experience with foster care. My family has housed and cared for thirteen different children throughout my adolescence and young adulthood. I would love to include an overview of our experiences with foster care, but I don’t want to bore you to tears. I am, however, happy to discuss foster care with anyone who is interested. It is a unique and special calling, and I have certainly felt blessed to be a part of it in some small way. One of these days I will write a post about my family’s many experiences, which, suffice to say, have been God-filled and truly incredible.

As a foster sibling, and a ‘regular’ sibling, I always felt both a sibling-AND-maternal love for the children in our home.  I knew, and my beliefs were reinforced from a very young age, that I was happiest when caring for children. I couldn’t wait for the day when I could love and care for my very own children, just as I had always dreamt.

I met Tim in March 2011, and by April 2012 we were engaged. I loved him then, but I never anticipated loving him as much as I do now. Tim was the first man I had ever met who was comfortable discussing his future plans with me…plans for children, a family, a loving home. Early in our relationship, I had a ruptured ovarian cyst that landed me in the ER for severe pain. Before we knew what the problem was, all sorts of awful possibilities ran through my mind—little did I know that Tim was processing the situation in his own way. He told me that, after I had been given the ‘all-clear’ to return home after what they called a ‘fairly normal situation,’ he had found himself toe-to-toe with the possibility that I might someday have complications with my fertility (I thought this was quite a leap at the time—little did I know!). He had had to ask himself if, in a worst case scenario, he could marry a woman that could never give him children. Later that day he told me that he had decided, very quickly, that we would have a family, no matter what.  My heart swelled with gratitude, and pride, and love. Little did I know that his grimly-imagined scenario would become our reality.

Since our wedding, we have miscarried two sweet babies. I knew in my heart of hearts that both were girls. We lost our first baby (Savannah), conceived on our honeymoon, at 6.5 weeks, and our second baby (Anne), after hearing her heart beat for the first time, at 8 weeks this past July. I have never experienced pain like I did on those two fateful days when I learned that my babies were gone. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I was broken, inconsolable. And it felt like I would never be whole again.

I had to lean on my husband for support during this difficult time. He, too, was sad and hurting, but it was a different pain than what I felt, and still feel today. After many tears, and groans, and anger, and pain, we finally came to the same conclusion. We knew that no one could heal us, except for God. And so, we clung to Him, together. We later realized that, while our friends and family could not necessarily understand our pain, they could love us, if we let them. And so, we began to ‘let them.’ After enough time had passed, love—from God, and so many of our brothers and sisters—is what brought us peace. That is also certainly true of my experience with blogging. All of the ladies of this blogosphere are a Godsend, and a daily inspiration. Among other things, blogging has renewed my hope for the future. So many great stories, so much strength, so much faith. And hope, like love, breeds peace.

Of course, clinging to my special saints and my Perfect Mother have also been sources of great comfort for me.  These amazing men and women, most especially Our Lady of Perpetual Consolation, understand suffering like no one else. They also understand what it’s like to cling to God as your world is crashing down around you. I try and try to follow their examples. I fall short in so many ways, every single day, but through God’s grace, I am still trying, and that’s good enough for me.

Since my second loss, I have experienced what is probably best classified as ‘sub-fertility.’ I have had two surgeries this past year—a laparoscopy for endometriosis, and a septum resection—and since those surgeries, I have been unable to conceive. I have gone through two failed rounds of Clomid, and am just wrapping up my third (hopefully NOT failed!). My doctor firmly believes that conception and full-term pregnancy are still possibilities for me—but some days, it is easier to curl up in a ball and deny all traces of hope, than it is to keep going. Doubt and fear make up the worst part of me—a part of me that I did not know existed until this journey began. But I have discovered another part of myself, as well. Strength, bravery, hope, faith. Even though these virtues are only the size of a mustard seed, I can still feel the growth. God has blessed my journey to motherhood in so many ways. Pain will always be part of my life and my story, but it no longer defines me, as it did when I began. He has truly revealed to me that pain is temporary, but love is eternal.

Ladies that have not yet experienced the miracle of pregnancy, or have not yet experienced the joy of matrimony, or have suffered another great loss of dreams; I feel so unworthy to address your pain in any way, but please know of my constant prayers and love. It is hard to compare suffering; every experience, every pain, every heart is different. While I will never equate my suffering to another, I do understand the type of pain that cuts you to your very core. I have been angry with God. I have pushed Him away. I have questioned all of my beliefs, asked the Heavens “why me?”, cursed my very existence. But, through it all, like a patient Father, He has lovingly welcomed me back into His embrace. He only wants to love us, and we only need to let Him. And so, as you pray for me, I will continue to pray for you—that the all-consuming love of God fills your heart, even on your darkest days.

I am so very grateful for the opportunity to connect with you, share with you, pray for you, and more. Thank you, once again, for blessing me with your prayers. It is such a gift to me, and I am so very touched. I promise to never bore you with a post this long ever again (well, maybe I shouldn’t promise). Thanks to all of you who made it to the end. I will leave you with one of my favorite verses; one that has always brought me comfort and peace:

"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." --2 Corinthians 4:16-18

God bless all of you!