Chapter 4: Grief to Hope

Lately we’ve been experiencing sadness regarding our infertility. This, unfortunately, is normal. It’s O.K. to feel sad and grieve, but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what we are grieving. We don’t have kids, so it isn’t as if we lost a child. I guess what hurts the most is that it’s so final.

Infertility is the death of a dream.

We are in mourning. Don’t get us wrong. We don’t walk around with a sad anti-depressant commercial playing above our heads. We keep most of this grieving internal. We appear happy on the outside. And we aren’t sad every day, but when it hits – it hits hard.

Did you know that infertility affects 1 in 8? The magnitude of that statistic is overwhelming and heartbreaking. To anyone who is experiencing ANY signs of infertility – we are here for you. There’s nothing better than having support from others who are experiencing or have experienced the same thoughts and tears as you are.

Yesterday we reached out to our friend and advocate of all things infertility and adoption. She is the most amazing woman and mother. We find such comfort in her advice because we know her family has been through what we are experiencing, and it’s so nice to see that there’s a rainbow at the end of this storm.

Lindsey is so amazing in fact that she has become one of Utah’s largest adoption advocates and has rallied the infertility and adoption community together. It’s inspiring what bonds this brings.

So we reached out to her with this question: What is the purpose of infertility?

We don’t get it. What are we supposed to learn from this? Help us see the rainbow at the end.

Next thing we know, Lindsey let us know that she would ask this very question to her followers of The R House (you can also find her at The R House blog). Three o’clock yesterday the question hit Facebook and the responses came flooding in.

A lot of the answers were what we expected to hear in some way or another. That it teaches patience, that it teaches to trust God. However, there was one response that was unexpected. And beautiful.

I’m trying to figure out how to phrase this without it coming off as “I’m glad people are infertile” because I dealt with my own infertility fears for 4 years and wouldn’t wish that struggle on anyone but as a Birthmother it was an answer to prayers to know that my “mistake” could be someone else’s blessing. Does that make sense?

Yes. This makes perfect, beautiful sense. We could be someone’s blessing. The significance of this is overwhelming.

Infertility hurts and adoption is scary. This isn’t the end of our struggles. We will continue to mourn. However, we do know this: There is a blessing in disguise hidden somewhere in our story that is just for us.