Dear Fertile People,

We can grow humans in our belly. How weird is that? As a woman, much of my anatomy was created to support life and give nourishment to a new generation. It is literally what my body was designed for.

So, what happens when I can’t?

Let me give you a peek into the mind of a woman dealing with infertility. Our bodies were designed to give life. We were created to do this. When we can’t? We feel broken. Less than.

It’s not like losing a job, or an illness, or even losing a loved one. It’s all those and more, wrapped up into a giant package with a large dose of “I’m not a real woman” slipped in for good measure.

So please, I’m sure you have no intention of hurting me when you ask “When are y’all going to have kids?”, but maybe it’s better if you just don’t. It does hurt. It’s a stabbing, aching pain that gets harder and harder to cover when I answer “hopefully someday”.

And if I am unfortunately dealing with the loss of that desperately wanted pregnancy? Just be quiet. There is honestly nothing you can say that will help, and much you can say that will hurt. The best thing you can do for me is just be with me. Cry with me. Pray with me.

And one more thing to remember, I am not the only one dealing with this. I have a husband who desperately wants children as well. People tend to overlook him and forget that our infertility issues hurt him just as much as they hurt me. He’s pretty important to me, please don’t forget him.

Thank you for loving me enough to try to help, I just thought it would be nice if you knew how.


Photo Credit: istock

Remembering Infertility

Watching Walt play with blocks on the floor and babble about all manner of things has me thinking.  


Once upon a time this was not possible, and yet here he is. God is so faithful. I feel like it's time to share my infertility story one more time as a way to express thanksgiving to God for his miracles, and a way of encouragement for you! 

If you know anyone who is journeying through this desert, please pass this on. 

She's laying in bed next to me, oblivious to my staring. Listening to a book on my iPhone, playing with her fingers and daydreaming about stories from another land. She thinks I'm sleeping, but instead I'm staring at her thinking about the fact that this is her last night of being 8 years old.

Nine years ago she came into this world and made me a mother. She helped me realize a dream that I thought would never happen. Miracles do come true, Sadie is living proof. It's sad to admit, but in the every day craziness of life I sometimes forget to be amazed by the mere presence of my children........

The rest of the story...