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Ever have a conversations in your head, the one that’s kind of a pep talk but also a prayer? You know, where you sort of tell yourself that you’re going to be faithful while simultaneously telling God that you trust Him and want His will? Do you ever break down and feel like everything you said or promised less than 24 hours ago went out the window the second the bad news comes? I hope I’m not alone on this. 

How is it that I can really mean what I’m saying in those moments, and then disappointment comes, and I’ve suddenly taken it all back. Never mind, self, you don’t “got this.” Never mind, God, I was lying. I’m learning that my relationship with God and my dependence on Him is something that I need to be aware of all the time. How quickly I lose sight of Him when problems arise, which is the opposite of what we’re called to do. The Bible says it over and over again in one form or another: “Lean not on your understanding,” “He’s near to all who call on Him,” and “Commit your way to the Lord and trust in Him.”

The foundation for all of this contemplation is our latest fertility news. This time last week, the scene at our house was much different. I was sure that we were pregnant. I promised myself that I wouldn’t set high expectations, that I wouldn’t get disappointed, and most importantly, that I wouldn’t lose any faith from this round of treatment. I broke all 3 of those promises. 

6 weeks ago, we started a new journey, with a new treatment plan, a new doctor, and new excitement. I began the first of many medications with doubts, but with each new medication that I added to the mix throughout the month, that doubt turned to hope. When the ultrasound showed lots of follicles, I was given the go ahead to perform my tummy shot of Pregnyl, and HCG trigger injection that has a success rate of 99% ovulation. When you’re talking about the span of 18 months, 2 weeks shouldn’t seem that long, but it was the longest 2 week wait of my life. My brain and body started playing tricks on me – any twinge, cramp, pain, or hiccup suddenly became a symptom of pregnancy, and before I knew it, those high expectations that I wasn’t going to set had been surpassed. We began talking about names and nursery colors before I even knew what happened.

A blood test was ordered a week after the injection, which checks progesterone levels, showing whether there was successful ovulation. Why would they even check that? 99% of people ovulate, who is that 1% that doesn’t?


All of the expectations and excitement came crashing down with that phone call. The injection didn’t work. And the promises I made to myself and to God didn’t matter. What started as sadness became fear and eventually anger. Before I knew it, I was right back to the place that I’ve gone so many times before; why me? Why, God? Why did You put me in the 1%? 

I cried and prayed and thought on this all day, and what I’ve come to is a very humbling truth. Even though I break my promises to Him often, He never breaks His promises to me. He loves me without condition and He blesses me with things I wouldn’t even think to ask for – air, water, life.

He did put me in the 1% of this category for reasons I don’t understand right now, but He also included me in the 1% of other groups that I did nothing to deserve – the top 1% of the world’s resources and the top 1% of my company. I’m always seeking His good and running from the bad, but I have to constantly remind myself that it’s all good. God doesn’t torture us, we torture ourselves. We set goals and expectations that become non-negotiables without ever consulting Him. Proverbs tells us to seek His will in all that we do and He will show us the path to take. 

Even now, as I type this post, tears streaming, tub of ice-cream in my lap (don’t judge me.. it’s actually a pint, if that helps), I’m grateful for this journey. I have grown so much closer to God during this time – I’ve become more and more dependent on Him, or I guess acknowledged my need for dependence. I don’t understand why this is happening, but He does. I’ve been given one task, and it could be the hardest of all, continued faith. So while it’s shaky most times and requires constant reinforcement, I know that if He’s asking me to go on this journey, my faith will carry me there. His will, not mine. 

Olivia Grist

Hey there! My name is Olivia Grist. I’m a follower of Jesus, who constantly provides me more than I could ever deserve. I’m also a wife to my high-school sweetheart and dog mom to 3 furry kids. I am a fitness coach who has a new found love for all things creative. I like to write about the messy, chaotic, crazy days that make up this beautiful life on my blog and when I’m not plugged into my online world, you can find me roaming the aisles of Target or binging on the newest Netflix series.

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