An infertile girl...

A few posts ago I mentioned that I was still an infertile girl living in a fertile world. That phrase struck a chord with several fellow bloggers that now have a child. Miss Maddie is now 2 months old and though I thoroughly enjoy my new role as a mother, I still struggle with where I fit in. I will be honest, I was not expecting this. And I am a bit angry that infertility has stolen this from me as well. Yes, I can discuss diaper brands and spitting up with the best of them, but I still feel like I am on the outside looking in. Like I don't fully belong. And it is no one's fault as other mothers treat me as though I am a regular ole fertile woman. But in my heart I know the truth. Conception will never be easy for us. And the past 11 years cannot be erased in 9 short months.

My pastor's wife recently asked me about a friend and if they were ttc yet. Unfortunately I had to tell her that they were having trouble. During the course of this conversation she mentioned that I must have really enjoyed Mother's Day this year and I immediately teared up, but not for reasons she assumed. It was not because I was overcome with joy thinking of Mother's Day, but because the feelings of sadness and inadequacy came flooding back in a rush. She was very kind and listened to me as I explained that though I was very thankful for my miracle baby it will be some time before my bruised heart will fully embrace a day that has been so painful for me for many years. A day that many of my friends still dread.

A part of me hates that infertility is still a part of me, but there are times that I am thankful for it as well. A few weeks ago I attended a bridal shower for a friend that was afraid that she would never marry. We shared the common bond of not belonging. She without a husband, me without a child. During the course of the night she shared her heart. She struggled with being single while watching her friends marry, wondering what God's plan was for her. I am not sure how or why, but I shared a bit of our struggle with infertility and understanding His plan in all of this madness. I thought nothing of this conversation until yesterday. A relative of the bride, someone I had never met, told me that something I had said spoke to her. She then shared of her and her husband's 2 year struggle to conceive. It broke my heart to hear it and I wished that I could make it all go away. But I cannot. What I can do is pray for them and offer a listening ear if ever she needs it. It is at times like this that I am very thankful that I remember what infertility feels like. It gives infertility a reason, a purpose. Without moments like this my struggle was in vain.