Psalms 113

Praise ye the LORD. Praise, O ye servants of the LORD, praise the name of the LORD. Blessed be the name of the LORD from this time forth and for evermore. From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same the LORD's name is to be praised. The LORD is high above all nations, and his glory above the heavens. Who is like unto the LORD our God, who dwelleth on high, Who humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven, and in the earth! He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill; That he may set him with princes, even with the princes of his people. He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the Lord.

Stand Alone

Life with a disease is full of misconceptions. Life with endometriosis is no exception.

What I have had to do is learn to stand alone.

Over the past few years I've learned that I can't except (or even hope in some cases) that people will understand - or even believe you. If you look fine then all is fine right? It doesn't matter how much pain your in, or little do they know the only physical activity that they see you doing is actually all that you are able to do for the entire day - or sometimes even the week. But my facial colour is good - I'm not pale or "sickly" - so what's the problem? "Just get over it." Being told that I could eat "normal" if I wanted to. Sure, I could eat all the junk I want and never have any respite from the pain. Being accused of "hiding away" while the truth is I'm bedridden because of the pain. Longing just to do simple, what should be daily, activities. I can fake it for a little while - show up to gatherings, and such - then go home and be exhausted from the pain. Have to schedule my life around the time when I will guaranteed be bedridden, when my body contracts and I can't believe that I actually live through this every month.

And that's just the physical.

I have to stand even more alone emotionally. But if your reading this, I don't think I need to try and convince you. You know what it's like when your friend get pregnant - again - and you want to be happy for her, but you can't help but weep. To be told you just need to "get over" this too. Oh, people do try to be understanding, at least some of them. But sometimes their "encouraging" comments are much worse and quite hurtful. Endometriosis and infertility itself is a silent issue. No one will think about it when mother's day comes around, except if they take issue when you don't join the festivities. There are no books in the church library. There is everything else (so it seems) from divorce, to cancer, to kidnapped children, or loss of a child. You feel like a part of your womanhood is gone, but you don't know how to express that or what to do. No matter how understanding your husband is, he won't be able to understand this one. But not that he has to.

I have been blessed with a wonderful husband who does in his own way stand by me. He holds my hand (when he can be home) when I'm bawling because of the period pain, or when my cysts burst. He has learned to take me aside privately and give me a big hug when we find out someone is pregnant. Over the years he has tried to convince me that this a "we" issue, not a "me" issue (I still with him good luck with that, it sometimes isn't so convincing). But there are still things that you do  have to go through by yourself - as with all things. No one can feel them for you, and I've learned from experience that bottling them up inside does not help - even if some of those around you have made it clear that they are really not that interested and would rather we didn't let anything show.

I may never find someone who, from experience, know what I am going through. There will always be those many people who don't understand, and would rather you dealt with your problems over there somewhere, out of their way. Then there are those who are just ignorant and try, for better or worse. But I have to remember that I am never actually alone. God tells us that He will never leave us or forsake us. His way is love. And just because people aren't following through on His commandment to love, it is not Him who has let us down.

I'm sure everyone who goes through something life changing, regardless of it's origin, feels alone. That's because on one hand we are. Our lives are so unique that there will never be a single person who goes through exactly what you go through or reacts and feels the same way. And we have to learn to work with that. But on the other hand we are not alone. We may not have physical comforts, it is a blessing if we do, but God is always there. And He is interested in brining us through these hard times.

Trust

"Trust in the Lord with all your strength and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6

Being barren makes you think a lot about Trust. Do we really trust God when we're freaking out about what we can do to "fix" us so we can have babies? Usually not. At least not me anyway.

This journey is big on trust - and patience. It's a lot easier to be patient when we have trust. I am hardly there yet, some days I can honestly say I do alright, but being barren is a long hard road, especially when you "no one" knows your pain. God knows, and it's Him we should trust. He can heal me in a second, or like seems to be the case so far, He doesn't. But I have to trust that He knows best and has a plan and that this is part of it (cause it's certainly no mine).

Trust is to trust even when we don't know what's going on and let God take care of it.

Barren Mothers Day

Mother's Day.

The day where we go to whatever congregation we attend and all the mothers are asked to stand while we all clap for them.

And wish we were one of them.

For two years I kept thinking, "Next year, it'll be my turn."

"Next year..."

For the last three years I've just stayed home.

It's been to hard to endure everyone else rising while we say, "Congratulations on your ability to get pregnant." There is nothing for the Barren Woman. The Barren Woman is forgotten on mothers day. Why would anyone want to dampen the mood by remembering that it is actually a painful day for many of us.

And not just for the infertile. What about those who have miscarried? Or those who did not have a good mother. It's taboo so suggest that any mothers are not doing such a great job on mother's day. Who cares? Clap for them it's mother's day! Well I'm sure those who are effected do care - a lot.

I know a woman, although both her children are in Child and Family Services, and she has no intention of getting them back, boast about her mother's day gift. Happy Mother's day.

What's the point of mother's day anyways? To honour our mothers. If we don't do that any other day, finding a specific day to do that is just cheap.

If a miracle happens and someday I am able to have children of my own, I do not believe I will celebrate mother's day. Mother's day is such a hurtful time, I'm not going to so easily forget the pain it causes. My children's birth day will be the biggest Mother's Day I could ever hope to have.

I'm not going to ever forget where I came from, the hurt of being barren. I would love to have children, but it's not so that I can flaunt them to everyone else. I don't think I could ever stand up and have everyone clap for me, even if there was no infertile women present.

But I've thought about the "maybe"s and "next year"s too much these past mother's days. For me it's a Barren Day.
It seems like whenever you tell someone that you have endometriosis that (if they have heard of the disease before) they will immediately go into a discourse about so-and-so that they knew of who had endometriosis and proceed to list the number of children she's had.

Those people are important too, and have had their share of pain. Certainly I'd love to be one of those blessed people. But it really is not a helpful comment.
If determination gave birth to children...
I'd have thousands
If will gave birth to children...
I'd have plenty
If skill gave birth to children...
I'd at least have some
If love gave birth to children...
I'd have all I'd ever want

But God gives birth to children...
And on Him I'll have to wait

Psalm 113

When I first heard this verse (focusing on verse 9) after being told it was impossible to bear children, I did not take it well. It just rubbed me the wrong way. "How is that even possible?" I thought.

First, I can't have children, don't you get it? In my mind, to be a "joyful mother of children" you needed children.

Second, I'm in too much pain to "keep house".

So much for encouraging.


However...

There is something to this. After some time, I was able to read these verses again and think that there maybe is something there. Maybe, just maybe there is a place for the Barren Woman. Maybe the Lord does see her after all, and she isn't totally rejected.

"To keep house", to have some place to belong. The Lord does, after all, provide a place for the Barren Woman.

As for "joyful mother of children" I'm still working on that. To be joyful and satisfied in The Lord, no matter what circumstances. Joyful as if I did have children, not delighting in the child (which I do not have), but in The Lord Himself. As Paul said in Philippians, "For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." Then he goes on to talk about being full and hungry, in abundance or want.

In this he says "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."