When God closes a door, he opens a window, but it sure can be Hell in these hallways!
I love that quote.
It says that even when something doesn’t go as expected, there is always another way. The path to that “other way” can sometimes be dark and scary, but have faith because it’s out there!
I have found myself in these dark and scary hallways a lot in the past few years. I always thought that the path to the next appointment, or next doctor, or next blood test was wearing me down, but I may have been wrong about that.
The hallways are where I’ve found myself… My true self.
***
I realized yesterday that I was thankful for something I never thought I would be: Infertility.
You see, my dear friend lost her baby just a few days after I miscarried. She was just a week or so ahead of me in her pregnancy, and she had a D&C a few days after they found that there was no longer a heartbeat.
Yesterday, while she was crying in the waiting room of her OB’s office, surrounded by pregnant women and babies, I found myself thankful that even though I’ve had to endure so much, at least everyone in my doctor’s office understands.
I felt terribly for her, and wished that although she does not have a fertility issue, she could come see my doctor.
The women in the waiting room are not pregnant, or at least not visibly so.
They don’t bring children with them, if they even have them at all.
They smile sadly when you walk in, acknowledging that we are all members of an elite sisterhood of survivors.
The doctors and nurses don’t ask mundane questions like “How are you?”; instead they ask specifics like “Do you want to talk about how you’re handling your miscarriage?” and “How are you really feeling about trying again?”
The situation my body has put me in has also put me in a special setting when it comes to getting, and staying pregnant. Everyone takes greater care not to ask the insensitive questions, and that is very reassuring.
I’m thankful for that, at least.
And to my friend who had to endure the meat-market OB visit yesterday… My heart goes out to you.
I’ll say to you the only things that have helped me:
I am so sorry.
You are so loved.
Your baby mattered.
This will always be with you, and I will always be here to listen.
***
Sometimes the worst things in your life end up being your defining moments in the end.
Although I am still navigating the rough waters of infertility and miscarriage, they have ultimately turned me into an iron-willed warrior and given me a better idea of who I really am.
I am strong.
I am a survivor.
I will not fail.
I’ll come out on top.
I am not defined by what I’ve lost, but rather by what I’ve gained because of my losses.
***
Look out, world…
I might be stuck in the hallway right now, but when I find that damn window, I’m going to fly right through. 🙂
Just Stop Trying and It Will Happen... 