This Chapter..

I've debated on writing this post for a while now. Probably by the time I publish it, I'll have rewritten it until it's not even what I intended it to be in the first place. I have found myself going back and forth between whether sharing is actually worth it. I hate when people overshare online (and find myself doing it often. ugh.) and I didn't want this part of my our story to get pegged as being used to get attention or pity or whatever. But there's something that I've learned recently through conversations with friends... and that is once you shed light on a dark area in your life, it's not so dark anymore. Yeah, there's still shadows. There's still dark corners, but saying out loud, I'm hurting, I'm struggling, I'm frustrated, shines light in those dark, dank places. Like the song that repeats "there's power in the name of Jesus," there's also power in other words when spoken, sometimes they even have the ability to drain the power from the darkness and use it to power us brighter. I'm getting too deep and weird, so here goes..

Christopher and I have been married for a little over 2 years now. They have been great and I've been so blessed to get to know my bf for life better each day of that 2 years. We went into marriage being open and honest about how we felt about having children. We both wanted kids but we were compelled to tell each other that it's possible that something physically could be wrong with us when it came to having them biological. We took it seriously, saying we would adopt if that's where God led us, but we also shrugged it off, cause really, what are the chances.

I've learned as an adult that things rarely go the way we plan them. It's happened so much that I've almost given up completely on planning things (I'm late to places a lot because of this and usually empty handed because I could've sworn this shower wasn't for AT LEAST another week. smh at myself some times).

Back to chances... So apparently the exact number for said chances are 1 in 10. That's how many woman have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and I am the 1. PCOS is the leading cause of female infertility. It also puts woman at a higher risk of heart disease, diabetes, and some types of cancer, just to name a few of the uglies.

I knew I was more likely to have it since my mom did (and apparently there's talk that my grandmother and aunt might've too), but I seriously thought I was in the clear. Cycles on the reg (for the most part). No excess body hair (other than that little patch that I thought all ladies have on their upper lip). So my hairbrush is always full of hair? (I thought all girls' hair fell out that much). Everyone is vitamin D deficient these days, that's nothing to worry about. It's been two years and we haven't conceived? Oh...there may be a problem. Went to the doctor. Got the diagnosis. Was given hope that these days "we can practically make rocks ovulate." and in the next breath after blood work was taken, I was set back down even lower than before, "without help, I don't think it'll happen on it's own."

Let me tell you, not knowing why you aren't pregnant when you want to be is hard. Not conceiving immediately after you realized you wanted to have a baby is hard. Watching your husband refuse to hold newborns because it breaks his heart more that we don't one of our own is hard. But the hardest part so far was hearing, "without help, it's not possible."

I get it. With God all things are possible for those who love him and who are called according to his purpose. He who promised is faithful. God's timing is perfect. Believe it or not, I know that couples try for years and end up pregnant "as soon as they give up." Great for them. And I don't mean that sarcastically. I really don't. I'm just thankful for people like my mom and others who have come forward about their feelings from the in between time. The time between finding out you're body is quite literally broken and the time that God blesses you (or maybe doesn't) with the answer to your prayers. Christopher told me the day I was diagnosed not to lose hope. Just look in the mirror. You're PROOF that this isn't the end of this chapter of our story. I just get so tired of, "So when are you two gonna have kids?!" People mean well, I know they do. But it's all I can do some days to answer without crying. [I'm ranting now, but that article that went viral a couple weeks ago about not asking that question cause it's none of your business, PREACH.] And I know people don't ask out of malice, I just wish we would all realize that our words have power and we have to be sensitive to situations and feelings and the Spirit's leading.

I have come to a certain peace about it all. God has shown up in unexpected ways, whispering he hears every prayer, in every moment, even the dark ones.

So on goes this chapter.. On goes taking one step at time. On goes taking better care of myself cause I'm seriously too lazy for the upkeep that diabetes takes. haha

Please know that your prayers for us and support through these times are treasured more than you know.

Below is a song that came on my ipod yesterday and had me in literal tears during my 2 minute commute home from work. Go listen to it. Now. It's beautiful.

Happiness is somewhere I have been before-
A blurry photograph that I have since ignored.
I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more,
Until I set the record straight.

I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright.
I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light.
I'll let my better angels always set me right,
Until I even out the score.
Until I even out the score.

God, it has been quite a year-
I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more.
I know that I've asked it before,
But please let the scale tip here in my favor.

What was once the sweetest melody I've heard
Is now a memory reduced to little words.
I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture,
Until I pinpoint every note.

Give me the heart of an archeologist,
That I may dig until I prove that I exist.
A subterranean cathedral in my midst,
Where echos come to rest.
Where echos come to rest.
Is this where echos come to rest?

God, it has been quite a year-
I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more.
I know that I've asked it before,
But please let the scale tip here in my favor.

Until I set the record straight,
Until I set the record straight,
Until I can set the record straight. 

Aperture by Sleeping at Last