Your worth is not tied to your dreams.
Your value isn't tied to your body.
The weight of a broken dream is crushing. But that's not where your worth comes from.
The feeling that your body cannot do what society tells you it is meant to do does not determine whether or not you have value.
You are worthy. You are valuable. Your fertility (or infertility) doesn't define you.
The feeling that your body cannot do what society tells you it is meant to do does not determine whether or not you have value.
You are worthy. You are valuable. Your fertility (or infertility) doesn't define you.
But how does a person write a new future story?
It begins with untangling your worth from our dreams. Sometimes, this includes reexamining our theology. Sometimes, it includes reevaluating the influence of our family's expectations. Sometimes, it also includes redefining our roles in society.
If you believe that your value to God lies in your ability to become pregnant, I'd gently recommend you rethink that theology. You have been created in the image of God. God sees you, just as you have been created, and God calls you good. Your worth comes from bearing God's image, not from bearing a child. There are so many ways to serve God faithfully. Parenting is one of those ways, but it is not the only way to faithfully serve God. And if you believe that somehow, your infertility is a result of sin, I would definitely tell you to rethink that theology. I thought that about myself for a while, and I'm grateful for the people who loved me and told me that this is not how God works. Friends, I will tell you - this is not how God works. My faith in God has taught me this - God weeps when we weep. Every time you've cried over infertility, God has cried with you. God didn't give you this as a punishment, God didn't do this just to teach you something. Now - that doesn't mean that you can't learn something from it. Heaven knows that I sure did. But I want you to know how beloved you are to God, and that your infertility is not a result of your life decisions. The earth is an imperfect place. Bad things happen, things that are out of our control. And yes, infertility JUST SUCKS. But God is with you through it.
If your family talks to you all the time about future grandchildren, or if they are pressuring you or constantly questioning you about when you're going to get pregnant, I'd gently recommend you have an honest and loving conversation with your family. It's likely this is part of their future story too. Keep in mind though, that they don't love you for your ability to procreate. You may be afraid of disappointing them, or you may be angry and tired of hearing all their talk about grandchildren. I think that considering the concept of future stories will be helpful for you, and taking time to flesh that out with your partner or your friends will help you have this talk with your family. Be open and honest. Set boundaries if you need to. You could say something like, "Mom, I know you've always wanted grandchildren. And I'm sure this is disappointing for you. It's so hard for me too. While I recognize your feelings, I really need you to stop mentioning grandchildren to me right now." Setting boundaries isn't easy, but I think that if you can define your own broken or halted future story, it will help you walk through this with your family. My prayer for you is that they are understanding and this can all be resolved from a place of love.
And let's face it: society puts so much pressure on women to become mothers, for married couples to get pregnant. If your family isn't saying it, complete strangers probably are! "When are you having children?" "Why aren't you pregnant yet?" I totally get it - those kinds of comments are maddening! Let me promise you again that your worth does not depend on a quick, easy, or even guaranteed pregnancy. You are a valuable contribution to society whether or not you have a child. If you're feeling this pressure, I'd gently remind you to seek out role models who aren't parents - either by choice or because of the cruelty of infertility - and see the ways in which they defy society's expectations. Find people like you and talk it out with them. And if you're looking for something to say when a stranger asks you why you don't have kids (or more kids, in my case), check out my response on the "Dreams Deferred" page of this mosaic.
If you believe that your value to God lies in your ability to become pregnant, I'd gently recommend you rethink that theology. You have been created in the image of God. God sees you, just as you have been created, and God calls you good. Your worth comes from bearing God's image, not from bearing a child. There are so many ways to serve God faithfully. Parenting is one of those ways, but it is not the only way to faithfully serve God. And if you believe that somehow, your infertility is a result of sin, I would definitely tell you to rethink that theology. I thought that about myself for a while, and I'm grateful for the people who loved me and told me that this is not how God works. Friends, I will tell you - this is not how God works. My faith in God has taught me this - God weeps when we weep. Every time you've cried over infertility, God has cried with you. God didn't give you this as a punishment, God didn't do this just to teach you something. Now - that doesn't mean that you can't learn something from it. Heaven knows that I sure did. But I want you to know how beloved you are to God, and that your infertility is not a result of your life decisions. The earth is an imperfect place. Bad things happen, things that are out of our control. And yes, infertility JUST SUCKS. But God is with you through it.
If your family talks to you all the time about future grandchildren, or if they are pressuring you or constantly questioning you about when you're going to get pregnant, I'd gently recommend you have an honest and loving conversation with your family. It's likely this is part of their future story too. Keep in mind though, that they don't love you for your ability to procreate. You may be afraid of disappointing them, or you may be angry and tired of hearing all their talk about grandchildren. I think that considering the concept of future stories will be helpful for you, and taking time to flesh that out with your partner or your friends will help you have this talk with your family. Be open and honest. Set boundaries if you need to. You could say something like, "Mom, I know you've always wanted grandchildren. And I'm sure this is disappointing for you. It's so hard for me too. While I recognize your feelings, I really need you to stop mentioning grandchildren to me right now." Setting boundaries isn't easy, but I think that if you can define your own broken or halted future story, it will help you walk through this with your family. My prayer for you is that they are understanding and this can all be resolved from a place of love.
And let's face it: society puts so much pressure on women to become mothers, for married couples to get pregnant. If your family isn't saying it, complete strangers probably are! "When are you having children?" "Why aren't you pregnant yet?" I totally get it - those kinds of comments are maddening! Let me promise you again that your worth does not depend on a quick, easy, or even guaranteed pregnancy. You are a valuable contribution to society whether or not you have a child. If you're feeling this pressure, I'd gently remind you to seek out role models who aren't parents - either by choice or because of the cruelty of infertility - and see the ways in which they defy society's expectations. Find people like you and talk it out with them. And if you're looking for something to say when a stranger asks you why you don't have kids (or more kids, in my case), check out my response on the "Dreams Deferred" page of this mosaic.
No, I'm not talking about another plan for treatment. I'm talking about future stories. If your only plan is to have biological children and then you find out you're infertile, your whole world is going to come crashing down. That's the dream deferred. That's the broken future story. That's the little death.
Once you're able to name what you're going through - with friends, family, your partner, pastor, or therapist - it's time to start creating a new future story. What are some other possible stories you could write for yourself?
If you find yourself completely stuck on plan A, you might also find yourself rooted in hopelessness or despair. When it comes to future stories, Dr. Andrew D. Lester says that, "Functional future stories are those future projections of our core narratives that open up life and invite us into an exciting, meaningful tomorrow. They are 'hope-full' future stories that answer the 'What happens next?' question by providing meaning and values that enrich life and make us want to persevere... Dysfunctional future stories are those that cannot fulfill the purpose of future stories, to provide reasons to keep on moving into the future with hope." Dysfunctional future stories are life-sucking. Functional future stories are life-giving.
Friends, I don't want you to get stuck in a dysfunctional future story. I don't want you to stay in despair. I want you to create new meaning and find hope. This might mean you need to reframe your way of thinking. You might have to change your future story.
One way to think about reframing your future story is to imagine your future story as a room in a house, and it's time to "rearrange the furniture" or "change the decorations."
I think there's value in writing more than one new future story. They can be totally distinct stories, or they can be more of the choose-your-own-adventure variety.
Maybe you'll make new plans. "Ok, so I know I can't get pregnant. Maybe I'll look into adoption. If that doesn't work (or feel right, or whatever), maybe I'll go back to school and earn that other degree I've been wanting. Maybe I'll sign up for a photography class and start a new business. Maybe I'll throw myself into being the best aunt I can be for my niece and nephew. Maybe we'll save for a year and take a trip to Greece this summer."
Maybe you'll redefine yourself. "I've always wanted to be a parent, but if that's not going to be the case for me, I know I'm so much more. I'm a good partner and I'm greatly loved. I'm an empathetic friend who loves to listen, laugh, and cry with others. I contribute to this world through my everyday work and the times I get to give back to my community. I'm whole and worthy in many ways."
This doesn't happen easily, and it surely doesn't happen overnight. Take time with yourself. Be patient - with yourself and your partner. Allow yourself time to grieve. This isn't a way to cover up the pain, deny the emotions, or rush through grief. But this is a way to move forward.
It's important to have more than one future story, and more importantly, it's important that they all are stories that you and your partner can live with. These need to be stories that rewrite your future into a more hopeful one - hope beyond your current situation, but an overall picture of hope that permeates your whole lives.
Once you're able to name what you're going through - with friends, family, your partner, pastor, or therapist - it's time to start creating a new future story. What are some other possible stories you could write for yourself?
If you find yourself completely stuck on plan A, you might also find yourself rooted in hopelessness or despair. When it comes to future stories, Dr. Andrew D. Lester says that, "Functional future stories are those future projections of our core narratives that open up life and invite us into an exciting, meaningful tomorrow. They are 'hope-full' future stories that answer the 'What happens next?' question by providing meaning and values that enrich life and make us want to persevere... Dysfunctional future stories are those that cannot fulfill the purpose of future stories, to provide reasons to keep on moving into the future with hope." Dysfunctional future stories are life-sucking. Functional future stories are life-giving.
Friends, I don't want you to get stuck in a dysfunctional future story. I don't want you to stay in despair. I want you to create new meaning and find hope. This might mean you need to reframe your way of thinking. You might have to change your future story.
One way to think about reframing your future story is to imagine your future story as a room in a house, and it's time to "rearrange the furniture" or "change the decorations."
I think there's value in writing more than one new future story. They can be totally distinct stories, or they can be more of the choose-your-own-adventure variety.
Maybe you'll make new plans. "Ok, so I know I can't get pregnant. Maybe I'll look into adoption. If that doesn't work (or feel right, or whatever), maybe I'll go back to school and earn that other degree I've been wanting. Maybe I'll sign up for a photography class and start a new business. Maybe I'll throw myself into being the best aunt I can be for my niece and nephew. Maybe we'll save for a year and take a trip to Greece this summer."
Maybe you'll redefine yourself. "I've always wanted to be a parent, but if that's not going to be the case for me, I know I'm so much more. I'm a good partner and I'm greatly loved. I'm an empathetic friend who loves to listen, laugh, and cry with others. I contribute to this world through my everyday work and the times I get to give back to my community. I'm whole and worthy in many ways."
This doesn't happen easily, and it surely doesn't happen overnight. Take time with yourself. Be patient - with yourself and your partner. Allow yourself time to grieve. This isn't a way to cover up the pain, deny the emotions, or rush through grief. But this is a way to move forward.
It's important to have more than one future story, and more importantly, it's important that they all are stories that you and your partner can live with. These need to be stories that rewrite your future into a more hopeful one - hope beyond your current situation, but an overall picture of hope that permeates your whole lives.
How do I start writing a new future story?
One way to begin is with storytelling. Imagine a new future for yourself that is filled with good news, based on positive values, in which you might experience a joyful life. Here are some ideas Dr. Andrew Lester suggests we consider:
As you create this story, Dr. Lester suggests you "expand the narrative with content and characters." Create multiple endings to the same story. If you consider your life as a movie, what might three distinct but joyful endings be? If you can't come up with your own story, talk with others. Perhaps they see something you can't just yet.
Another way to write a new hopeful future story is to have "as if" conversations. You might start off by saying, "Let's suppose I stop fertility treatments. How might I live as if this occurred?" Or "Let's suppose we save some money for adoption. How might I live as if this happened?" Insert any variety of suppositions and think of multiple "as if" scenarios.
- If your life was made into a wonderful movie with a happy ending, tell me what that last part of the movie would look like.
- If you wrote me a letter in a few years and it was filled with good news about your life, what would the letter say?
- If I read a story in the newspaper about some wonderful thing that happens to you next year, what would it be?
As you create this story, Dr. Lester suggests you "expand the narrative with content and characters." Create multiple endings to the same story. If you consider your life as a movie, what might three distinct but joyful endings be? If you can't come up with your own story, talk with others. Perhaps they see something you can't just yet.
Another way to write a new hopeful future story is to have "as if" conversations. You might start off by saying, "Let's suppose I stop fertility treatments. How might I live as if this occurred?" Or "Let's suppose we save some money for adoption. How might I live as if this happened?" Insert any variety of suppositions and think of multiple "as if" scenarios.
Some of these future stories seem scary.
I agree.
It's been a few years since I decided to stop infertility treatments. I'm in a new place now. I still think about it, I still grieve the children I never got to carry. I still mourn the loss of the dream of having a big family, a house full of noisy kids. I still get swept away by tears, and sometimes the grief of it all hits me out of nowhere. Now, I've found a new sense of peace. I have found my own value in new ways. With my husband, we have co-authored a new story. But, Rev. Dr. Luke A. Powery reminds us of an important proverb: "Don't forget the bridge that brought you over." This time between being in the thick of grief and finding a sense of peace is a bridge, a way to cross between the two, and we shouldn't forget it. In gently asking you to write a new story, I'm not asking you to forget that bridge. No one could ever ask you to do that. And they shouldn't. That bridge is a piece of your story forever. But it's a beautiful thing, to write a new one.
I'd encourage you not to write a future story alone. Seek out the ones you love and write a big, beautiful, bold story together. Remember you are not alone. You don't have to grieve alone, and you don't have to reconstruct a new future by yourself. There's strength to be gained by writing a new - and more hopeful - future story with those who value you and love you.
It's been a few years since I decided to stop infertility treatments. I'm in a new place now. I still think about it, I still grieve the children I never got to carry. I still mourn the loss of the dream of having a big family, a house full of noisy kids. I still get swept away by tears, and sometimes the grief of it all hits me out of nowhere. Now, I've found a new sense of peace. I have found my own value in new ways. With my husband, we have co-authored a new story. But, Rev. Dr. Luke A. Powery reminds us of an important proverb: "Don't forget the bridge that brought you over." This time between being in the thick of grief and finding a sense of peace is a bridge, a way to cross between the two, and we shouldn't forget it. In gently asking you to write a new story, I'm not asking you to forget that bridge. No one could ever ask you to do that. And they shouldn't. That bridge is a piece of your story forever. But it's a beautiful thing, to write a new one.
I'd encourage you not to write a future story alone. Seek out the ones you love and write a big, beautiful, bold story together. Remember you are not alone. You don't have to grieve alone, and you don't have to reconstruct a new future by yourself. There's strength to be gained by writing a new - and more hopeful - future story with those who value you and love you.
Ways to acknowledge the grief
This may seem out-of-place on the page about hope. But if we don't acknowledge the ways our grief can drag us down, we'll never be able to surface long enough to breathe in the hope.
Chapter 8 in Unsung Lullabies provides some rituals for grieving that accompanies infertility. Society hasn't taught us ways to grieve these kinds of losses, these "little deaths" (see the "Dreams Deferred" page of this mosaic). Here are some suggestions from the book:
For each monthly loss, once a month once "the dreaded period" arrives...
If you are mourning the loss of a pregnancy, plant a tree on the one-year anniversary. Some couples have chosen to gather with other couples to organize an event, such as a walk or a public memorial. Perhaps your local pastor or faith leader might consider conducting a service of healing and wholeness. (You can direct your faith leader to the "For Churches" page of this mosaic for references.)
The authors point out that the important thing is to acknowledge it in some way, and to physically do something. Read the whole chapter in Unsung Lullabies for more.
Chapter 8 in Unsung Lullabies provides some rituals for grieving that accompanies infertility. Society hasn't taught us ways to grieve these kinds of losses, these "little deaths" (see the "Dreams Deferred" page of this mosaic). Here are some suggestions from the book:
For each monthly loss, once a month once "the dreaded period" arrives...
- Go on a date with your partner.. Even if you already have something else scheduled, the authors say this is so important for partners to connect. You don't even have to talk about infertility; it gives you a way to connect as a couple.
- Go on a walk with your partner.
- Light a candle together.
- Buy each other flowers.
If you are mourning the loss of a pregnancy, plant a tree on the one-year anniversary. Some couples have chosen to gather with other couples to organize an event, such as a walk or a public memorial. Perhaps your local pastor or faith leader might consider conducting a service of healing and wholeness. (You can direct your faith leader to the "For Churches" page of this mosaic for references.)
The authors point out that the important thing is to acknowledge it in some way, and to physically do something. Read the whole chapter in Unsung Lullabies for more.
A couple more things...
If you have been trying infertility treatments for a long time, and the idea of stopping treatment is scary to you, I recommend reading Unsung Lullabies. Chapter 10 is specifically about this topic.
If you and your partner have a hard time agreeing on a new future story, chapter 11 in Unsung Lullabies has some advice. I'd also gently suggest you talk to your doctor, a therapist, or a pastor.
If you and your partner have a hard time agreeing on a new future story, chapter 11 in Unsung Lullabies has some advice. I'd also gently suggest you talk to your doctor, a therapist, or a pastor.