Results of our last IUI

The evening of my pregnancy test was very windy; dark angry clouds crawled across the sky above us.  John was out of town and Arie and I were in the car running errands. We were listening to the radio when we heard the word "storm" announced from the newscaster. Being the sensitive spirit that he is, Arie grew concerned about the wind and storms he knew were approaching. Over the course of the evening, he furrowed his worried brow and asked a dozen times if "a storm coming?",  looking for reassurance that we were going to be safe from the offending weather.

As we drove home from our errands, my mind was filled with fear about my pregnancy test. My heart palpitated with anxiety and anticipation. I reached for the car radio and began to play the Chris Tomlin CD John and I bought right before my laparscopic surgery in December. Flipping forward through the tracks, I stopped at Sovereign and sang along, weakly, to the lyrics.

All my hopes 
All I need
          Held in your hands 
All my life 
All of me
          Held in your hands 
All my fears 
All my dreams
          Held in yours hands 

From the backseat Arie called out, "Play it again Mama!" and sat raptured, listening again. The car shook from a big gust of wind outside as the lyric, "with me in the calm/with me in the storm" filled the interior. "HEY!" Arie's little voice called out, "He with us in the STORM Mama!! It said STORM!!"

"That's right baby," I replied. His literal storm blew in around us as my turmoil raged inside. "God is with us, even in a scary storm."

At home again, I tucked Arie into bed and headed downstairs to surf the web until I had held my pee long enough for the pregnancy test to be accurate. When it was time, it took me twenty minutes of prayer to gather the courage to take it. In my heart, I knew it was going to be negative. I can't even count the number of pregnancy tests I've taken over the last three years and I've never seen a positive. It seems almost more strange to think I would see two lines rather than one.

Still, I hoped. I read Philippians 2 devotionally and verse 27 stood out to me, "Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow." 

From my depths, I cried out to God and asked him "to spare me sorrow upon sorrow." I prayed, "Not my will but yours be done" as Jesus prayed and asked again that he would please in his infinite wisdom and generosity spare me the sorrow of another failed cycle. I prayed for strength and trust in the face of a single line, but that from his enormity, God would see fit to give me two.

I took the test. I stared somewhat numbly at the two oval windows before me, waiting to see how many lines would appear. With me in the storm. With me in the storm. With me in the storm. 

Only one line appeared. The fault line upon which my heart broke.

I cried. Grief shook my body.

About an hour later, I received a message from a friend that said simply, "Suddenly felt a strong urge to pray for you… praying hard…"

With me in the storm. 

John and I met with Dr. Colbert last Friday. We've reached the end of the (relatively) easy and affordable options. We agreed the next fertility option for us is either IVF or to be recipients of a donated embryo (sometimes called "embryo adoption"). We are praying constantly that the LORD will lead us and I am falling back hard on my life verse:

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:5-6.

Emotionally, physically, spiritually, financially…. we are in great need of his guiding hand.

Wherever he leads us, I know this is not the end of the road for our family. In fact, this morning as I sat at the breakfast table with my little boy, still filled with grief and questions, he looked over at me and out of the blue said, "Hey Mama? I tell you something: I not give up. And you say you not give up too, okay?"

Okay. 

I not give up. 

xo