Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

15 months. For 15 months, my husband and I have been trying to conceive. We started with the movie version – “we’re not NOT trying,” but after experiencing some difficulty with an unregulated cycle, we decided we would start actually trying. I’ve been pretty open with our entire story of infertility – from the first appointment, to the terrible Clomid side effects, and even taking a break from everything this winter for a mental reset. Those of you who have struggled with the disappointment of a negative pregnancy test and frustration about repeating the whole dreadful medication cycle month after month know how exhausting it can be. I promised myself that I would go into pregnancy with nothing but gratitude and faith – so when I found myself angry with God for these circumstances, angry with my husband for simply breathing (ladies.. please tell me I’m not alone here?!), and angry with myself for not being able to do this, I realized it was time to refocus before moving forward. This was in November, and since that time, we’ve been praying for a sign or a reminder; something telling us that it was time to continuing pursuing our vision of starting a family. 

Earlier this month, that reminder came and we made a decision to move forward. We found a specialist who focuses on the specific “problems” that we’ve been encountering, and after that appointment, our roadblock finally has a name – hypothalamic amenorrhea; a condition where the hypothalamus stops producing the hormones necessary for the body to go through a monthly cycle. The name sounds a little scary, right? It’s not. Our new treatment plan for getting pregnant is actually pretty simple. A few oral medications, an ultrasound, and an injection, along with following some very specific timing, and our chances of success are pretty great. 

HERE is the scary thing; with this treatment, the success rate of pregnancy in the first 3 cycles is 80%. If you’re confused, don’t worry, so am I. Why is it terrifying that something we’ve wanted so badly has very good odds of happening? I’ve been hesitant to talk about this because infertility is such a personal topic, it has so much hurt attached to it. Even the most confident and faithful women can easily fall into the trap of comparing herself to others, and I can only imagine how challenging it is to hear someone say that they are less than ecstatic about the possibility of ending the fertility battle. But, what I’m learning is that I must allow myself grace, to feel emotions unapologetically, because by pushing them away or hiding them, I’m only perpetuating the shame and guilt I’ve felt about this topic over the last 15 months. 

So here I am – admitting that I am terrified. Experiencing infertility is disappointing, and frustrating, but it also becomes an identity, at least it did for me. It became an excusable excuse. It allowed me to take the focus off of my real fears; What if I’m not a good mom? What if we can’t do this? What if our baby isn’t healthy? What if I get this wrong? What if we aren’t really ready? 

All of the shame thoughts that I hold tightly are telling me that I can’t do this, that there’s a reason we haven’t conceived. This morning I realized that’s true; there IS a reason this hasn’t worked. Not because we aren’t worthy, but because we haven’t put our faith over our fears. For this to work, God needs us to trust Him with no boundaries.

I’m afraid, I have doubts, a small piece of me wishes that I could go back a few days and cling to the infertility diagnosis, but the only thing that keeps playing in my mind is the chorus to the song “Oceans” by Hillsong United – “Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters, wherever You would call me.”

God calls us to do great things, and isn’t the greatest of them being a parent? I can’t do this, my husband and I can’t do any of this – but He can and I know He will. Here’s to focusing on faith when I’m drowning in fear. 

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

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 http://oliviagrist.com/ 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.

Your Husband Needs Friendship Too

In: Faith, Friendship, Marriage
3 men smiling outside

As the clock inches closer to 7:00 on a Monday evening, I pull out whatever dessert I had prepared that week and set it out on the kitchen counter. This particular week it’s a trifle, but other weeks it may be brownies, pound cake, or cookies of some kind. My eyes do one last sweep to make sure there isn’t a tripping hazard disguised as a dog toy on the floor and that the leftover dinner is put away. Then, my kids and I make ourselves scarce. Sometimes that involves library runs or gym visits, but it mostly looks like...

Keep Reading

This Is Why Moms Ask for Experience Gifts

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Mother and young daughter under Christmas lights wearing red sweaters

When a mama asks for experience gifts for her kids for Christmas, please don’t take it as she’s ungrateful or a Scrooge. She appreciates the love her children get, she really does. But she’s tired. She’s tired of the endless number of toys that sit in the bottom of a toy bin and never see the light of day. She’s tired of tripping over the hundreds of LEGOs and reminding her son to pick them up so the baby doesn’t find them and choke. She’s tired of having four Elsa dolls (we have baby Elsa, Barbie Elsa, a mini Elsa,...

Keep Reading

When You Just Don’t Feel Like Christmas

In: Faith, Living
Woman sad looking out a winter window

It’s hard to admit, but some years I have to force myself to decorate for Christmas. Some years the lights look a little dimmer. The garlands feel a bit heavier. And the circumstances of life just aren’t wrapped in a big red bow like I so wish they were. Then comparison creeps in like a fake Facebook friend and I just feel like hiding under the covers and skipping it all. Because I know there’s no way to measure up to the perfect life “out there.” And it all just feels heavier than it used to. Though I feel alone,...

Keep Reading

When Your Kids Ask, “Where Is God?”

In: Faith, Kids
Child looking at sunset

How do I know if the voice I’m hearing is God’s voice? When I was in high school, I found myself asking this question. My dad was a pastor, and I was feeling called to ministry. I didn’t know if I was just hearing my dad’s wish or the call of God. I was worried I was confusing the two. It turns out, I did know. I knew because I was raised to recognize the presence of God all around me. Once I knew what God’s presence felt like, I also knew what God’s voice sounded like. There is a...

Keep Reading

To the Woman Longing to Become a Mother

In: Faith, Grief, Motherhood
Woman looking at pregnancy test with hand on her head and sad expression

To the woman who is struggling with infertility. To the woman who is staring at another pregnancy test with your flashlight or holding it up in the light, praying so hard that there will be even the faintest line. To the woman whose period showed up right on time. To the woman who is just ready to quit. I don’t know the details of your story. I don’t know what doctors have told you. I don’t know how long you have been trying. I don’t know how many tears you have shed. I don’t know if you have lost a...

Keep Reading

I Was There to Walk My Mother to Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Loss
Hand holding older woman's hand

I prayed to see my momma die. Please don’t click away yet or judge me harshly after five seconds. I prayed to see, to experience, to be in the room, to be a part of every last millisecond of my momma’s final days, final hours, and final moments here on Earth. You see, as a wife of a military man, I have always lived away from my family. I have missed many birthdays, celebrations, dinners, and important things. But my heart couldn’t miss this important moment. I live 12 hours away from the room in the house where my momma...

Keep Reading

God Sent Me to You

In: Faith, Motherhood
Newborn gazing at mother with father smiling down

I was a little unsure As I left God’s warm embrace: What will it be like? What challenges will I face? There were so many questions Running through my mind. I asked around for the answers I was hoping to find. Who will hold me And cuddle me tight? Who will rock me To sleep at night? RELATED: The Newborn Nights Feel As Endless As My Love For You Who will comfort me When I’ve had a rough day? Who will be there To take my worries away? Who will nourish me And make sure I grow? Who will read...

Keep Reading

Addiction Doesn’t Get the Final Say Over My Son

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman praying with head bowed

She is so tired. It is a kind of tired that no amount of sleep or rest can alleviate. It is a kind of tired that surpasses physical and even mental fatigue. It is a tiredness of soul—a tiredness that comes from wondering, and grieving, and not knowing how to save her son from the drugs the enemy has bound him up in. She kneels alone on the floor in her bedroom closet. This is where she came when the fear and the uncertainty and the panic started to creep into her heart again. She came here to pray, though...

Keep Reading

I Want to Be a Praying Mama

In: Faith, Motherhood
Dirt road at dusk

I want to be that praying mama. The one who stops on the side of the road when the time seems fit, just to take those few short, undistracted moments to lift my kids up to God. I want to be that praying mama. The one who prays while she drives down the road to schools and lifts each one up as they exit the car for the start of their day. RELATED: Praying For Your Kids is Holy Work of Motherhood I want to be that praying mama. The one who does it so much that the youngest doesn’t...

Keep Reading

Blessed Are Those Who Can’t Even

In: Faith, Living
Woman rubbing temples with hands, color photo

We argued about an orange last night after dinner. Not even a large orange. A tiny mandarin. As emotions escalated between my beloved husband and me, the eldest child graciously removed herself from the table and donned noise-canceling headphones while the smallest child openly snickered and was dispatched to her room to play while we hashed things out in “peace.” I’d love to say that was the most insane thing we’ve ever argued about, but that would be a lie. My kids love to remind us about the breadstick incident a few years back. Life has been a bit overwhelming...

Keep Reading