Sunday, January 3, 2010

Aha Moment of the Day: The Pain of Infertility

Excerpt taken from this site: Infertility and the Christian

Infertility has always brought pain. Hannah prayed for a child year after year in the temple – weeping, unable to eat, grieving, bitter in soul, and regarding herself as “afflicted” (1 Sam. 1:2-11). Rachel said to Jacob, “Give me children or else I die” (Gen. 30:1-2). Isaac entreated the Lord because he and Rebekah were infertile, yet she did not conceive until about 20 years after they were married (Gen. 25:20-26). One has written that childlessness “violates every instinct God has placed in a woman.3 For many women being fulfilled includes the experiences of conceiving, childbearing and bonding with a newborn. Men likewise can feel diminished by not being able to impregnate their wives. It is very hard for someone who has not had difficulty in having a child to comprehend how emotionally difficult it is.4

I can totally relate to the feeling of bitterness and "not wanting to eat" - sometimes when the tsunami of melancholy hits me unexpectedly, I feel like I want to curl up like a fetus (pun intended) and do absolutely nothing. When my brain is so worked up in asking "why" and my heart is trying to find some consolation amidst the storm, I feel like wanting to sleep and never having to wake up 'coz then the cycle continues: the endless questions, the strong currents of self-pity (that sickens my logic to the core), the guilt I feel for feeling as though my life were hell even if I SHOULD be VERY grateful for every blessing He's given, the guilt I feel for snapping at other people who "mean well" (including hubby and my closest friends), the guilt I feel for feeling so bitchy, the frustration I feel 'coz my body "betrays" me, the deep stabs of longing that are too painful to bear sometimes, etc. etc. etc. 

Sometimes I wish I could just push a "pause" button and live my days the way I did pre-IF, but that's not possible. Somewhere in the distance when the tsunami of sorrow starts to die down, I can hear a whisper: "I could take away all your pains, but that's not what I want for you. I want to allow you to feel all of these and be able to not survive them all, but also rise from the ashes."

2 comments:

  1. I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don't know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.

    Alena

    http://ovarianpain.net

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hi, Alena! THANKS SO MUCH for leaving your comment. :-))) I'm glad someone enjoyed reading this blog of mine. :-)))

    ReplyDelete

THANKS for dropping by and for leaving a comment. :-) I truly appreciate it. :-)