A long time ago, a pastor said in a sermon that your waves are your waves. Other people’s waves might look bigger but your waves are big to you and you shouldn’t try to minimize them. That has stuck with me, especially in infertility. There will always be the woman who has done IVF twenty times and failed. There will always be a woman who tried for thirty years unsuccessfully. There will always be a woman who lost a baby to cancer. It taught me not to compare pain because pain is pain. It also taught me to look past the “I’m fine,” facade because at the end of the day, one thing is true.
Nurture – noun
the process of caring for and encouraging the growth or development of someone or something.
As long as I’ve been married, home has been my happy place and doing things to take care of my family is the work that I love… but I’ve always gone back to “I have to do something else because I don’t have kids”. For some reason, nurturing equals kids in my brain as I think it does for lots of other people. It took several years of infertility to even grasp the mentality that just my husband and I are a family. It took years after that to reach the idea that that family, consisting of him, me and the cat, are worthy of nurturing.
I was talking to another member of our Yet We Thrive team who is also a dear friend and fellow infertility warrior. She is so good at speaking the truth in love and usually says just what I needed to hear. She was the one that reminded me of something very important.
In my seven years of infertility, I’ve heard it all. “Just relax. Go to this doctor. Have you thought about adopting? Have you thought about IVF? You’re next! I just know it’ll happen. My friend was diagnosed infertile and (insert long story about yet another person getting their baby here)”. We know that all these words of advice and assumptions are meant well, but they really aren’t helpful. The track we hear in our head over and over “But what if….” What if it doesn’t happen? In infertility, we do not live with guarantees.