'Til the Miracle Comes
As I even start to reflect on the past year and a half and try to put words together, tears are running down my face. My journey might seem short to others in similar situations who are still waiting for their miracle, but I have learned that every journey of infertility is excruciating in its own way.
When my husband and I got married, I was ready for kids that day. He wanted to wait. After many conversations that were getting me nowhere, I figured I would try the “Oh wow! We’re pregnant, oops!” approach and proceeded to stop taking birth control. After only one period, eight negative pregnancy tests, and countless tear-filled nights in nine months, my husband (now ready to start a family as well) asked me to see a doctor. PCOS was the official diagnosis. We went through two rounds of Clomid, but my body did not respond at all. It was emotionally and physically draining, causing many more tears. Everyone around me seemed to be getting pregnant. There were many conversations taking place around me where people would make seemingly “harmless” comments about how fertile they were. I would hold back the tears until I was alone.
After two failed rounds of Clomid, my doctor decided I needed to be transferred to a fertility specialist. Over the course of the next few weeks, our new fertility specialist ran several tests that confirmed my original diagnosis of PCOS. He put a plan in place that would involve changes in some of my medication, ultimately with the goal of being able to perform an IUI - a process where they would take my husband’s semen and directly inject it into my uterus. However, there were several things that needed to take place first. The medication had to induce a period, at which point I would then be able to start my third round of clomid. Fortunately, it all went as planned up to this point. An ultrasound midway through my cycle confirmed the growth of a follicle, and I then received an injection that would force my body to release the egg. Our IUI was set for 36 hours after I received the shot. Unfortunately, a week after the procedure, my hormone levels were tested and they told me to prepare myself for another round. My progesterone levels were looking fairly low, making the probability of pregnancy less likely. After another painfully long week thinking more waiting and heartache was in our future, I took a pregnancy test just to make sure. I couldn’t believe my eyes: We were pregnant!
As I said earlier, our journey might seem short, but to us, it felt like forever. As painful as the journey was, I wouldn’t change it. My husband and I are closer because of it. I have an awareness and compassion for people on similar journeys that I would not have if I hadn’t walked it myself. I am aware of how precious and miraculous every life is whether it is a surprise pregnancy or one that comes after years and years of waiting. Jesus has taught me so much about myself and about His character. He is faithful and He is good even in the midst of suffering. He never left my side during the whole journey. I had to come to a place where He was enough, a place where I would praise Him, even when it hurt more than I could bear. I had to choose to believe that I would be a mom some way or another. Our sweet baby girl’s name is Selah Isabelle. Selah means ‘ to pause or rest’ and Isabelle means ‘God’s promise’. Every time I call her name, I will be reminded to ‘rest in God’s promise’.
For all of you who are currently walking the journey of infertility, hear me say, there is purpose in the pain. Hold on to His promise. Rest in His promise. He will never leave or forsake us.
“Ah, Lord God! It is you who have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and by your outstretched arm! Nothing is too hard for you” Jeremiah 32:17