Part 8: I Just Want To Be Normal

So the pre-IUI appointment was made. As I drove back to Georgia that Thursday night, I cried all the way. And listened to my worship playlist. Belted the songs through tears. What else could I do? As one of the songs says “Oh where else would we go but with the Lord of Hosts” (from “Psalm 46 (Lord of Hosts)” by Shane & Shane). And so I sang. 

And sang. 

And sang. 

Until I was hoarse. 

The next morning, waking up super early for my appointment, I was panicked. I didn’t feel settled, but I chalked it up to unknown territory, and a night’s sleep in our bed without Stephen. (He didn’t come home until Saturday.) This was something new again. I don’t like the unknown. As I sat outside waiting for the office to open, I honestly felt scared, I felt out of my league. 

And I’m a nurse. 

I can’t imagine this for people not used to the medical world!

But I also felt defeated. 

Having a child, starting a family, it all came down to this? So many tests and ultrasounds and probes in places I’d rather probes not go. 

But I’d do it all if that’s what it took. 

And so, ultrasound done, very detailed plan in place, prescriptions called in, I drove to work, put on a happy face, and helped deliver everyone else’s babies for the rest of the day, feeling more broken inside than I cared to admit. 

The next day, Stephen returned home. It was our anniversary. The day my body officially told me we weren’t pregnant. 

Thanks, body. What an insult. 

We had an amazing night downtown anyway, no thanks to the cramps and headache. Through it all, it was a sweet night of reminders of that amazing day, one year before. A fancy rooftop dinner, our top tier wedding cake, our wedding video, sharing memories and laughter. And the next morning we boarded a plane for a fun week in New York. 

We both needed it. The time away. Time exclusively together. To have fun and disconnect from the world. Time to just enjoy each other. 

And we did. So much. We were free to do whatever we wanted to! Go here? Ok! Check that out? Sure, why not? 

There were moments where the feeling of failure would creep back in. How could it not? 

The child crying in the store. 

The sweet family at the restaurant. 

The little baseball-capped boy and his dad at the ballgame. 

Daggers to my womanhood. 

Its amazing sometimes to me that we walk around whole beings on the outside for all the jabs life takes at our souls. 

My greatest desire, to be a mom. The things I long most to give my husband, children. 

I couldn’t do it. 

Sometimes the reminders were so painful, I’d nestle my head into Stephen’s chest and let the tears fall. His embrace always comfort and strength. And his reminder: “Babe, that’s just not true. You’re not a failure.”

But there was no pregnancy was there?

For the most part, we were able to put this aside and thoroughly enjoy our time in NY. Between the food, the shows, the sights, the Yankees, the fireworks, staying in Times Square. 

We made so many fun memories!

In Times Square totally looking like tourists!

In Times Square trying NOT to look like tourists! :)

But our New York trip ended all too soon. Upon our return, we had a week of "normalcy" before we headed to camp with our students. But we were on a timeline. I had a week for my body to cooperate and ovulate. If it didn’t, I’d need to give myself a shot, then proceed with IUI. Twice. 

One guess on whether my body did its job.

Nope. Sure didn’t. 

Failed again. 

This time we had a way to make it do its job. A shot. But in the process of prep for the procedure, somehow the office had missed giving me all the information - maybe because I’m a nurse and they assumed, maybe because I had been to a couple of their offices instead of just one...for whatever reason, I didn’t know what to do. 

When exactly do I give myself the shot? Does it matter where? I knew timing was super important. 

In the process of trying to figure all this out - on a weekend (of course), I had a moment on the couch, anxiously awaiting a text, then a phone call, that I knew this wasn’t me. I was literally on the verge of freaking out.

Who am I? I’m not an anxious person. I don’t second-guess everything I do. What am I becoming? I don’t like how this feels!

Fear and anxiety had taken over.

I felt panicked again. Not a feeling I’d like to become accustomed to.

I finally got it all figured out, just in time for the next steps. 

IUI on Sunday and Monday. Sitting in that office again, my husband down the hall doing his part, I was so broken. So sad that this...this was how God meant it to be? 

This is what You had in mind for us to start our family? Why can't we just have sex like normal people?

It was in this very moment that none of this felt right for us. I didn’t understand why it had to be this way. The gift of eros love that God has given us...it was amazing...but it couldn’t produce a family for us?

And yet, here was our chance, our boat. 

It was done. The IUI. Once. And twice.

After the second procedure, we rushed from the office to church and literally jumped right on a bus to head to camp with our students for a week, no one knowing where we were or what had just taken place. The mess of thoughts and emotions in my mind. But I wasn’t going to miss this week for the world - my last camp with my 8th grade girls before they went to high school! 

On a whole, it was an incredible week seeing God move in and through the lives of our students. It was emotional and overwhelming in amazing ways. But, personally, it was one of the loneliest weeks. Putting aside our personal journey for the good of these students. I didn’t always do it well. 

Early mornings. 

Late nights. 

Teenagers 23 hours out of 24. Leading them in one of the biggest weeks of their lives. 

I was tired. 

Way tired. 

In every way...spiritually, emotionally, physically. And they could tell. How do you lead when you’re asking deep hard questions yourself? I finally shared with my girls that Pastor Stephen and I were in the midst of a personal battle that took a lot of my energy, giving no more details than that. And their faith that week? As the speaker at camp had said, sometimes you ride on the faith of others until your own catches up. That’s exactly what I did.

Life went on as “normal” for a couple more weeks. And by normal, I mean, thinking of it all the time, inserting medication twice a day, constant body reminders of the possibility that a pregnancy might just happen this time...or not. And yet, as always, we were hopeful. 

I tried to not think about it every second of every day. Tried not to interpret every little twinge in my body. Tried not to tick off day after day with no definitive answer. I cried out to God, begging Him for this to be the month. I read Scripture telling of His power, His might. I believed He could do it. And then one trip to the bathroom could make it all unravel. 

I’d convinced myself a hundred times I was pregnant.

And a hundred and one times I wasn’t.

It can truly make a person crazy. 



Here's the link to my playlist. It has helped keep me sane and helped settle my soul countless times. It's not specific to fertility, so check it out if you need some soul-filling tunes. It's called { sow } . And check back in a few days for Post 9: The Promises and the Ask!