I tell myself I won’t next time. I won’t dwell on it. I’ll just forget about it. Relax. Enjoy.
But how?
It’s like trying to stop the waves of the ocean by turning your back on them. Whether you are thinking about them or not, they are crashing toward you. The rise and fall. The intensity changes, but never the fact that waves are coming.
It can strike you with such force it feels like you are tumbling underwater. Lost in a sea of disappointment, surrounded by blues and greens. Time is suspended in a sea of bubbles. And realize you have lost track of up from down and are overwhelmed with what to do next. Light seems very far away, and you actually find it hard to breathe.
As women, our lives are lived in a circle every month. Two weeks seem like an eternity to wait. My emotions are like the waves. Up and down. Maybe. Just maybe this will be the month. You try not to look ahead. Make plans. Dream about the future. But I have begun to think it is just in a woman’s heart.
I still haven’t figured out how to hope without being crushed by the next wave. How to pick myself up the next month to try again.
I told my husband once I wanted to trade places with him, just for a few months. So he had to tell me, instead of the other way around. That way, my heart would only break once instead of twice.
Five years of longing. Praying. Waiting. Hoping. Just the two of us. No one prepares you for the isolation. Loneliness. It isn’t talked about openly. It is a hushed word. Whispered.
Followed by questions. Accusations. Advice. Suggestions. Sometimes their hearts are in the right place. But it sounds hollow coming from someone who can’t possibly understand. Even if they mean well.
Every month the same. Temperature tracking. Lab. Tests. Supplements. More tracking. Timing. More labs. Medications. Diet changes. Acupuncture. Labs again. Massage therapy. Castor oil packs. Change the supplements. Detoxing. Teas. More labs….
And then you do it again the next month.
I can’t wrap mind around the fact that some couples make love and get pregnant. If they only truly knew the miracle in the timing of that. Every organ in both bodies functioning correctly. At the same time. In the exact 36-hour period. No outside factors affecting the outcome. Stress. Sickness. Hormones. Age. Separation. Or just plain being tired.
There are two things that keep my heart from totally breaking and my soul from slowly wasting away: my lovely Savior. Who always gently whispers, “Do you trust that I am good?” and then shows me every day of His great faithfulness in so many areas of my life. Who tends to my heart and reassures me of His love. And who brought the second reason into my life: my love. My husband. Who wraps his strong arms around me and leans his forehead against mine. His bright, smiling blue eyes staring deep into my tearful brown.
He says the words my soul knows are true, “I would choose you anyway. Baby or no baby. Every single day.” And he means it, I know. I am the most important thing on this earth to him. And he proves that to me every day.
We have faith for the one day. The miracle of conception is never lost on us. So, we sing our praise for the blessings in this life, and continue to lay our souls bare like Hannah’s in the temple. Knowing that a single prayer can move His heart. And He can open a womb.
And we continue to love each other more. Building a beautiful life we’ll hopefully share one day with another.
The beauty and strength of Him in us gives me hope. Maybe next month. It will different…and I will trade one line for two.
by Bailey Suzio 
by Beth Renner Regrut 
