Most every morning, I wake up and my heart is full. It overflows with the joy that is Samuel. During the day I have blips where it takes me a minute to remember I'm Mommy. (Although I haven't heard him call me that!) I get to see all the fun things he's learning right now. The crawler- the ninja destructor who demolishes and touches everything in his path. He's a speed demon. And my floors have never been so clean. iRobot is his favorite toy and they clean at all hours of the day together. The learning of new foods and textures, of nature and life. His laughter. Even his anger. I find something wonderful in all of it. The fastest (almost) year of my life has flown by and with it comes, most every moment, joy unmeasurable. My heart stings when I think I am already planning his 1st birthday party and most of all his "firsts" in the first year are drawing to a close. But then I think about him eating his first cake. And I smile again. Oh, that chunky monkey. Then, there are other days. Not full days, but blips - moments - seconds - that hit my heart. I forget how to get a deep breath. It might be pictures of newborns, posts of gender reveals, pregnancy announcements, details of another's beautiful journey of becoming a mother, thinking of those "first year firsts" drawing to a close and how I may never get the chance to do them again, or seeing in my minds eye for just a second the baby boy or baby girl that does have Thomas' eyes and my nose while I watch my beautiful gift play in my living room. It's then, that, infertility and adoption collide. It's then that I'm reminded that although I have joy unmeasurable crawling all over my heart, I also have the scars and sometimes new holes where infertility hangs on. I choose to cling to, claim, and strive to live my life as Jesus calls us all too. For His glory. My story is and will forever be the collision of adoption and infertility. There would not be a Samuel in my life without my story of our infertility. That miraculous phone call wouldn't have happened without the numerous other moments of despair. But, even though I am called mommy, I am still called infertile. My heart still longs. Still grieves. And still hopes. It's then that I have to call upon Jesus and He fills me up again with the joy that is Samuel, the hope that is He, and the grace and love that is for us all. As the new year began, we also learned some news about my condition that causes our infertility. Without going into way too much detail, basically, as we will never give up the hope of having our own children because we know God works in mysterious ways and in glorious un-foldings; we also know, however, medically speaking, it's gonna take that and a whole lot of other "work." I don't know where you are in your story, but I am in a place (and was WAY before Samuel came), that I was just done. I didn't want anymore tests, anymore, shots, anymore planned encounters....Nothing. I just wanted my marriage and my heart back. So, it will take us a while to get back to a point where we can actually talk biological children again and we pray that those miraculous moments happen when He desires it to. But if we ever get the point where our decision lies between more in depth treatments and giving "up" as they say, we feel in our hearts, we choose adoption again and again. And then once again, infertility and adoption collide. Because adoption is oh so amazingly beautiful and healing, but infertility leaves holes and scars that weren't suppose to be there. Infertility is becoming more and more prominent in our world. I don't know if more people are talking about it or if more people are dealing with it. I do know that the statistic that says 1 in 8 couples dealing with infertility is way too many couples. I wish I knew the cure. I wish I knew how to give me and every struggling couple a biological baby. I wish I could give them joy. I wish I could give them more of Christ. I wish I could show them and teach them what the Lord has shown and taught me. All I can do is give them love and prayer. For you, struggling friend are never far from my heart. I love you and I love your strength to keep going. Keep fighting that monthly battle of grief. I know Christ makes all things new and He works all things for our good. I have to believe that somewhere and somehow, you'll find your joy. Whether it be a child or it be contentment for where you are. In my own journey, I opened up to the social media world about what our path looked like Mother's Day Weekend 2016. Little did I know that in 21 days, the Lord had exactly what He'd been telling me about coming. I was getting monthly shots, shutting my system down, fighting my issues, and fighting my body that fights me. I was weary. I was broken. I was so deep in the refining fire that I didn't see the other side. But the Lord found me. He told me just as Exodus 14:!4 says, Be Still, the Lord will FIGHT for you, To. Be. Still. He laid on my heart that I had something big coming. That He had already worked it all out. I did NOT believe it was going to be 21 days later. I did NOT believe it would be a baby boy. I only believed that He was doing my fighting and He was taking care of business. My mother was even hearing from Him these words over and over: "He makes all things new." I truly, deep in my soul, believe, that if Samuel had not been born and not been brought into my life, I still would have found joy and contentment because that is where the Lord had brought me thus far in my journey. Would my darker days have been more than blips? Definitely not. They would still be there and I'd have to continuously call out the Savior and be reminded of where He had me. Would my last (almost) year had the same amount of joy and laughter? I'd like to think so, but let's be honest, A) there is no way it would have been because we know infertility sucks and B) that kid is CUTE. ;) Would I have been taking a look back on the last year as we embark on Infertility Awareness Week and been writing a blog on how it collides in my world with adoption? No. But I would have been content. As content as a fleshly, sinful, questioning, OCD (EEK) daughter of the King could be. Because God brings contentment. God brings joy. His plans are not our plans and that can suck so bad you want to quit, believe me, I get it. But God is God. And when you can get to that point where you know He's good and who He says He is, Be Still. And Let Him Fight. And you might have something in your world, totally unexpected, collide. And then again, you might not. Sadly, I don't know your story. I can't make it perfect. I can't make it better. But I do know the end of all of our stories. And it's so very glorious. I pray we can all cling to that as we fight the good fight with our Warrior by our side. As this week progresses, you may see people post, you may see people open up their hearts to the world about their hurts, their journey. I ask that you love and be kind to these people. Infertility is just as demanding, time sensitive, grief filled, financially draining as any other sickness and disease and much less awareness is given to it. I do not lessen what anyone else is going through, I just ask that you see us. Us who are longing. Wherever or however we are longing. You see those that are living with infertility with no child, those who have one and want more, those who have fostered or adopted and want their own, those who continuously lose their children rather in early on stages of pregnancy or later.... it's all infertility and it's all so painful. Whatever the reason for your pain right now, I do sincerely pray you find comfort in the Savior. Let's make a point to be there for each other. God's love displayed here on Earth. I am a mommy. I love my baby boy. I cannot begin to imagine my life, and more often than not, his life, without the treasure that was handpicked for my heart and our family. I am also an infertile woman who longs to feel, hold, and see that baby that looks like us. The woman who knows the grief that each month can bring. The tears that can fall out of the blue. Two worlds colliding. It's joy and pain all wrapped up in this thing called life. It's a ride that is forever rode more gracefully with the King at the wheel. Hallelujah, What a Savior. by Mallory
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