Perseverance

Every Thursday evening I attend a weekly ladies bible study at church.  

It's an hour spent diving into the word and it usually refreshes and renews my soul.

It's even better now with the extra daylight!

This past week's lesson was on Perseverance.  

It's a noun I'd never given much thought.

Perseverance is defined as steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success. 

The interesting thing is that people who 'preservere' initially get divided into two categories in my mind.  

Those who choose to do so and those who don't have a choice.

I think about all those folks who persevere through the physical pain to reach a goal they thought unattainable at one point.  The ones who could never run a mile and then complete a 5k, 10k, half…marathon, ironman, triathlon, etc.  Or the kid who had such a difficult time learning in elementary school and persevered and graduated from college.  Or the athlete who was told they weren't good enough who persevered through the negative feedback and made it to play in college or the pros.
Those folks who continuously work hard towards a goal.  

And then I think about those folks who persevere by default.  Because life has handed them a challenging hand of cards.  Those people who get the cancer diagnosis and persevere through treatments and side effects.  The people born with a birth defect or disability who persevere through life's everyday challenges.  This is the category I lump us into.  

Now into our eighth year of our infertility journey, I guess you could say we've persevered.  Not because we chose to.  We happily would have never have learned this lesson in perseverance if we could have gotten pregnant naturally 8 years ago.  Despite our best efforts, it looks like our lesson in perseverance will continue.  Considering we let almost three years pass us by without trying to do anything to grow our family, it's hard to think we're any good at this whole 'perseverance' thing.  

But, what I have realized, is that I've become great at persevering through really difficult moments.  Individual snapshots in time…that slowly and collectively add up to give me strength to continue on.

Like the moment where I read or hear that 5 out of last year's 7 Race to Parenthood couples are currently expecting and I feel my face start to flush and the tears start deep down in my soul and they threaten to spill onto my face.  And I, somehow, by the Grace of God, keep it together.  Because I realize that to the outside world people are processing that 10 more people get to become parents.  But in my heart and my mind all I realize is that we are the one couple (the other couple essentially fell off the face of the earth), who didn't succeed.  Who still have to persevere on this darn journey. And I have to squelch the feeling of failure…again.

Or that moment where being part of this race makes you realize that people don't always live up to your expectations.  An event where there is so much joy can also come with incredible hurt.  But we persevere and focus on how the positive infinitely outweighs the negative.

Or those moments where I have to teach my heart to be compassionate towards people who have not been on this journey as long as us….instead choosing to be thankful that we still have time to end our infertility story.  And to realize that people who have been on this journey longer than us are probably thinking the same thing in regards to our timeline. 

But aren't we all always running our own form of a race?
There are no differing levels of perseverance.  
There's no group division.

We'll persevere through life's daily trivial snafus AND those difficult journeys with no end in sight.  

I am resilient.

You are resilient. 

We are resilient. 

We will all persevere together.

And Jesus has our back.

If He could...we can, too.  

Congratulations to all those who finished the Monument Avenue 10k today.  
What an amazing race to persevere through!!!

Where my worlds collide….

Three years into our infertility journey…about four years ago now…I quit trying to answer the question "Why us?"  Trying to solve that question made me feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.  It was terrifying and quite frankly, it got me absolutely nowhere.

The fact remains that it IS us.  And, today, as much as I am acutely aware that it is still us…I also spend most days completely oblivious to this fact.  I know that sounds like an oxymoron and it's pretty confusing sometimes to find myself walking in what seems to be two parallel worlds.

Take the other day for example.  Someone I hadn't seen at work in several months saw me and exclaimed "You look great! You're not even showing yet!"  And for a split second I thought "What the heck is she talking about?" until it dawned on me that she knew I had gotten pregnant back in the fall, but someone failed to let her in on the fact that I wasn't anymore.  A perfect moment of me walking through every day life and then having to slip back into the realization that yep, I'm still infertile.

I've spent the better part of three months now preaching about The Race to Parenthood.  Almost every day I think about it.  Whether it's planning it, emotionally dealing with the joy of being back in it with the awareness of what it actually means to be back in it, to blasting it all over Facebook.  I'm very much still pushing forward in this part of our life together.  While being in this season of our life together definitely defines my way of thinking, most of the time, I'm hardly thinking about it.  

I hope that makes sense.

Just like the other day at work, there are moments where my parallel worlds collide and I think…"YES!! This is the reason why we were chosen for infertility to be a part of our story".

I've felt it no greater than I did sitting in church this morning.

For a variety of reasons, I ended up working in the infant part of the nursery at church this morning. I spend several Sundays a month finding joy in other people's children (and then joy in giving them back to their moms and dads! ;)  )  in the nursery at church. The first child to arrive this morning belonged to a couple I went to high school with.  We probably haven't seen each other since high school graduation (Now more than 13 years ago-UGH!), but I was instantly aware of our lives intersecting again.  Without our infertility journey, Paul and I would not be attending that specific church and we would probably not have become as grounded in our faith as we are now.  I, for sure, would not have been in that nursery.  So, while I spent the hour rocking and cuddling with what nursery folks lovingly refer to as a 'clinger' (seriously, anyone who works in a nursery will tell you that the clingers are usually the sweetest who just want a little extra TLC), I was thankful and grateful for our infertility journey leading me directly to that rocking chair with that child whose parents I have known for almost half my life.  For that hour, that little boy was providing my heart with just as much comfort as I was providing his.  The going-through-the-motions, ordinary Sunday morning version of me suddenly collided with the infertility story version of me.  As trivial as that moment may have looked to the outside world, it was a huge reward for the past seven years.

(Side note: my niece is currently 'the screamer' in the nursery.  That child who gets so worked up into hysterics they either puke or you have to go get mom or dad. Luckily for my niece, her 'Aunt Kake' happened to be working across the hall this morning so she came and helped with the babies and that poor volunteer in the walkers got a reprieve from the screamer!)  

After working in the nursery for the first church service, I attended the second service with Paul and my youngest sister.  While waiting for the service to start, the most recent race registration and donation lists were emailed to us.  Instantly I went from being just another church goer on a Sunday morning to the gal who was becoming overwhelmed with the realization that we had officially exceeded the amount of funds we raised in last year's race.  Each and every name on those registration and donation lists was being etched into my heart and I caught a glimpse of Paul and I telling our future children about all the people who believed in mommy and daddy and helped us bring them into our life.  Whatever called you or motivated you to help us, we are so grateful you took action.  We are so grateful that you heard our hearts and our pleas of desperation.  

It was also one of those mornings where I felt like the sermon was written directly for me, for us.  

Our pastor said "Jesus did not come to remove our suffering, but to fill it with his presence."

Oh, how true that statement is.  We have known more blessings and love in the past seven years that we would never have experienced without infertility.  

You, Team Yellow Supporters, are proof of that.  

Our pastor also said that 'encourage' means to 'put courage into…' 

Y'all have done that, too.  

Each and everyone one of you doesn't just 'encourage' us, but you all GIVE us the courage to keep pushing forward.  Your willingness to follow through and take the time and energy to register or donate speaks volumes to our hearts.  

To quote our pastor once more…

"Jesus can turn the worst of life into a place of renewal"

And, yes, Jesus is my biggest source of renewal…

but, you, Team Yellow Supporters...y'all renew me, too.

People on that list come from all different areas of my life…our life.

My family, friends from middle and high school, college, sorority sisters, co-workers…even the people whose friends/family made them sign up….you ALL anchor my soul, too.  

A co-worker gave me a card back in 2010 when our IVF failed the first time and it contained a poem about an Oak Tree.  

My Time Hop app is reminding that 5 years ago this week I was relying fully on God to get me through the pain of a failed IVF cycle.   Most of you had no idea what we were going through back then. 

But, today, as my worlds collide and I continue to walk the fine line between a world focused on infertility and moving forward and a world where I don't let it define me and I forget about it…you team yellow folks have my heart.  

Snow Lover

Somewhere along the way, I've become known for my love of snow at work.  

Perhaps it's the childlike excitement that seizes me at the sight of the first snowflake.

Perhaps it's because I love weather in general and my boss knows I usually have the most up-to-date forecasts.

Even in today's staff meeting, I was asked about tomorrow's impending snow. 

For as far back as my memories go, I've had fond memories of snow.  I think it's because my parents cultivated this love.  My parents were the first to don snowsuits and get us all layered in our snow gear to go out and play.  Because they were 'northerners', snow never scared them and they were willing to drive us to friend's houses on snow days.  I can't equate snow with anything negative.

The world is prettier and more peaceful when covered in white. 

I love the way the air smells and I love the crunch of it under my feet.  

I love feeling the snowflakes on my face and catching them on my tongue. 

I always have. I always will.

When Paul and I got engaged, we picked December to be married.  Partially because it was right after I finished with school and partially because I LOVE December and the beginning of winter.  I even made my bridesmaids wear snowflake necklaces.  Those necklaces were cheesy back then and they're cheesy now, but I still loved them.  I even wore a snowflake broach on my wedding dress.  There were snowflakes everywhere.  I've always been enamored with their beauty…how each one is completely different.  

And wouldn't you know, it was 70 degrees that day. 

As Paul and I keep pushing forward to expand our family, we are feeling more and more called to adopting an embryo (or several). 

We've already reached out to Nightlight Christian Snowflake Adoption program and have been overwhelmed by the support we've received even at the very earliest stages.  

Did you know frozen embryos are referred to as snowflakes?

And I can see all the pieces falling into place again.  

Perhaps there is a greater reason I feel such a fondness towards snowflakes. 

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If you're interested in learning more about the snowflake adoption program, I encourage you to watch a few of these videos.

Snowflake Videos