Grace in the Storm

I haven't felt like I've had a lot to say lately. Life is pretty regular, normal, every day kind of stuff right now, or as my friend  Jennie says, BAU- Business As Usual. That's us for sure. But last night, I was scrolling through Facebook before going to bed, you know, just in case anything really important happened like another dozen people dumped water on their heads. I ran into a post that really got me stirred up. And sadly, I was embarrassed on behalf on the infertility community.

Okay, so a little background: For those of you who don't follow Georgia news, you may not have heard of Tripp Halstead, but anyone around Atlanta has probably followed the story to some degree. Almost two years ago, a little boy (Tripp) was playing outside at his daycare when strong winds caused a large branch to fall on the two year old's head. Tripp spent a long time in the hospital and the injury has been a life altering event for his family. Last night, an update from his mom just happened to pop up in my news feed. Apparently, she's been undergoing some type of infertility treatment and her most recent (and according to Tracy her last) cycle failed. She posted a heartfelt comment about the situation.

Tracy's page has over a million followers, so you can imagine she received quite a number of comments on a post like that. As of a few moments ago, there are over 1,100. It should also not be surprising that the majority of her followers are not infertile... her story, her page is about her son, not infertility. As such, many of the comments are from people who have absolutely no idea what infertility is like nor what they should or should not say. Here are a few of the comments:

If it's God's will, it'll happen.

Why don't you adopt?

Lots of really helpful stuff here. Some "if it's meant to happen, it will." Quite a number of stories about a friend of a friend who stopped treatment and then "poof. pregnant just like that." And then everyone's favorite, "you can always adopt." I actually found a few, "you know if you adopt, you'll probably get pregnant." The comments make me want to gag. They are awful, hurtful, unhelpful. But here's the thing: just about every commenter is saying something from a place of compassion. They say something because they care. They say the wrong thing because they don't know any better.

Now I know that just about every infertility blogger has posted their own version of What to Say to Your Infertile Friend and Resolve has a really helpful list on the website. But here's the thing, I don't think those of us dealing with infertility can expect the whole world to be well versed in this area. Some people are going to inadvertently say hurtful things when they are trying to help or comfort us. At that moment we have the opportunity to offer grace (and maybe a gentle education on etiquette) or we can turn into the stereotypical bitter infertile.

One such comment stirred up quite the controversy:

The dreaded: "Just relax"

Poor Reba had no idea what she was about to unleash. As of this morning, she had 44 comments to her comment, and there are quite a few other comments to the comments within her comment... essentially it's ugly. Quite a few infertile women went ballistic. And I get it. Sometimes if one more person tells me to relax OR that God will get me pregnant if He wants to OR that Sarah was 90 when she got pregnant, so I'm never too old... in those moments I've certainly wanted to punch the commenter in the face. Thus far, I've resisted, but it doesn't mean I haven't had the urge.

The truth of the matter is that social media and the invention of the "comment" has given everyone a good deal more courage and a lot less common sense. People write things that they would never actually say to someone face to face. Blood starts to boil as the comments add and pretty soon the most level-headed and kindhearted person is adding more fuel to the fire. It becomes kind of ridiculous. I almost found myself wanting to comment (which I never do) to douse the flames a bit and remind everyone that the point was never to create controversy, but rather support a woman who is hurting. Thankfully, I resisted as I'm sure it wouldn't have had the effect I was looking for, but rather incite further comment fury.

I'm a big proponent of Thumper's words of wisdom: "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all." However, I get that sometimes something does need to be said. There are occasions in life, when saying nothing does more harm than good... I'm not sure that this situation was one of those times, but regardless everyone involved could have handled the situation better. A woman was hurting because she found out that the treatment she had hoped would bring her a baby failed, her womb is still empty, and she felt as if that was her last chance to add to her family. The fighting and arguing about what is or is not helpful, insensitive, rude, etc. was really not necessary. Instead of finding comfort, Tracy found a lot of angry women using her space to engage in stupid, petty arguments. I was just so frustrated with the whole thing.

The more I read, the more I felt like the women who aren't infertile, were really frustrated with the women who are. Like as a group... not as an individual. That as a group we portray ourselves as bitter, angry women who are on the hunt and ready to jump down anyone's throat for saying the wrong thing. It broke my heart. I typically try to keep my blog true to it's title... I don't try to engage or incite arguments, but I do try my very best to be honest. But the truth is, some days I'm afraid to write what I really want because of this exact situation. I'm afraid that somewhere out there, there is a group of people just waiting, looking, searching for buzz words ready to blow up my comments section and make me and my friends feel guilty for various things like adoption and IVF and other controversial things. My biggest fear with the blog is to unintentionally and inadvertently give someone a platform to tear others down in the spirit of "free speech" and "open dialogue." So I all too often stay quiet to protect the innocent... my blog will never be a place intended for hate.

I was really disappointed in all of those involved in the situation last night. The whole situation could have been handled with a lot more grace by everyone. I hate to think that infertile women are out their giving me a bad name, as I would never want to do something that made anyone view infertility or my infertile sisters in a bad light. My goal is to shine a light on infertility, educate people about infertility, and offer support to anyone in need... not to bash people or create an environment where we all sit around and hate on fertile people. Because really, what's the point? Yes, there are jerks out there who will say rude and hurtful things just to be mean, but in my experience, nine times out of ten, the hurtful comment is made in ignorance. Attacking the person does zero good. It makes them defensive and makes us, as a community, look bad. There is a better solution. The truth is that infertile women often are bitter... I know I've been bitter often throughout these years. This journey is hard. This storm is fierce. But bitterness (particularly abusive, negative, hateful bitterness) will solve nothing, grace on the other hand will soften hearts. The comments people say do hurt and I do want to lash out, but I know that it will never help the situation. My wish would be that when people think of me that they would think "what a hard, long journey, but she handled it with so much grace. what a beautiful story." Admittedly, I don't always do that, but that would be my wish for anyone struggling with infertility, for us all as a community... that we would present ourselves well, that we would hold our heads high, but that we would engage with humble hearts.  No one wants to advocate for someone that they dislike, and the truth is, we can't create the change we want in our communities or within the government if people think all infertile women are hateful, spiteful, and bitter. I'm proud of the community, proud of my friends; I just want others to see us as I do.

The Next Right Thing

The truth is I'm nervous. Nervous because life is pretty good right now. I'm still dealing with some lingering depression, but it's not situational. We've been home owners for about three months now and it really feels awesome. It feels good to invest in us, in our future. It feels good to put down roots. It feels good to do hard work because it's OURS (yeah, yeah technically it's the bank's, but you know what I mean). Buying our first home was definitely the next right thing for us. But I'll admit that there were a few days weeks in the home buying process where I was wondering if we were making a GIANT mistake.

People always tell you to trust your gut. I don't know, maybe that works for some people, but my gut is untrustworthy. Anxiety brings on a very fussy gut. Seriously guys, the fear of the fire drill sent me home sick so many times in Kindergarten I ended up at a specialist for chronic stomach pain… just ask my mom. I have never been able to trust my gut... if the situation for any reason causes me to be nervous, my gut will tell me to run the other way. For example, my gut would have never allowed me to get married. I've mentioned before that I was anxious when I got engaged. I was nervous about getting married. I was not calm. My stomach was uneasy. I was anxious... it took time for me to breathe and for the anxiety to slip away. Time for my stomach to chill out. The morning after the wedding, I woke up with so much peace. And I've gained more and more and more since then. Sam was the right man. Marriage was the right decision. It was the next right thing.

I've got another one of those BIG type of decisions looming. Some times I think about it and I feel really good. It feels like a good plan. I feel happy and optimistic about the possibilities. Other times, particularly when I think about committing to that step, announcing the decision, signing paperwork, etc; I feel nervous. When I think about what could go wrong in five, ten, twenty years because of this decision, I feel nauseous. I can't trust my gut here.

I think my greatest fear is loss and pain and heartache. Really, just more of the same. For a while the whole concept of doing nothing, of not cycling, of not trying, seemed absurd. I thought I'd send myself into a panic attack at the mere idea of leaving the embryos frozen in Florida and taking a break from all of that. But the longer I've sat in this place, the longer I've enjoyed it. My life is good. Seriously, it is. Sure, it's partly because I'm prohibiting my mind from wandering down the deep, dark, twisty roads of infertility misery. I'm not allowing myself to really even think about infertility let alone dwell on it. But the feel good feeling is also because not trying means I can't fail. I am not plagued by worry. I'm not spending countless hours researching the benefits of eletroacupuncture or the potential effects of eating a roast beef sandwich or skipping a prenatal vitamin. I'm just living, maybe for the first time in three years, and it feels really nice. I'm not a hundred percent sure I'm ready to open myself back up to the potential for more heartache, more loss, more regret, more rejection.

However, I also know that doing nothing will most likely yield more nothing. Sure, the Lord could bless my womb and we could get pregnant next month, but He hasn't promised me that. And I believe that the Lord asks us to do life: to make choices, to work hard, to try, to grow, to fail. If we want to grow our family, we are going to have to take some risks. Risks can feel really scary though, especially when past experience says that risks don't bring rewards, but ruin. When your expectations are crushed, your hope can be lost amidst the rubble.

I've written about this series before, but it's come back to my mind recently. I keep hearing this phrase in my head over and over again. Jeff Henderson shared in the series Climate Change that God is in the business of building hope in our lives, but we have to trust him... especially when life doesn’t make a lot of sense. That trust looks like simply choosing to do the next right thing and letting God take care of the big picture. At first that really seems like a dumb idea to me. I like to be in the know. I like to see how everything will work out. I do not like to react to unforeseen circumstances, I like to be proactive. I like to know how the story ends. But lately, I've been thinking more and more that maybe knowing the whole story isn't for the best. If you told me three years ago that I'd be here (still infertile, still childless) I'm not sure that I would have had the courage to go on. Because really, my worst nightmares wouldn't have included all of this. So I've been thinking maybe I don't see the whole picture, maybe I don't know the whole story because the truth would freeze my feet. All I have to do is trust and take a step... do the next right thing.

I don't know if the next right thing will be THE thing that brings home Baby Greavu, but I'm hoping that it will at least bring us one step closer. And I guess that's the leap of faith… trusting that the next right thing, will lead us to the next, next right thing, and so on. We just focus on the step right in front of us and trust that He sees the whole journey.

Summer Days Drifting Away

I've been an atrocious blogger this summer. I think to myself, "Amanda, you should blog," but then I think, "ehh, nothing to say and I just blogged a few days ago." I then look on Blogger, and lo and behold, I blogged three weeks ago. Whoopsie! But then I remind myself that I have nothing to say and I move on with my day. That's been the pattern for the last few months. I'm blaming it on the following:

1. ZERO activity in infertility treatments
2. LOTS of time spent working on the house
3. work has been INSANE this summer
4. nothing worth saying

When you work full time (and you're not a teacher) and you're not a mom, summer is REALLY unglamorous. The days look like every other day of the year with even less holidays (only ONE holiday, really???)... it's just a lot hotter. Add in the boredom of zero vacations and well, believe me, you're grateful I didn't blog a lot.

But, the good news is that fall is just around the corner, or so I keep telling myself. Kids actually started back to school in Georgia today! UGA starts back up two weeks from Monday. It has even felt a bit like fall lately... I'm not necessarily hoping for a bitter winter, but I'm okay if summer ends and fall starts like, oh I don't know, tomorrow. I'm over the heat and the humidity and high power bills. I could really use a good 3-4 months of needing no AC or heat... my bank account would really appreciate it.

Plus fall brings an assortment of other good things that I'm looking forward to, such as football (we got tickets this year), our annual camping trip with the Fentons, and I'm also hoping to get a few photo sessions in the fall... it's been waaayyyyy too long. I would typically mention all the birthdays (my mom, myself and my husband are all within nine days), but I can already feel the mid-life crisis brewing. This is NOT going to be a good birthday for me, so I may just sleep through that day... it feels like the mature thing to do.

In other news, despite all of my budget woes and big ticket items like HVAC units, it appears that we're going to be okay. I mean, it's not like we've got savings or anything... I'm not even sure what that feels like. Retirement... what's that? 401K... in our dreams. We're still in debt, but it's just not as bad as I thought. Thanks to a couple of raises, and some generous family, we might be debt free (I use that term so loosely) in the next couple of months. I can't even explain what a GIANT answer to prayer this is. Once we finally pay off our credit cards, I have some big news... that's all I'm saying for now. I hope you like surprises and anticipation and all of that... if not, forget I said anything.

The only other thing I've got for you is a request to go show some love to my friends! Jessah is pregnant after SIX YEARS and an incredibly long, bumpy journey, so go send her love and hugs and warm wishes and all of that stuff. And my last request: say a prayer and think positive thoughts for my friend, Erika. She's in the process of adopting again after a heartbreaking failed adoption last fall. The baby is due on Monday and I, for one, am desperate for this to work. It's been six years for Erika as well... it's time people, it's time. That's really about all I have for you, today. And really, I'm patting myself on the back for even getting this together. Much love people, much love.