Countless times
the last few years I’ve turned to my husband, tears streaming down my face, and
said, “I can’t fix this.” Oftentimes these meltdowns have centered on
our inability to have a baby. But many
times, my heartache has stretched farther.
Infertility has threatened my self-esteem, my relationships, my sanity,
and my faith. I’d like to say I’ve kept the upper hand, but too often, I’ve let
it defeat me.
Whenever we’re
faced with a difficult situation, we can only hope we’ll handle it with grace
and with dignity. As adults, we know
better than to grovel, to panic, and to self-implode. But the pain can be blinding, the
circumstances overwhelming, and those are the times when our emotions overtake
our intelligence, our maturity, and even our peace with God. I’m a perfectionist, which really just means
I struggle with pride. Once I’ve let
myself slip, I find it hard to find the motivation to even try to improve. I continually battle the feeling that it’s
all or nothing, and if I can’t have it all, I may as well have nothing.
This attitude has
been costly to my quality of life these last few years. While there have been plenty of good days
(the number is ever-increasing and I’m thankful) the bad days have been dark,
hopeless, and biting. Only just recently
I’ve begun to face the truth that my attitude has been damaging not only to
myself but also to those around me. It’s
nobody’s fault what I’ve been through, but I am responsible for the way I’ve
handled it. I wish I had handled it
differently, but the fact is I did the best I could at the time. Forgiving myself means pushing aside my
pride: both admitting I’ve made mistakes and not letting those missteps keep me
from moving forward.
I can’t fix the
damage I’ve done. I can’t go back and
attend baby showers with a genuine smile instead of a fake one. I can’t erase terse, unfeeling texts and
e-mails I’ve sent in response to baby news from well-meaning friends. I can’t unsay the lies I’ve yelled at my
husband as he’s persistently tried to love me through this. I can’t just pretend it’s not awkward with
people I’ve distanced myself from, sometimes on purpose and sometimes before
I’d even realized what I’d done. I can’t
get back the days I’ve wasted not growing in my relationship with God because I
was angry with Him.
The only thing I
have a chance at fixing is the future. I
can celebrate at that next baby shower for what God has given, rather than
resenting what isn’t to be. I can be
genuinely happy for others as their families grow, remembering their journey is
for them and mine is for me. I can let
my husband love me through it all and be thankful for all that we have, instead
of fixating on the one thing we don’t. I
can slowly but surely work to close the gaps I’ve created with my bitterness,
my envy, and my regret. I can do all
this by not wasting another day stagnating in my relationship with God all
because His plan for my life didn’t match mine.
I can’t fix
this. But God can. He specializes in redeeming our mistakes for
His glory. We only have to let Him. Yesterday morning, I noticed a quote in my
Sunday School book that spoke directly to my heart: “Failure
is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.” -Henry Ford
Let us live like we believe it.
Let us live like we believe it.