Monday, January 17, 2011

I will be okay.

As the grief has surrounded me, heavy layer by heavy layer the past couple of years I often wondered what healing would look like some day. First there was the miscarriage that shattered my innocence. Then the miscarriage that was beyond comprehension. And then, months and years of not being able to get pregnant. When I let myself believe that someday I would have a child, I found myself wondering if what the healing would feel like. Would a child in my arms heal all the old wounds? Or would it bring new joy, while the wounds still lingered in the background?

I still can't say I know what to expect, but the healing that has come just in the past month since we started moving towards IVF has been very welcomed indeed. I'm not sure what exactly is bringing about the healing, but finally having a diagnosis that gives us answers, knowing that IVF is our only option and that we aren't moving on to it prematurely, and actually starting the cycle, has me over-the-moon hopeful. I even find myself thinking that if we were to have another miscarriage, I would be able to handle it. Trust me, I am very optimistic about IVF for us, I'm not being a pessimist but I also know that things happen- bad luck happens. There was a time when I truly didn't think I would be able to live through the grief of another miscarriage, but I am feeling a strength and a resilience behind my hope that I haven't known in a long while.

As I sat in worship yesterday at church, I was so overcome with peace and joy. It wasn't the giddy type of joy that makes you want to tell the world, it was the type of joy that had be so absolutely content and whole that I felt a clarity that only happens occasionally. And in the midst of that I found myself being grateful for the strength and the perseverance I have gained from the last three years. It was hard. Brutal. Ugly. Devastating. Beyond comprehension. And yet I have not been broken by it. Sure there were times, much of the time, I only felt darkness and deep despair.

But now, now I can still sing, I still know joy, I am still loved, and I still hope.

That alone has me in awe, that despite all the brokenness, healing does come.

God, my prayer, as we dive into IVF with unyielding hope, is that you never let me forget that you are redeeming all things and always have been. And I will be okay, resting in you.


  1. Oh my gosh, that made me cry. I can relate to that post so much. I'm glad to hear you are hopeful.

  2. I am hoping and praying with you. My motto during my IVF cycles was to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus and take one day at a time. He will see you through.

  3. Best of luck. I am glad you are feeling hopeful and optimistic. Keep a hold of this feeling throughout your cycle. xx