Wednesday, July 15, 2009


I am restless today. It's hard to concentrate, and the paperwork that has already engulfed my desk looks like it wants to swallow me too. I've hit a wall; all I want to do is take a nap.

The weather isn't helping. We've gone from yesterday's bright, summery skies to an overcast ceiling that threatens to collapse in a heap of rain at any moment. And maybe I am a little bit depressed - yet another friend had a baby last week.

Infertility is isolating. I miss my "old" life. I miss going to C's softball games. I miss hanging out with our friends. I miss our old church, where we knew lots of people and had a history. I miss being happy.

Then I remember the last time I went to a softball game, when I hid in the car and cried because I was the only married woman in the stands without a baby, and because people asked hurtful questions. I remember sitting in our living room while our "friends" gushed for hours about the news of their pregnancy. I remember sharing the news of our diagnosis with our home group, and no one knowing how to act around us anymore. I remember the couple in our home group who told everyone they were pregnant except us. I remember the pastor who led the home group wanting us to leave because we made everyone uncomfortable. (He didn't say it in those words, but that was the bottom line.) I remember dreading church on Sunday, because I didn't want to see him. I remember putting our wedding pictures away, because I felt so betrayed. (He was the pastor who married us.)

And as I remember the pain of all these things, I know that happiness is a long way off. Someone in my infertility support group once told me that she "didn't feel well" for years. That resonates with me today. I don't feel well. Physically, emotionally, spiritually: I just don't feel well. And while I know that joy exists independent of circumstance - that joy and sorrow can occupy the same space without displacing each other - I miss being happy. I miss feeling good.


Hillary said...

I am so sorry about the pastor and home group...and that they couldn't just walk with you in your suffering. :( I'm sorry.

A well-known couple in our church (elders) lost their teenage son to suicide a few years ago, and it was so heartbreaking and tragic. Of course, they are still reeling from it and I know often have trouble connecting with the church body...people don't know what to say, and they feel like they are in such a different place than everyone. I think our church as a whole has learned so much about just walking with people who are hurting through their loss...

Sorry that got so long, but my heart just broke for you and how isolated you felt in your church community :(

Thinking of you.

Kim H. said...

I can't believe that someone at your church would treat you that way. I mean honestly - that is soooo opposite of everything that is Christian... GEEZ! I can't blame you for feeling betrayed - the very person that should have been loving, supportive, and prayerful about your situation... rejected you.

That is just wrong. He will answer for that someday...

Stay strong - I know some days are tough... BELIEVE ME... I know... but we're not alone in this.