Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Behind These Doors

It's true that we often do not know what lies beneath or what goes on behind closed doors. Every person is fighting some kind of battle or struggling in some way. How often we pass them by without even a glance. We assume that all is well and each person is thriving, until we hear differently.

The same goes on here, in the land of Blogville. So easy is it to encourage another, praise them in their achievements and pray for them in their trials. But most often, it's much easier to portray a picture-perfect lifestyle and life free of pain and struggle. When I read the heart-felt, honest posts of another blogging wife and mom, my heart goes out to them. I know how very difficult it is to be brutally honest, even if you are virtual 'strangers' on the other side of a computer screen. It's difficult to do since, well then I'd have to admit after all that I am not perfect, have the perfect family nor lead a completely perfect life. It's easy enough to fill in my posts with the beauty of it all and a chuckle or two, but it's the hurting, honest ones that are tricky.

If you've read here for any length of time, you know that occasionally those heart wrenching posts do show up and most often they center around the same theme:my infertility. I do not write them for pity or even for you to acknowledge my pain, but I write them so that you see what the face of infertility looks like. And today, I am reminded that it looks like me. Perhaps it does serve as more of an outlet for me to share what I cannot even verbalize if we were to meet face to face. Most often infertility wears a mask and it's one of smiles and sunshine, while hiding the deep pain that we carry around in our aching hearts.

Had I ever had the chance to choose my cross, this would not have been the one I would've chosen for myself. But then, would any of use choose pain for ourselves if it did not help us to gain eternity in heaven? Fertility is a gift and I made an assumption that if you had it when you were twenty, you'd have it until you were forty. Today I am reminded that I do not have that gift fully within my grasp every month and pregnancy may never come to me with ease again. And I have to learn to be okay with that. One day. Probably not today.

I spent a lot of time in the early hours of this morning contemplating again an unknown future and unknown fertility. After dealing with the infertility for over three years, you'd probably think that with each cycle it gets easier or that you just press on toward the next. And most often, your logical mind prepares you and makes you do these. But then there are cycles where I just can't help but hope a little more than usual, being aware of every ache, sickness and symptom that leans toward feeling like pregnancy. With each day I pray to make it through 'just one more day' to get me further along in my cycle to indicate that we had finally achieved a positive.

All of that comes to a halt when there is evidence to the contrary. I cannot help but try and guard my heart and my head in order to keep me from despair. I am raw with heartache and feel as though I dare not even go beyond the surface of my emotions, so afraid of the complete grief that will consume me. But I rest today knowing that tomorrow comes with new grace, new hope. I also rest today because in those early morning hours, my husband felt my pain and sadness and consoled me by praying a rosary for healing and comfort for me as I wept. He also knew that today I needed him and to rest from the daily duties of being mommy and he stayed home from work. Such a wonderful man he is, that one.

Yesterday, words from a song that I learned as a teen suddenly rang in my ears:

They that wait upon the Lord
shall renew their strength.
They shall mount up with wings
as eagles.
They shall run and not grow weary,
they shall walk and not faint.
Teach me Lord, Teach me Lord,
to wait.

And today I understand why I was being reassured with those words. I will continue to wait. I will continue to hope. I cannot help but eagerly anticipate what may be just around the next corner waiting for me.


  1. dear Sarah,
    thanks for sharing this with us. God ways are mysterious and we are sometimes sadened without knowing why. Sometimes I wonder what is the point in our sufferings.. but i know the peace of God is beyond all understanding.
    I hope to have a child someday too. :) But I'm confident God will show me a way to fill my empty arms.
    I hope when day I get the faith of St Therese and Fracis of Assisi, who found their happiness in obeying Him. I would love things to go my way, but for now I have to trust His way is best.. even through heartaches.
    Prayers for you today.
    Take care.

  2. Oh, Sarah, I wish I could give you a hug and make you a cup of tea.

    Your husband is awesome to stay home to let you rest and offer up a Rosary for you, what faith!!

    When I was little, I read a poem about a boy who was carrying a big cross. (I'm paraphrasing here) He asked God to give him a smaller cross, and God told him to go to the closet full of crosses and pick whichever one he wanted.

    So the boy opened the closet door, layed down his cross, and searched for the smallest cross he could find. He finally found the smallest one, and God said "That was the Cross you've been carrying all along"

    So sometimes, when we feel like our crosses are just too difficult, too big, too hard, we should remember that God has given us the smallest ones He could to win our Salvation.

    Lots of love and prayers to you, Sarah :)

  3. Oh, Sarah, my heart goes out to you. Such a beautiful post, through the pain and heartache, I can see you are still hopeful and trusting in God, which is beautiful.

    You know, last night I was thinking about how whenever I post about struggles in life, about life not being the perfect life blogworld can portray it to be, I get the most comments! It's not that people like to see others struggle, I think it makes our lives more real to readers. I just know it feels so good to get our feelings out there.

    I'll continue to pray for you, especially today, and beg for the Archangel's protection and strength for you!

  4. Sarah-I am so sorry for what you are going through. I have PCOS, and we have had struggles with getting pregnant as well. Each of my children are a miracle in my eyes because by rights, I never should have gotten pregnant. I will pray for you! God Bless!

  5. My prayers and thoughts are with you today, dear friend.

    Thanks for sharing such a beautiful post.

  6. You know what I think? I think you are incredible. You suffer long with such poise and grace. My own struggle being basically identical to yours, I know you know, but I have not suffered so gracefully.

    My response is kind of more temper-tantrumish.

    Man, I just feel your pain. And I am suffering deeply now myself, so every tear will be a reminder to pray for your sweet heart also.

  7. Thanks for being so honest for us, your readers. It is really refreshing to read about secondary infertility, as I have had many of the same thoughts and sadness.
    Today marks an official one year of hoping for a second child--my husband returned from his deployment in Iraq a year ago! :)

    Prayers for you....

  8. I love you, my friend, and think of you often. You bear a heavy cross, and I pray that the love of your family and friends makes it at least a tiny bit easier to bear.

  9. Thank you ladies! I cannot tell you how often your words of encouragement blessed me the other day. Thank you for your heartfelt prayers. Like I mentioned, it's difficult to bear yourself for all to see/read, but sometimes it's needed in order to make sense out of everything. It is also comforting knowing that so many are gathering around you in thought and prayer, that you can't help but cheer up real soon. I'm looking ahead now and ready for a cycle or two 'off' to re-evaluate and take a little break. Then we'll see what else God has in store!

  10. Sarah, I wish I knew what to say. I wish I had the right words to ease your pain and disappointment. I've had a tab with your post open on my computer for days now, thinking about you and your cross.

    I do know what is like to desire something good and ask God for it and pray for it but not have it happen. Sometimes it doesn't make any sense why God wouldn't clear the way for a good and holy wish. I only trust that God has a better plan in store than what I can dream up myself. Or that what my heart desires will eventually happen, on God's time.

    Our crosses take many forms. I am just sorry that yours is so cyclic - with a once a month reminder. I am also sorry if you deal with any worries about what others think - fitting in to the contraceptive world with two children but possibly looked on with suspicion by faithful Catholics. It must be a difficult place to be in if you feel like you have to explain yourself.

    You are in my thoughts and prayers, Sarah.


You're so kind for dropping me a line!

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