8:23 PM

Epiphany

So, when Hubby and I first started trying to get pregnant, every month was this new adventure that we started full of hope and excitement and optimism. We visited our baby niece, born a month after we started trying, and felt so giddy at the idea of having our own little one. We talked school systems and nurseries and minivans.

But then we didn't get pregnant. And didn't get pregnant. And still didn't get pregnant.

Then my sister-in-law announced she was pregnant again in September. And I got diagnosed with PCOS in November. And in February, I determined I wasn't even ovulating.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, the hope and excitement and optimism turned into discouragement and negativity and frustration. I still can't pinpoint where that turning point was. I think it was just a buildup of emotions, and I was bottling it all up.

So finally, I realized what a heinous bitch I'd turned into. I was moody and temperamental all the time. I would slip into a funk for no apparent reason. And I hated what I'd turned into.

So I prayed about it. I read books about dealing with infertility. And nothing changed. I kept waiting for everything to turn around and bring that hope and optimism back.

Have you ever been to a church retreat or camp, and had something just resonate with you? Where you go home, but ride that emotional high for days after? I've always called that the "mountaintop feeling". I kept waiting for that moment of clarity, that epiphany where I realized that everything really would be okay, one way or another.

That epiphany didn't come.
I had a mini-breakdown instead.

So I spilled all my thoughts and fears to Hubby. Finally. I didn't know where to start, but by God, once I did I couldn't stop.

I told him about how I keep waiting to turn that corner and make it back into the light. I told him how I feel jealous of my sister-in-law for having two babies since we started trying. I told him how anytime I get jealous, I automatically feel intensely guilty. I told him how sometimes I feel like I don't put enough faith in God, and I worry that whenever I start feeling down or impatient, I'm not trusting in His timing. I told him about how I tried not him with my worries, because I didn't want him to worry about me.

So I cried and talked and cried some more for a couple of hours. And it felt good to finally talk to Hubby about it all.

But I still didn't feel that epiphany.

But the slump never came back, either. Even with BFN after BFN. Even after a round of Provera to get AF to come around. Even after my first 5-day round of Clomid. One month now, and I haven't gone back to what Hubby affectionately calls "the dark side".

Not to say that I've turned into Suzy Sunshine all of a sudden, but I have a renewed sense of peace, knowing that I'm doing what I can right now, and things will happen when they happen. So there's no use worrying about it.

I just keep reminding myself: God is not doing this to us, He's doing this for us.

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