Hi, I’m Melinda and I’m currently struggling with the fact that I am not getting pregnant.
But let me explain…and take a few steps back…
One of the things that healed me the most after my divorce (5 years ago) was feeling pain in other new, fresh and difficult ways. Honestly – I know that might sound devastating. Like me saying, “Hey! No worries! It only keeps being terrible and shitty!” It’s a tough pill to swallow, but like my husband likes to say all the time (and much to my dismay): Reality is our friend.
The reality is that back then I thought I’d cried as hard as I’d ever cry. I thought my divorce was my big defining moment of life. Once I got through it, I thought my difficult chapter had closed. And though it felt for a long time like the rest of my chapters would consist of weirdly numb moments of passive, yet slightly enjoyable experiences of emotion, I realized eventually that any new sensation of pain I had was actually waking me up. THEN I thought that the new hope I felt in my soul during the wake up period would carry me forward indefinitely.
And the cycle of pain kept showing up.
I’d often use these cycles in my dialogue when meeting new people. If you know me, you know I am absolutely, 100% an open book. I love to connect with others. I love to share my joy. I love also to share my story of pain.
Now I will share with you my Chapters of Defining Pain. (starting with the first big one, as an adult)
Hi, I’m Melinda and I’m 25 and Divorced and Pretty Much a Total Failure and I’m Wondering What’s Wrong With My Body
Hi, I’m Melinda and I’m Alone and Probably Will Be Forever and I Can Already See the Old Chicken Lady I Will Become but That’s Okay, Because I sort of FEEL Like a Badass
Once that became smaller and my focus changed, my next big Chapter of Defining Pain was called:
I’m in Love With a Man Who Might Be In A State of Sadness and Healing For the Rest of His Life and He Has Actually Denied Me Three Times When I Told Him We Should Be A Couple
(this was the waking up chapter, though) (and yes, when Israel and I met, we’d both tried dating other people after our divorces, we were both still healing, we became friends who understood one another deeply and THEN I knew we’d be together and waited patiently for him to realize it, too)
Once he saw the light and fell in love with me, too, my new Chapter of Defining Pain was called:
I’m a Stepmom and Living in My Husband’s Stupid House That I Didn’t Help Pick Out But Someone Else Did and I Never, Ever Would Have Picked Out (But At Least It Has a Giant Tub)
However, now we live in a new house, and I can truly see the beauty in the time we spent in our first home together. As usual, the timing was perfect (in hindsight) and worked out much better for our family. And the first year of figuring out how to navigate life as an official stepmom was painful in ways I can’t quite describe, but now, I can truly say it is JOYFUL and BRILLIANT and downright DELIGHTFUL. I love those kids.
So, the story is never over, right? Because I now live in what I would call my “soul mate home” with my awesome, fun, and exciting family and all that once was painful became a beautiful part of my life and even with all of that, the next big Chapter of Defining Pain was called:
Hi, I’m Melinda and I Desperately Want a Baby But My Husband Had a Vasectomy Long Before We Met
And the next and most recent:
Hi, I’m Melinda and He Had A Vasectomy Reversal But I’m Not Getting Pregnant and It’s Been Nine Months
My point is, I have realized very VERY recently that I’ll probably keep crying. Life is hard. And I’m pretty sure the wailing sobs of my last “I’m not pregnant” moment were worse and deeper than when I cried over my divorce. In fact, my divorce itself feels like an old blip – like a different lifetime that yes, I remember, but no, I don’t feel emotion about anymore. I know I’ll keep having hard chapters. The next might be called: I Finally Got Pregnant But I Have Postpartum Depression OR Someone In My Immediate Family Has Died (God forbid) OR Something Even Worse That I Cannot Even Make Up.
Each of these chapters feels really awful when I’m in them. Yet now I see something I used to be blind to. I mean, I wish I had enjoyed the summer after my divorce a little bit more. I have great memories, but the entire experience – even the romance and fun and craziness I allowed myself to live out – is clouded by a heavy sadness. I remember my first “first date” as an adult, but I also remember going home after it and crying my eyes out alone in bed, wondering why that date was so wonderful and why that felt so strange to be treated like an actual queen. When I look back at my time alone and feeling like I just might end up an old chicken lady, I wish I had reveled in that reality and enjoyed it more. I wish I felt like a true badass in my singleness. When I felt out of place moving into a house that “wasn’t mine”, I wish I had been more able to see past that and enjoy aspects of it more.
BASICALLY, I WISH I HAD LIVED LIFE JOYFULLY, WITH FAITH AND HOPE, IN EACH OF THESE CHAPTERS.
Faith and Hope were both always in me, but they weren’t always “winning.”
I don’t want to meet a new person, go to coffee, and have my dialogue include: “I’m Melinda, and I’m divorced.” “I’m Melinda, and I’m alone.” or “I’m Melinda, and I’m currently not pregnant but it’s huge, and every month I’m disappointed.”
AND LUCKY ME, BECAUSE TURNS OUT, THESE CHAPTERS ALL HAVE SUBTITLES. YOU KNOW, THAT LITTLE SENTENCE UNDERNEATH THE TITLE THAT TELLS YOU WHAT THE STORY IS REALLY ABOUT.
My divorce chapter: The summer I got out a lot of healthy tears and moved forward and took chances and trusted God to lead my path – Oh! And I had the gift of learning who my true friends were.
My alone chapter: I finally experienced some life that built my character and allowed me to be the person I needed to be to live my best life. And some of those nights were actually pretty darn peaceful.
My rejected-by-Israel chapter: The last time in my life when I’d be doing ONLY my OWN laundry and going to bed whenever I darn well please. ;) ;)
The new stepmom/house chapter: When I finally learned to make a space my own – with others – and learn more about myself and life and strength and love due to these three children who are now my family.
The no-sperm-at-all phase: The time I wasn’t devastated each month, and still had hope in that future surgery.
Which leads me to my current Defining Pain… the fact that it just feels like it won’t happen. I know that for many, 9 months is not that long. That’s what people keep telling me. However, I just thought that it would happen sooner. I was so hopeful – I’d told many people something along the lines of, “I just have a feeling. I bet it’ll happen right away. I am so excited!” And like many, embarrassment is an emotion that brings out my worst. I hate to admit it, but I’m a little bit embarrassed at this point to have nothing to show for that excitement I shared last year. I put a “Sperm Day!” notice on my calendar at work for the day I’d be out, driving my husband to and from his surgery. (Do you remember me telling you that I’m an open book? Words like sperm do not scare me.) The kids know as much as a kid can know about the whole thing… basically that “dad couldn’t have kids, and then he had surgery and he had to lie down for a week and now he can have kids…” and they’re excited, too. Which sort of makes me feel like I’m letting more than just myself down, too.
I’ve had some months when I was a few days late and the secret excitement I felt only caused me shame and devastation when the monthly reminder finally came. I’ve charted everything perfectly and even “still made it fun” despite sort of planning things out. It feels like each month I’ve done everything right. Yet, no baby.
So my own goal is to change this broken record I’ve created for myself. My goal is to trust, actually TRUST, that my future is taken care of. God knows my heart. Is He keeping children from me? I honestly don’t think that He would do that. He gave me three children to parent, so He obviously thinks I’m capable, right? But the youngest was 4 when I met them… Does God think I just am not good with BABIES? (I digress… but these are the thoughts!)
I’ll admit that so far, my life has been one giant, fantastic surprise after another. Things have turned out well for me THROUGH EVERY SINGLE STRUGGLE. Every. Single. One.
1 Samuel 7:12 can be paraphrased as this: Thus far the Lord has been good to us.
When I remember that, the vasectomy reversal phase can easily become:
Just enjoy the process and trust that God’s timing is better than my own.
These are all easier to spot in hindsight. That’s the tricky part. I’m not writing this as someone who’s figured it out perfectly, either. I’m still crying every month I’m not pregnant. I am getting a little bit better with each round of pain, though. I’m bouncing back quicker. I’m truly enjoying the days, which are most of them, where I’m not actively feeling sadness. I’d challenge you to stop and think this through and to try to begin to see past your own pain, because I’m trying to do it, too, and I know it’s hard. I’m right there with you.
Remember that more pain will come and that this current shittiness does not define you forever. Also remember that in the midst of this time, there is probably at least one good thing you (possibly) can’t open your eyes to – and that most likely, the very best moment of your life has not happened yet.
I want to meet people and simply say with a smile, “I’m Melinda.”
What about you?
Lou (who, baby or not, is lucky to have this man by my side for better or for worse)
August 19, 2018 at 9:31 PM
I treasure every word of your writings, Melinda! I love you, my “open book” daughter in love! Keep writing, reading, & laughing, while putting the “big rocks” in first (as listed above under author)…”God, my husband, & my step children make up my world.” As I always say… the story is never over!! Keep watching for the “God sightings” in your daily life, my dear!! His “ways” are never our “ways”… actually, always much better. Keep trusting Him, even when on some days it’s so hard to trace Him. He’s up to good stuff! TONS of love to you! :) Jen
August 19, 2018 at 9:44 PM
Love you so much!!! Thank you for your never ending support!!!!
August 20, 2018 at 4:45 AM
There is a widow I follow, Michelle Steinke-Baumgard, aka “one fit widow”, who says something like “I wouldn’t wish my pain on anyone, but I do wish my perspective in everyone”.
August 20, 2018 at 5:30 AM
I love that. I will have to take a look at Michelle!! 💕💕
August 20, 2018 at 5:54 AM
I know about that frustration and pain you are experiencing. I have enjoyed your writing and openness. I hope it all works out for you and I’m sure whatever the outcome is, it will!
August 20, 2018 at 5:57 AM
Thank you Dawne!! The more women I talk to, the more I realize I am NOT alone. 💕💕💕 thank you so much!!
August 20, 2018 at 6:48 AM
Love this! While I haven’t been in your particular circumstances, I relate so much to your emotions. I hope all of us will learn to live in trust and not in hindsight-think I’m going to thank God right now for what He is doing in my life TODAY.
August 20, 2018 at 6:48 AM
Amen!!! I hope so too!! It’s all about today! 🙏🏼🌱
August 20, 2018 at 9:34 AM
Keep hanging tough. You got this.
August 20, 2018 at 9:42 AM
🙌🏻🙏🏼🌱 thank you!!
August 20, 2018 at 3:30 PM
I love that you are an open book, Melinda, as I am myself. I know the heartbreak that you have felt, only mine was in reverse order. Sean and I tried for a year and a half to get pregnant. Once we did, we lost that baby at 9 weeks of pregnancy. I was devastated! Indeed, God has blessed us with 3 healthy children, but I all too clearly remember the heartbreak every month of not being being pregnant and then losing the baby that we so desperately had tried for. I do take comfort in knowing that there is a child of ours in Heaven waiting to meet us someday. After that heartbreak, came my divorce when my youngest was only 4. Divorce brings shame, heartache and the feeling of failure for sure. The beauty is that God always takes our suffering and pain and carries us through it to bring us to a better place. He makes all things work together for our good.
You are a beautiful daughter of Christ! Your faith will take you to places that you could never even dream of going. I admire your strength and will be praying for you.
August 20, 2018 at 3:39 PM
Thank you for sharing and for the prayers! I miss being your neighbor! You are so great. You have a good, good soul. <3 All of those things are the heartbreak, yet the story if life, right? And yes, good always comes out of it! God does that every time!!!
August 20, 2018 at 4:10 PM
We really miss you too!
I wouldn’t be who I am now if I didn’t go through those struggles. God is always good and faithful! You are strong and He has many amazing things planned for you up ahead!
Prayers and love sent your way!
August 20, 2018 at 7:31 PM
Hi Melinda – so good to read your blog again. It’s still hard to believe you’re a married step-mom and not the little girl I remember from my visits with your family in all the places you lived growing up (I just realized that!).
I went through a few years of infertility problems and remember the pain each month. I so desperately wanted a baby and couldn’t understand why God wasn’t allowing it. For me, it took my painful divorce (with your parents guidance and support) and later issues with my ex-husband to understand in my case, having a baby with him was a really bad thing. Yet still I longer for a child. I was blessed to become a mom through adoption almost 14 years go now and finally realized that God had another wonderful gift for me.
God does have a plan for you, Melinda, one that is perfect for you and your family. I pray that it is to bless you with a new baby, and bring a whole other level of joy to you. I’m so impressed with the maturity of your faith journey, and just want to reinforce your belief that God always provides what is best for us.
Love to you! Shari Goss (friend of your parents from way back).
August 20, 2018 at 8:33 PM
I remember you vividly and always remember knowing you as one of my first women of strength. I knew what you went through (through a child’s eyes) and always thought you were amazingly strong. Thank you for this and for your story. 💕💕💕💕