We Press On

I did not want to write this. I wrestled with God for quite some time. I flat out told him no. I kicked and stomped and threw an adorable little hissy fit.It was not pretty. I was not ready to put myself out there. I didn’t want people to see my scars or know my failures. The thing about grief is, it takes you to some dark places. It causes you to have moments you might not be proud of. It pushes you, pulls you, challenges you and in the end, it changes you. My story is not actually about the hurt though, it’s about the healing. It’s not about the damage done but rather about the restoration that follows. I want this Blog to be so many things. I want it to be a place where you can come and find a real perspective on infertility. A real woman’s journey through something she never thought she’d face. I want it to be a place where you can grieve your loss. Where you can relate to something when it seems like no one else gets it. Where you can find information so you can move forward and start your family, or add to it, or complete it.  I want it to be a breath of fresh air, a place where you can laugh until you cry… or just cry. I want it to be a place for a woman who’s lost a baby, for a husband who doesn’t know how to “fix” infertility, a place for a friend who wants to better understand some one else’s struggles, or for someone searching for God’s grace. I have to tell you, that when I posted on Facebook today that I was starting this Blog, I was sure no one would comment, “like it” or even bother to read it. I stared at that screen for what felt like hours before I clicked the “update status” button. I begrudgingly checked on it before I left for work, mostly to prove to God that this was all really pointless. Yes, I Lori-Beth was going to prove  God, creator of the universe wrong. It was really cute.  He very quickly and overwhelmingly put me in my place. Your response was fantastic. It was humbling. It was everything I was afraid it never would be. You commented, you messaged, and you even “liked” it. You confirmed that this is something that needs to be done. My prayer is that this is a ministry that I can pour my heart into and that you can walk with me during this journey. 

I want to share a little background info with you. Most of you know how Kindal and I met. It’s a precious story that I never get tired of telling. If you’re tired of hearing it, skip this part because I can’t resist an opportunity to make you swoon at the romance and just over all adorablness (real word?) that is “our love story”.  You might throw up. It’s that sweet. I met Kindal when I was 10 years old. His family moved to Owasso because his dad was the new music pastor at First Baptist Owasso. If you ask him, a light was shining down on me that morning on the stage at FBCO. It illuminated my awesome feaux leather jacket, plaid skirt and navy knee socks paired with my Spice Girl platform shoes. I also had some serious bangs and my lips were most likely freshly coated with roll on Lip Smackers strawberry gloss because it’s all my mom would let me wear until 6^th grade when I was allowed to wear CLEAR mascara. It made a HUGE difference, trust me. I looked at least 12 and ½ with that stuff on.  I digress. He saw me and introduced himself. He was 9 and told me right then that we were going to get married. After 10 years of chasing me and being friends and tears shed ( all his lol) and some other misadventures I did realize that he was pretty great and I told him I loved him too and we kissed and I lost my breath. We got married less than a year later. Kindal is my rock. He is kind when I can be unkind. He is patient when I am in a hurry. He loves when I can be unloving. He is selfless when I can be selfish. I have literally seen him give the shirt off of his back to a man who needed it. I have watched him hand over all of his Christmas money to a family who needed to pay for a hotel room. He loves it when it gets snowy because he can drive around pushing people out of ditches. He is generous even when he really doesn’t have anything to give. I love that about him. He will make a way to help you. If you’re stuck on top of a mountain, he will become a mountain climber.

I couldn’t ask for a better person to do life with. Over the last few years, God began prepping me for what I was going to face, and I didn’t even realize it. We can be so single minded sometimes. We only see what’s right in front of us. The Father sees everything. He begins to sharpen us for battles that are yet to come. We don’t like that. We don’t see the point. We question him. We challenge him. Then the battle comes, and we are ready. We thank him. We acknowledge that he is the Alpha and the Omega. The battle is already won because we had what we needed before the first blow fell. All of my life I struggled with feelings of insecurity. I was never good enough. I would never be pretty enough, smart enough or talented enough. I lived and breathed to put on an image of perfection. If anyone ever knew how imperfect I was, there was no way they could love me. I built up walls. I hid the truth. I could never measure up to what I believed people wanted me to be. I was under constant pressure (my own) to be flawless. I had very few real relationships because letting down my guard was simply not an option. It affected every aspect of my life, my marriage, my friendships, my role as a daughter and as a minister’s wife. I can tell you that after an encounter with Jesus, my life has never been the same. I was radically changed. I was set free from the need to be perfect. I was released from my obsession with pleasing others and with the need to make others see that I was good enough. I found my value in the Grace of God. It was the first of many restorations in my life. When you can’t conceive or you miscarry, you can’t help but feel like a failure. Why is it so easy for others? Why can’t I do this?  Why am I not good enough? Why can’t I give this to my husband? My parents want so desperately to hold a grand baby. Why can’t I do this for them? The brokenness I experienced a few years ago made way for restoration and that restoration made me strong. It has become my shield. I know that this is not an issue of “being good enough” and I praise God for walking me through the fire to refine me for the next one.

Kindal and I always we knew we would adopt. We didn't know that we wouldn't be able to have children biologically but we both felt called to adoption at some point in our marriage. I know that for many people, adoption is a last resort. It comes after rounds of fertility treatments and specialist visits. We decided long ago that if we couldn't conceive naturally, we would move on to adoption. I have never been diagnosed with a specific problem. As far as my Dr. can tell, I am a healthy woman with no known cause for infertility. I realize that for some people exhausting every option possible in order to carry a child is vitally important and I respect that. When I think about adoption, I can't help but think about my faith. The Gospel is, after all, all about adoption. The Father sought out his children. He went to great lengths to bring them in to the family. He pursued them. He sent messages through prophecies in the Old Testament letting them know He was on His way. In the New Testament, He made it clear that his Children were Co heirs with Christ, making them equals with his Son. Have you ever just sat and pondered that? You are a CO HEIR with Christ? You are entitled to the same rights and benefits as the son of God? You are a new creation, a son or daughter of the King. The beauty of adoption is that it doesn't matter where you came from. When you're adopted, you gain the full rights and benefits of the people who adopted you. You are treated just like their child because you ARE their child. This picture in the scriptures is one of the many reasons that Kindal and I decided to pursue adoption. 

My posts are going to cover such a broad spectrum. I'll post about what not to say to someone who has lost a baby, how to handle your friends becoming pregnant while you're still hurting, adoption agencies, financial assistance, how your husband can help you, writing letters to your children, and so many other things that helped me, hurt me, confused me and even a few things that made me laugh. In the last week or so, God asked me to start praying for the birth parents of my children, and for my children, where ever they are. I pray for their biological mother, I don't know if she even knows she is pregnant, but I pray for her health and safety. If she has any addictions, I boldly ask that God would break them. I ask that God would begin fostering the idea in her heart that she is not capable of caring for them and that he would heal any pain that that causes her. I can't imagine giving up a child, and I am forever grateful to her. I pray that the biological father would be supportive and loving. That he would never harm our children ( I don't know if they are unborn, babies, or older children) and that he would provide all that they need until we can get to them. I pray that they would both be at peace with giving them up and that God would restore any ache it might cause them. In a strange way, I'm connected to them already, and I don't even know their names. 

The last thing tonight, is just a message to our child, or children. I want you to know, where ever you are tonight little one... that we're coming. You might be in a womb, or crying out in the night, or sitting on the floor playing with toys. We're coming as fast as we can sweet baby. When I find you, I'm going to hold you for a hundred years and tell you I'm so sorry it took us so long. Hang on sweet little boy, gentle little girl. I'm your mom. You just don't know me yet.

We Press on...

LB