My Companion

 One of our wedding mass songs was a song called Companions on the Journey that a friend of ours from North Carolina beautifully sang at the conclusion of the mass. 

I have written about this song, and the meaning it holds, before but this week, during Infertility Awareness Week, the lyrics take on a whole new meaning. God knew what He was doing when He brought us together. Even though I am the one unable to bear any more children, Adam has never made me to feel less than, broken, or less of a woman. 

Rather, I bring those feelings upon myself and, through prayer and healing, try to rid myself of these thoughts not based on the truth...as a beloved Daughter of God, my identity lies in who I am and not what I can (or can't) do. 

Back to my Companion though...I have wondered from time to time over these last seven years...had the characters in this story been different, would the former significant others have responded in the same way as Adam? I don't think they would have. Again, God knows best and knew Adam was the best companion of all for His beloved daughter. At no point in the last seven years has Adam ever expressed wishing he had married someone else or wishing I could give him more other than one conversation I can recall during which he expressed sadness over the children we didn't get to have. I thank God everyday for pairing us up and for Adam's ability to love me through it all....the highs and the lows...the peaks and the valleys....the joys and the sorrows. 

Infertility is a shared experience in the couple regardless of which individual is the primary cause or reason as to why it exists. I am so grateful Adam has been there every step of the way and for the patience and wisdom he pours forth during the good times and the bad. 

In honor of the sometimes silent suffering that might occur within the husband's side, I wanted to share, below, Adam's recollection of what unfolded on the night of Charlotte's birthday. Midway through this past week, I shared my Mom's story of her granddaughter's arrival. Today, on the last day of this week set aside to shine light on the darkness infertility can cast in one's life, I wanted to highlight my faithful companion's story. 

Thank you, Lord, for hand selecting the best man for this earthly task of accompanying me on this journey. 💕

When the nurses first seemed to realize that there was too much bleeding and this wasn't normal, they wheeled you into the other room to try to see what was causing it. I think they explained to me that they were looking for any part of the placenta that may still be in the uterus even though they thought they got it all out. I could hear you screaming in pain from the room where I was waiting. I had messaged your parents what was going on because they had left to go shopping.

Then they came back and said that they needed to do exploratory surgery because they hadn't been able to find out what was wrong. So at this point, I tried not to let any negative thoughts come in and just tried to be confident that they would find the problem and be able to fix it and everything would be ok. Your parents came back in time and we all walked with you as you were being wheeled down to the surgery floor. (A few years later, I was able to find out what it was like to be wheeled down there myself, when I had my CT Scan.) We got to meet the surgery team before going in, which was nice.

Then we waited in the waiting room on that floor while they did the surgery. I called my parents to tell them what was happening. I was talking to my brother, Mark, when the doctor came out of surgery and signaled me to come out into the hall to talk to her. At first it was just me and her. The doctor asked me if we planned on having any more kids. I said we were going to have as many as God wanted to give us. She kind of broke down and said, "Oh my God" and sat down on the low windowsill. Your parents were poking their heads out of the waiting room so I waved them to come over and join us.

Then the doctor told us that they had found a fibroid during the exploratory surgery and that they had to remove it in order to stop the bleeding...And in order to remove it, they would have to remove your entire uterus. So she asked me wanted I wanted to do. I said that there didn't really seem to be a choice to be made: either they removed the uterus and you would live but not be able to have any more children, or they wouldn't remove it and you would bleed to death and still not be able to have any more children. Your parents both agreed. I asked if you knew and the doctor said no. She wanted me to be there when she told you to help you make the decision, because ultimately you had the final decision.

They had to wait for the drugs to wear off from the surgery for you to wake up and I would have to scrub in and wear the medical scrubs, etc. So they took me back and I scrubbed in and put on the scrubs. Then we went into the surgery room and I think you were just waking up, but you seemed very groggy. The doctor explained it to you and I think you have even a better recollection of exactly what was said than I do. I just remember it like a blur. But you agreed to the further surgery and had to sign the paper work. I can't remember if I was there for this or if I just remember you telling me and reconstructed a memory out of it, but the entire surgery team said the Our Father together with us. Then I had to leave and go back to the waiting room again.

I don't remember feeling anything during all this except just worrying that you would be ok, but always trying not to think about it too much and just being sure that it would be ok. Your parents and I were talking in the waiting room but I don't remember about what. They also were on the phone with your siblings on and off to update them. Then finally the doctor came out again and said the surgery was successful and you were being taken to the recovery room and we could see when you woke up. I remember she asked me if I wanted to see the fibroid but I said no. She said something like it was huge. I don't really remember any other details of the conversation.

For me at that time, I just wanted you to be ok. And since then, Charlotte has been such a blessing that I haven't suffered from thinking too much about not being able to have more kids. I don't think about the kids we didn't have except on rare occasion, I just am so thankful for having Charlotte. You and her really are a blessing for me and I don't feel like I need what I don't have. Which isn't to say I didn't want more, or wouldn't want more. I just don't feel like my life is incomplete or lacking anything with what I do have.

Yesterday was the feast day of St. Gianna who was a powerhouse of a MotherScholar. St. Gianna, pray for us! 

Uniting Our Crosses

 This week is set aside to raise awareness about something I wish I could go one day without being aware of at times. Over these last seven years, I have learned that this cross of secondary infertility doesn't truly ever go away...sometimes the weight of it is crushing and I can barely catch my breath. Sometimes it is surprisingly lighter in some days. Most of the time, it is a steady and consistent weight that I shoulder in a nearly resigned fashion trying to carry it with grace. 

Then, there are moments like today, when a little piece splinters off and pricks in a new way. At lunchtime, Charlotte said, "Mommy, you know, God can work miracles and maybe surprise you with a baby in your tummy. Mommy, you have brothers and Daddy has a brother and a sister. If I could pick a baby, I would pick a sister!" How do I foster belief in miracles and with God, all things are possible, when her most often cited prayer for a baby sibling is impossible? 

Yes, every single day, this is an awareness so this week is not one that needs highlighted in my color-coded planner. 😉 When she is a little older, Charlotte will know what the term, secondary infertility, means and we will hopefully prevent the same outcome for her. For now, though, we are officially half way through Infertility Awareness Week now that Wednesday is nearly finished. 

The latest statistics show 1 in 8 couples will struggle to conceive. That is a pretty high number and one difficult to envision given my daily surroundings and community and the seeming perception of being the only ones in our circle. I have wondered if things might feel differently if we lived in a larger city where triangle families are more the norm?

A dear friend is prepping to undergo a hysterectomy soon. Her upcoming surgery, and the time to mentally and physically prepare, has me recalling the way the events unfolded on the night of Charlotte's birthday. Would it have been better to know ahead of time? Would it make things easier now seven years on the other side of it? Here is my mom's perspective of what happened on 03/07/16 written one year after the fact. 

These words from my Mom as she reflected on the life changing events show a different side of infertility...of how life-saving events that result in lasting infertility can also be seen as a blessing. 

I don't know the full purpose as to why things happened the way they did but what I do know is there is no escaping this cross regardless of how it arrived. Jesus did not deserve His cross yet He bore it and accepted it. Who am I to lament and grumble and complain? God has given this specific cross to me and for a purpose. He has also prepared me for this and I can see over these last seven years, the stepping stones that have been provided to help me on my way. 

I hope to inspire Charlotte, and others, to also pick up and carry their own crosses every opportunity they get...no matter what the cause may be. Tonight, when you go to bed, maybe consider that 1 in 8 couple and cover them in prayer. At least for Adam and me, we know the answer and can experience the absolute in that. My heart can't fathom the pain of trying month after month to not have your prayers be answered. If this is you reading these words, know I am offering up my pain to be united on the cross with yours. He knows what He's about...even if we don't. 

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness."

–Lamentations 3:22-23