Life is a
journey, and one of the most memorable stretches on this journey for a woman is
the path to motherhood. Whether it was
planned or unplanned, I’d dare say every woman who has could pinpoint the time
when she first stepped foot on this path.
It’s a defining moment and once you’ve taken the first step, there’s no
turning back.
I’ll never forget
the days when Brent and I first decided we were ready to start our family. I just knew that was all it would take- a
decision- and I walked around for weeks feeling like I was carrying a huge,
wonderful secret that would change everything about who I was (who we were) in
a matter of months. Soon, it began to
feel more like a joke than a secret, but nevertheless, I still remember the
feeling I had those giddy weeks when I thought we were on the brink of
parenthood.
For many women,
that decision is all it takes. Within
months, or in some cases, a couple of years, their dream is realized and
they’ve navigated this part of the journey we call life. They’re in the “mom club.” For others of us, it’s much more complicated
than that. There are roadblocks then
detours, and sometimes, even after new directions, a dead-end. Most see this dead-end as more of a fork in
the road. When all efforts have been
exhausted, society says you have two choices: IVF or adopt.
Being the
over-thinkers that we are, Brent and I had discussed what we would do “if we
couldn’t have kids” years before we started trying. I’d say most people have that discussion at
some point during their courtship; in fact, we would probably say it's
irresponsible NOT to have that talk with someone you’re planning to spend the
rest of your life with. I’m here to tell
you this: that talk is worthless before the fact. Brent may as well have had that talk with a
stranger on the street for all the ways this journey has changed me. You won’t know until (God forbid) you’re there.
In light of my
experiences the last few years, I would never, ever judge anyone for any
decision they make when it comes to having children- naturally, with medical
assistance, or through adoption. When I
first realized I couldn’t get pregnant, I would have gladly signed up for a
rendezvous with an alien on the space station if a doctor had guaranteed me a
healthy baby as a result. I once sobbed
to Brent that I would absolutely sacrifice an arm or a leg in exchange for
getting pregnant. He looked at me like I
was crazy (I probably was), but that’s a man for you. My point is that no one could understand that
desperation unless they’ve been there, and because I have, I would never pass
judgment.
Both because we
do tend to overthink things and because our faith is such an integral part of
this journey for us, Brent and I took it more slowly than most. It was nearly two years before we visited a
fertility specialist and nearly five years before we underwent a round of
IUIs. Due to this slow pace, my
viewpoint on our options has been different than most people in this situation. I’ve had a lot of time to think, to pray, to
grow, and to begin healing… And it’s left me wondering if we’re too limited on
the options we present when it comes to dealing with infertility. Why do most women feel such pressure to move,
to fix it, to race against the clock, and to get to the finish line at all
costs? And is it always worth the cost?
Just as I would
never judge anyone for the decisions they make when it comes to having
children, I would suggest we be less quick to judge those who choose not to
have children, often for reasons those on the outside couldn’t begin to
imagine. For any couple, neither IVF nor
adoption is a simple choice or a guaranteed path to instant happiness, as we
are often tempted to believe. There are
financial burdens, emotional implications, physical challenges, and spiritual considerations to be
taken into account. It’s not all about
the perfect Christmas card photo- it’s about not only your life, but your
spouse’s life, and perhaps most importantly, the life of that baby who quickly
turns into a child that has to be raised, not just a newborn that gets to be
cuddled.
Just because
we’ve prayerfully and carefully decided against IVF and adoption doesn’t mean I
don’t still deeply desire to have a child with Brent. The fear that others may view this decision
as such haunts me. Choosing neither of
these options doesn’t mean I don’t love children or (as I sometimes berate
myself) that I would make a terrible mother.
It simply means that we're not called to further fertility treatments or
adoption. That’s really what it comes
down to for Brent and me: a calling. And
for now, we feel called to a third option, one that few people talk about… We
feel called to just be. Science says
push further, society says find a way, religion says don't give up… But to us,
God says, “just be.” Time and time
again, Brent and I have discussed how we both feel this is Who God is calling
us to be… a couple following after His heart, no matter what.
Sometimes you’ve
pushed far enough and there isn’t a way left you can live with. Giving up on
one dream doesn’t mean giving up on yourself.
Let us not get so caught up in the journey that we forget who we were
when we started. Just be…
