Some days I envy those mothers who were given the gift of pregnancy easily. Other days, I marvel at the medicine and science God created that allows me the same gift. Some days, I cry while I put away the syringe, not at the fleeting pain of the injection, but at the deep love I have for my children...the one in my arms, the ones waiting to be placed in my body, and the two already in God's arms in Heaven.
I know that my struggle to conceive has allowed me to speak into the lives of so many women, hurting from their own empty arms. That Lila's conception, pregnancy and birth is a testimony to the ways God answers prayers. But some days, I wish I could trade all of the good that has come from years of those medicines for two quick little lines on a test.
It's hard to think we are starting this all over again. With Lila's IVF, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into and we would have done anything for a child. But I know that God is not done with our family. Lila is meant to be a big sister. I am meant to hold more babies against my body and nurse them through the night. Brian is meant to swaddle a little one and gently rock them to sleep.Some days I have to remind myself why I suffer through it all. And other days, none of the shots or patches or hormone swings or early mornings sitting in a doctor's office under a paper sheet or silly crying over a spilled dog bowl of water even matters. Because this week, I will get on a plane to Chicago and go meet my babies, nestled in their little tubes, frozen and fast asleep. And God will give them life in my body in the miraculous way that only He can do. So this Saturday, pray for my babies. Pray that God gives Brian and I strength of body and mind. And pray that His will be done for our family.