Oh hi there, have we met before?

In case we haven’t met, here’s the short version of who I am: I’m a country-living, ice tea drinking, good book reading, farming, ranching, Jesus-loving, curly-headed wife of a seminary professor.   He’s a teacher, I’m a writer. He’s a thinker, I’m a graphic designer. You can get to know me a little better here.

Did you know that Kendall and I have a common story? She is much braver than I was, she’s very open about her struggle with infertility. But my story is hard for me to share. I think it is hard to share because, for several years, it was hard for me to accept.

I hid behind a brave face, dodging questions and stifling my own misery. Pretending I was okay, when in fact my heart was  breaking. Pretending I didn’t question Providence, when in fact I was so angry with God that I could feel my anger raging within me.

You see, my husband, The Professor, and I – we had a plan. School first, then kids. We even had the best intentions. The Professor was pursuing his Ph.D., and we were committed to getting through school debt-free. We were very focused.

We did it. We got through school (and replaced a car) 100% debt-free. I didn’t know it then, but upon reflection I realized that I assumed God would bless our hard work by giving us children. We were doing the right thing, living frugal, purposeful lives. Of course He would give us what we wanted, when we wanted it.

But He didn’t. We bought a house. A country home on 8 acres where we farm and ranch. With two bedrooms that were never converted into nurseries and kids rooms. We even have a fort in the backyard, with swings that move only on the breeziest of days.

My story is the story of a baby-less mama. My husband and I are still wading through the muddy, painful waters of unexplained infertility. And until last November, I hid in shame and frustration, sharing our journey with only a few of our closest, most trusted friends.  


This story, the one of loss and heartache, really is a universal story, with unique and individualized chapters. But I was angry and bitter, and in denial that I am living this story.
The burden was not lifted until I finally found the courage to share my story. Around the same time I first shared my story on my blog I wrote a letter to our friends and family. The response I received from that letter and from the first blog post brought me so much encouragement. So much joy. So much peace.
You know that saying, “there’s strength in numbers”? It’s true. When our friends and family came along side us and supported us through prayer and kind words, it brought an unspoken inner strength to face this journey with courage and peace.
That’s why I’m here today. I wish that I had followed Kendall’s example long ago. Opening up and sharing my struggle without shame and fear. The past several years would have been so much easier.
What about you? What story do you need to share? Sharing our stories brings healing to our hearts, and hope to those who read it. Will embrace your struggle, and turn it into a story of strength? Will you face your fears and turn them into a story of courage?
Join me, won’t you?
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