A Greater "Yes"

I actually wrote this post last fall, but I wanted to repost it because my heart needed the reminder. I was telling a friend last night that I might seem like I am holding it together, most days I am not. I usually don't post on my worst days because, let's be honest- it is nasty! So today, as my anxiety levels are beginning to rise and my hope is continuing to wane, I needed a reminder that God does have a plan. I don't understand it, to be honest- I don't even like it right now, but I have to trust that He has one.

Three and a half years ago, on a beautiful winter afternoon, my dad walked me down the aisle to give me away to the man who captured my heart. On that day, we stood before our family and friends and made a covenant with God and each other that we would walk with each other "in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health".

I distinctly recall the moment that we were asked if we would "accept children lovingly from God". My answer came in the form of a little chuckle, barely getting out the "We Do."

I remember having two thoughts at that moment. First, that this was the beginning of what I had always dreamed of in life. The beginning of my precious family- me, my husband, and my multitude of children. I remember thinking that I was finally at that place that I had always felt created to be- a wife and then a mother.  My second thought was "Lord, please send them (children) slow and steady! We don't want them all at one time!"

Oh, to have the moment back. Oh, to not have been so naive as to think that it would just happen like that.

I never imagined that this would be my path. Our path.

I adore my husband. He walks this path right next to me, and he does so heroically. This is our path. Together.

I assumed that the first three years of our marriage would be filled with crying children, I just never assumed that the crying child would be me. I assumed that I would be kept up at night tending to a child that needed its mother, I never assumed that I would be the one who spent my evenings crying out to my Father.

It's funny how infertility affects you. I used to go to weddings and be in awe of the love of the couple, the beauty of the dress, the amazement of the covenant. Oh, how this has changed me. I participated in the wedding of one of my dearest friends last summer, and spent the entire time praying for one thing: their fertility. I begged God, with tears in my eyes, that He would spare them the pain I've felt for the past three and a half years, that their hearts would never ache because of the emptiness that infertility brings. Last month, I got to hold their answer to my prayer on their wedding day in my arms. I held a tangible reminder that God, does in fact, answer prayers and I am waiting with expectant hope for the day I can hold my own baby in my arms- the answer to the prayers so many have lifted up for us. (Here is a shameless plug: Pray for your local infertiles!)

I have faith that infertility will not be my life forever. That one day my months will no longer be counted in cycle days and baby shower announcements won't induce a raging panic attack. I have faith that one day baby bumps will not send me into a deep dark hole and that friends will no longer avoid you for fear of you dropping the "I" bomb and discussing how badly your heart is breaking. That one day people discussing how they would like to try for number __ won't leave me feeling like I need to ask for an oxygen mask. No, I do not believe that this will be life forever. This is just a season.
I believe that God's "no" to me and my husband means that He has a greater "yes" for us right now. 
A greater "yes"- Can you imagine?