I sit here on a cold & snowy Friday morning in March. Lots of things to be done...cleaning to do. However, I am brought a place in my heart a little over a year ago.
After the loss of our 2nd child, the fertility struggle was more than I was prepared for. I had become a recluse - for those of you that know me, that is the farthest from the 'real' me. I was tired of 'hoping' every month only to be disappointed. I felt bad having so many tears. Joel was more of my therapist than my husband. He had to step into a new role in that season.
I remember hearing friends tell me they would pray and remember us each night before bed. It encouraged me. It made me smile to know there were others who understood.
I think it's important to note that while our prayer was answered with a little bundle of pudge called Leland...the pain we experienced is not forgotten. The prayers those of you prayed for us will never be forgotten. I look at our life and stand grateful. Not just for an answered prayer. But, for the ability to now relate with a heap of women around the globe who ache for a child...who dread church-going on Mother's Day...who find Mommy groups annoying. I get it.
If you ever find someone who has this struggle....my advice to you is not in what 'words' to speak. Rather; Pray. For in prayer there comes change.