"Ju gotta be startin with the wo-man in da mirror Dogger"

I often imagine myself handling "things" well and then "things" happen and it turns out it's a lot harder than it looked like.

 I think that's a pretty accurate description of my initial struggle with infertility. I just assumed, as we so often do, that I'd get pregnant in a few months tops and we'd have a family.  Lots of things in my life felt temporary because I thought I'd be a mom soon; my job, relationship with co-workers, etc... And then nothing. Every month, nothing.  I cried, a lot. And then one month we thought maybe...but all negatives.  So we went to the doctor, who knew, maybe we just needed a more accurate test. Accurate test, check, pregnacy, negative. Then you just find out that something's wrong with you so buckle up for loads of tests and drugs.  All of it making it nearly impossible not to think of pregnancy and babies everyday if not constantly.  I went through phases of numbness, anger and sadness. "What is so wrong with us having a baby?" I thought.  Everywhere I turned someone was pregnant or had a baby in their arms or stroller or shopping cart.  "Can we please just leave Rexburg?" I frequently asked Kevin.  I was so sad so much of the time.  It was awful.  On top of all the sadness I felt tremendous gulit; guilt for not being more faithful and hopeful, guilt for envying others, guilt for my seeming failure at "handling" it.

I really can't pinpoint the exact instant my turn-around started. Having a friend going through a similar situation helped, someone to talk to who knew what I was feeling.  Finding out that a lot of what I was feeling was natural, that I wasn't alone.  Kevin was and is my rock, sitting up with me at night when I couldn't sleep because I was crying too much, being an incredible optimist and helping me to remember what I knew of our Heavenly Father's character and love.  I learned how to pray more for ability to endure and greater perspective rather than for God to change His will and plan.  And slowly and very catiously I tried to let people in again and allow myself to love those I could have around me even if I couldn't have my own children.  I tried to stop segregating myself literally and emotionally from people who did have children in spite of my apprehension and frequent lack of desire.  (misery loves company my mom always told me)  I started praying to know what I was supposed to do with this time I didn't think I'd have.  So much easier said than done, but gradually the pain did become less constant. I started feeling genuine happiness for people with children or those expecting.  I began trying to channel the love and energy I had for our future children into other relationships; with Kevin, my family (especially nieces and nephew) and friends.  Kevin and I realized that we had So much to work on to prepare for parethood and started trying to take better advantage of the "extra" time we had to prepare.  I realized that I needed to stop putting my life on hold waiting for a baby to come.  I also realized that I needed to be working in something that I loved rather than in a "time-filler" job.  I also realized that I needed to have a better attitude about my current job since the hardest thing wasn't actually the work, it was not being a mom.  I realized that I had let my personal struggles effect the way that I interacted with everyone else.  I realized that I wasn't looking for the good as much as I should, I was often judgmental and impatient.  I started trying to "make peace" with everyone including myself.  I decided to go back to school, and for the first time since I got married I was excited about something.  Then, we found out that doctor visits and procedures were no longer covered by our insurance. 

I came home from the doctor's that day crushed and confused.  As we were talking it out, Kevin mentioned that his mom asked if we'd looked into adoption through any agencies other than LDS family services. (I had mis-read their info and thought that we wouldn't be eligible to apply until our 3rd anniversary) Several months prior Kevin and I had talked about adoption  but concluded that most agencies just weren't in a price range we could possibly afford right now.

I had always been apprehensive about adoption for the same reasons a lot of people are.  Will the child love you?  What would it be like raising a child that isn't "blood"? In a conversation with my mom I had been expressing my fears and concerns and she said, "what if someone needs you?"  I'd never thought about it that way, my perspective had been selfish, fearful and uninformed. (I mean no offense, I realize adoption isn't right for everyone.)  Well, after the doctor's visit Kevin and I checked LDS family services' website again, just to get some general info and found out that we'd actually be eligible this May. With our decision to adopt came the first feeling of complete peace without sadness in a long time. 

I don't profess to have perfected the ability to "handle" things.  There are still hard days.  And sad days.  But there is also hope, a hope of someday having children.  Hopefully soon, but I don't try to predict things anymore either. There's also happiness, geniune happiness now, even though we don't have any children yet and we still desperately want to.

What I want people going through infertility (or any trial for that matter) to know is that there Is hope, God Does love us, even when that means making us wait for the righteous and good things we want very most. Believe that God wants you to be happy and try to stop equating His love with getting what you want when you want it, maybe you've mastered that but I sure haven't.  We found our answer and direction in pursuing adoption and moving forward with our personal improvement, who knows what may come in our future. 

My brother Scott and I speak in a "valley girl" accent he picked up courtesy of a mission companion. One of his favorite lines is his own rendition of the Michael Jackson classic, "Man In the Mirror".  "Ju gotta be startin with da wo-man in the mirror Dogger", he frequently says to me. (Dogger is a nickname he has for me) Rather amusing. But in all seriousness, we can't control most of what happens to us in life but we Are happiest when we focus on the "man (or woman) in the mirror" and change and be changed for the better by our experiences. That's my life lesson #1 from infertility.