open and fruitless

It's been no secret that since William and I got married, we have been walking the long, winding road of infertility. It's a journey that has tested me in every facet of my being: emotionally, spiritually, physically.  It has tested our relationship as well as our relationships with others, and honestly my own sanity at times. My whole dream - the way I have prepped my life's trajectory- has been centered around three things:

1) Get married. 

2) Have as many children as fast as I possibly can. 

3) Live happily ever after.

 I cannot count the number of times I have said "Better enjoy this (Thanksgiving, Christmas, other family holiday) because next time around we might have a child; maybe two!" When that same holiday comes back around year after year, the stabbing pain leaves me crippled; thinking of the life I "what if" into existence that hasn't come to fruition - again. I find myself in the repeating thought of "not being good enough," and it slowly turned into the soundtrack of the last several years. The feelings of loneliness, isolation, and jealousy seem to periodically consume me; I could go on for days could go on for days about the overarching emotional ebbs and flows. 

But here is where this post takes a detour. This post does not come in a plea for a pity party, or to say "woe is me, look how sad I feel." It is for every couple that suffers in silence, that others might have a glimpse into what it feels like. 

It's important for you to hear from my own lips about the tears I have cried. When I see that yet another one of my dearest friends is pregnant, I feel unashamedly angry. I may love a woman to the depths, but my immediate reaction to her exciting news is not love or joy. Instead, I immediately jump to the same record.

 "Why does she deserve this?"

"Why do she and her husband get this so easily?

"I'm better at (insert life skill) than her."

"I deserve this more than her"

"Why do they get three and I can't even have one?"

These lyrics sound selfish and appear self-centered. But not for the reasons you think. These tears and complaints are not because of you, or the life inside of you. They are because of me. Tears come because self-loathing and -pity runs so deep in my veins now that it's hard to escape a blaming mentality. If you've met me, you know that I am generally a kind and loving person.
These pointed thoughts scare me. I try to stamp them out, but to no avail. Regardless, it is a learning experience. It is important for me to acknowledge how deeply this has affected my life just as much as it does other; that I would turn my back on my closest friends, like a dog cleaning a wound. My hope is that you would know that every time someone chooses not to share their joy with me, it hurts. And yet every time someone does, I still find hurt. It isn't fair; not for others and not for me. It doesn't make sense. Share anyway. Call me to be the person I should be, not the person that I'm afraid of. I am not my wound, and this difficult journey does not define me.  

I want for anyone who is young, still in college, still in high school (ahem you know who you are) to consider these words. To see that in broken darkness, the Lord might shine through it and say to you "stay in school. Invest in yourself, your spirit, your body, your education, your experiences. Travel. Know many different kinds of people. Have fun. Be young. Do what you're afraid of."  

It is not selfish to make yourself the best you can be before you get married and have children. I thought I was wasting my time in college because all I planned to do was get married and create a family. Surprise! That's not what I am doing, and your reality may be that it's not what you are doing either. But this does not label you as meaningless or that you are not worthy of motherhood. As the saying goes: don't put all your little eggs in one basket 

I want to bring attention to how hard it is to be part of a religion that focuses energy on one woman's pregnancy and motherhood, when you can do neither. Last year, at the feast of the Immaculate Conception, I cried the whole time.Why not me, Lord? Let's examine the way that we prepare girls to be women from the very start. I grew up with a baby doll in each arm and I have had a list of baby names since I was six years old. Honest to God. I know my own mother tried her best to encourage me to pursue other paths, but the world that I grew up in told me that being a mother was the highest achievable good. And the reality that I have discover is that this is Just. Not. True. The lives of the Saints overflow with women who did many wonderfull things for the Lord, without having children. Let us tell our girls about these women who found purpose in serving God in the way that He called her. 

When childbearing is the highest good that you can strive for, you feel worthless when you are physically unable to do so. I feel worthless. The Church spends copious amounts of time defending her teachings on why Catholics are open to life that it often seems to skim over the people who have been open all along, but have received nothing to be called fruits of their labor. Instead, those that continue to have more and more children, we raise up to be the standard of faithfulness. The Lord has a plan for the marriage of the infertile as well, and one marriage is not more holy or more a societal necessity because of the number of children they have. Parenthood does not automatically make a family holy. Living out your highest Christly potential, your vocation, and the path that the Lord has laid for you is the road to holiness. 

I want to place non-traditional parents on the proverbial pedestal. Husbands and wives raising children that are not their own, people who suffer daily for children whom they did not personally bring into this world. The parents of children who are not their same ethnicity, that are reminded every time someone looks at them in an odd way or asks an impolite question that serves as an inhuman reminder that her children are not genetically her own. I want to bring the the "Cool Aunt/Uncle" into the spotlight. Those who could never have children so they invest everything into their nieces and nephews and the community around them. The parents that have the courage to be foster parents to children for a single season of life. Individuals that step in for other parents when they will not -or cannot- provide for their family. These humans  are important; these are people that are necessary, and I would argue that it is almost more challenging for them to be open to life than it is to welcome another member into your family. These are people who live out a true Christlike journey: giving without expecting anything in return. 

I want to reach out and embrace the woman who is reading this saying, "This is me. Someone else gets it." Yes, I get it. You are not alone. So many women walk this road feeling alone and isolated and not good enough or not chosen. You are not alone. And you are chosen; chosen for a path that may differ from what you had planned, but a nonetheless special path. I challenge you to examine how high the Lords ways are above our own. Reach out. Talk to someone. Don't ever think that this is your burden to carry and yours alone, or that someone is sick of hearing about your struggle. Your struggle is valid, and is understood. Reach out to your husband, as he is suffering too.

You are not alone. You are good. You are lovely. You can not be a mother and still serve the Lord. 

Don't get me wrong. I love marriage, I love women, I love men, I love families, the Church, the Blessed Mother, and babies (Oh God do I love babies). But consider this: if you catch yourself scrolling through your Facebook feed whilst breastfeeding, please don't look at my vacation posts and wish to switch places with me. The grass is always greener on the other side. When you see someone who has been married for five years with no kids, don't wish that you still had her thighs. She would trade for your thighs to have tiny arms wrapped around them. Remember the childless while you labor. Remember the childless when your child wakes you up for the 4th time at night or won't stop crying. Remember that someone is praying for the blessing in your arms that you may unknowingly take for granted.  One in eight couples struggles with infertility. Someone you dearly love is carrying this cross. 

I leave you with these words from St Teresa of Avila:

Christ has no body on earth but yours;

 No hands but yours 

No feet but yours

Yours are the eyes through which  the compassion of Christ must look out on the world.

Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good. 

Yours are the hands with which He is to bless His people. 

Peace.