Isn’t it amazing how music can pierce straight into your soul and express exactly how you feel? There has been so many times over the past ten years of struggling to conceive that a specific song has resonated with me. Songs that have brought me joy or comfort, and songs that have brought me to my knees in tears. There are just those times when I have no words and suddenly a song comes on and it’s like I wrote it myself.
I’m on my church’s worship team and this past weekend we sang a new song. And there was a line in the bridge that really spoke to me. The song is Reckless Love by Cory Ashbury. It talks about the love of God and his continued pursuit of us and what He will do to have a relationship with us. The bridge goes like this:
“There’s no shadow you won’t light up, There’s no mountain you won’t climb up, There’s no wall you won’t kick down, There’s no lie You won’t tear down coming after me”
-There’s no lie you won’t tear down-
When I think back on the beginning years of my struggle to conceive I think about the terrible lie that I believed about myself during that time. A lie that took me deeper into depression, further away from God, and the people that I loved and cared about.
What could this non truth be? What could cause such harm to someone emotionally?
It’s simple- I am unworthy. I am not good enough. I have no worth. I mean, God is in control right? So he must not think I’m worth it. Which this of course leads to a whole slough of other questions like- What kind of God is he anyways? Why would he with hold a child from me and cause me so much pain? Isn’t he kind and loving? And how come I’m not worthy of a child but the drug addict I just took care of the other night just had her fourth?
Oh the hurt and the pain this lie spurred within me.
It seems ridiculous that having a biological/physical problem getting pregnant would have anything to do with my worth. And the very logical scientific part of my brain tried to hold onto that. Unfortunately, the emotional, vulnerable part of who I am just didn’t buy it. Since the beginning of time, having children is where a woman’s value came from. It was horrific if she couldn’t conceive. Throughout time women were shunned, even killed sometimes, if they couldn’t produce a child. So if I lived 1000 years ago then my emotional response would make sense. But this was the 21st century. I was a strong woman with an education and a career. If I was a mom or not didn’t make me valuable. And thank God, that is true. But that didn’t take away from the hurt and pain that I felt every month that I didn’t get pregnant. I mean, this is the one thing that a woman can do that a man will never be able to. And I could’t do it.
Every month that went by I started to believe more and more that I was a failure. There’s this sick cycle that happens during a month, of taking meds and trying to conceive, all while telling yourself it probably won’t work. Followed by the few days before your period of hope that maybe you won’t get it and you’ll be pregnant (but also telling yourself not to get your hopes up). Then maybe the hope gets the better of you and you take a home pregnancy test or maybe you just wait it out. It’s negative or you start and now you are crushed. Crushed.
My spirit was crushed. Every month. You can only endure this for so long before it starts to effect who you are. You can only be a bubbly optimistic person for so long before you start to feel depressed.
I don’t think I’m being overly presumptuous when I say that most women struggling with infertility feel similarly. It’s almost strange how alike most women feel that have struggled to conceive. I have talked with many women who have walked this path in life and pretty much all of them have felt similarly.
So what did I do? What did I do when this pervasive lie that I wasn’t worthy had seeped deep within my soul, so much so that it effected who I was. It had started to eat away at my identity.
I can’t say that I did very much at first. I had kind of checked out spiritually. But thankfully God had not. He was continually pursuing me. Trying to remind me of who He was and who I was in Him. He was not going to let this lie define me anymore. He was going to knock down the walls and tear down the lie until my indenting was in him again. Thank you Lord for your relentless love.
In my next post I’ll lay out what I did to bring myself out of this deep rut that I had gotten into. I’d love to go into it now but I don’t want to just skim over what was really a turning point for me in my faith and in my journey to get pregnant.
I struggle with ending this post like this because it’s pretty heavy. It’s raw but it’s real. Infertility is hard and painful. But there can be joy found in the midst of it and that is what I cannot wait to share with you next time.