Yikes, it's been a while since I posted.
I think about blogging here all the time, and I've even pulled up the entry screen only to find that I have nothing to say...which is weird considering all the things I used to have to say about infertility. For over 4 years, it seemed that infertility was the one of the few constant things in my life. It was the one hard thing I knew would continue to plague me but hoped against hope would disappear. I truly thought that the only cure was pregnancy. I sit here on the edge of the beginning of our 6th year trying to conceive and sift through my thoughts about this now.
But adoption really changed my constant struggle between hope and despair.
Or, I guess I should say that the Lord really used the adoption of our son to show me that with an eye towards eternity, my barrenness was a lesser issue than I thought. I know it kind of pains you to read a statement like that. A year ago it would have killed me to read that on someone's blog, mostly because in some recess of my heart I knew it was true, but since pregnancy was the thing I was fighting so hard for, believing that statement seemed to negate the reason for our years of hurt. What I'm not saying is that my infertility doesn't matter. It does. It really does. But, it is not the end of my world, not the thing that makes my life worth living or not. And neither is adoption or being a mom. For my readers who are followers of Christ, you know where I'm going with this. Infertility seems to be the thing that God chose to use to turn my heart more towards Him, to open my heart to something I wouldn't have formerly considered, to stretch my definition of family, to realize that we only walk this earth for a brief shadow of time. And while my heart does continue to yearn to experience pregnancy and birth, I have seen that God can put families together in all sorts of ways, and if He means for me to be a mother through adoption, then that was the best plan possible. It wasn't second best, plan B, or an "Oops! That wasn't how I meant for this to go; guess I'll push them towards adoption and hope they're okay with it" from God.
I guess what I'm trying to say, however poorly my words express it, is that with the ebb and flow of each month of hope, I find that the despair I used to experience is just not one that reaches the core of my heart anymore. The Lord used my doctor to successfully remove the parts of me that were causing my extreme physical pain each month, and He filled my home with the squeals and laughter of a beautiful baby whom I am pleased to call my son, which has eased my emotional pain to a very far degree. What I see tonight is that the Lord fulfilled what was His first and foremost plan, even though it wasn't MY first and foremost plan. And it was better than my first and foremost plan could have been, even for reasons I may never understand or recognize--and I can understand and recognize plenty right this minute. When I think of His sovereign plan and how far it reaches, how many people are encompassed, how much humanity is touched by each thing that He does, it astounds me that He would even consider me and love me. And He has chosen to do something different with me than a lot of people; not for anything I've done or not done, but because He is good and gracious and does ALL things well.
My infertility has been used for good. And while I do have my days where I feel slighted and passed over when it comes to pregnancy and birth and children that look like me (I imagine those days will plague me for quite some time), I understand that my life is not about me. It is about how my days on this earth can be used to bring glory to the Father of lights who deigned to reach down, and touch us with grace by sending His Son to take on our human flesh and sorrow, to "breathe our air and walk our sod," and to redeem the lives of those who believe through His death and resurrection. And if infertility and adoption can somehow bring Him glory, then I am thankful He chose those means to bring it about in my life.
When I think about it deeply, I realize I am the one who is blessed. I could still be stuck in my yearning to be a mother. The Lord chose not to open my womb but to open my heart to something different and new (to me). I was thinking as I worked around my home tonight after Isaiah was in bed. How different everything looks these days! It is apparent that a seven month old lives here. Our living room is overflowing with baskets of toys, a highchair flanks our dining room table, a bottle station and basket of bibs & burp cloths grace my kitchen counter tops, my dishwasher is full of small, colorful bowls & spoons, exersaucer & jump-up fill in the doorways, endless piles of tiny laundry go in and out of the laundry room at all times, there is often the sound of laughing and squealing and "gooing," every trash can in the house seems to be full of diapers.
What kind of life am I living now? It astounds me that the Lord has graced me with the thing I thought He was out to keep from me forever. What a distorted view of God I had. I thought He would use my infertility to keep me suffering, to hold my deep longing just out of arm's reach, to teach me how to fight constant bitterness.
I was wrong.
Of the many ways He has used my infertility, He also used it to make me a mother.
"He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the LORD."
I know that His plan for your life may look completely different. Perhaps it will bring Him the most glory to open your womb, or to keep it closed. Perhaps He will lead you down the path of adoption, or not. Whatever His plan, know that it is good and bringing Him glory, no matter how difficult to endure. For whatever brings Him the most glory, my friend, also is for your good.