I was no stranger to infertility or loss when I married my best friend.
My oldest sister has three precious babies she will not get to hold on this side of grace, and my second oldest sister struggled two years to have her first son… another four to have her second.
I was young when my three sisters were having their babies, or trying to. I finished high schools as nieces and nephews joined our extended family, and then I moved on to finish college. By then I had watched my sister walk a dark and lonely road in her desire for children. I didn’t understand it then… her grief, her longing, the isolation she drew about her as her sisters and friends announced pregnancy after pregnancy.
I remember the way our family used to talk about her struggle… how we decided that if she just relaxed, or spent less time desiring the children that they would simply come. We scratched our heads for a time and then assumed she was simply refusing to ‘get over it’.
I was no stranger to infertility or loss when my husband and I dreamed of growing our family. I was no stranger and yet I still made broad, naïve proclamations about how infertility wouldn’t affect me like that… how I would shrug it off, how it wouldn’t matter.
I didn’t understand then what I know now…
Will you join me over on Held to read the rest? Oh, thank you!