August 28, 2021 by Rachel
As I sit in the church pew as the worship team is practicing, I feel something happening. Of course, I run to the bathroom and see blood. Awesome... I’ve dealt with midcyle bleeding my whole infertility journey, but we have a lot taken steps to cure that. Well, clearly that didn’t work...
This waves of anxiety fills my mind and heart. Why is this happening? Nothing is "wrong" with me, as our doctor tells us. Why can’t I just be normal like everyone else? It is a horrible, endless cycle I’ve been in for over two years.
One of my sweet friends from church comes over and hugs me. I just start crying. She looks at me and says so gently “is today one of those days?”
I sob.
After we finish our conversation, I run to the back of the church to fix myself up, hopeful that no one has seen me. Taylor (my best friend and cousin), runs after me to check in on me. I assure her that I am okay and she goes back to her seat. I follow her.
Worship starts and I start crying again.
Wait... let me rephrase that, I start sobbing again... Tears, snot, horrible singing. The whole nine yards.
As I stood there crying, I couldn’t help but think to myself “Everyone is looking at me. How can I, myself, lead a support group when I am sitting here sobbing? I am such an imposter. I’m not strong, I’m as weak as they come!” I’m standing in the back of the church, hopeful that no one is looking at me.
My husband, Seth, comes to comfort me, but he himself ends up crying after I tell him the news of the blood I saw earlier. We share a very deep and emotional time, something we have shared frequently in our journey. At that point, I felt my weakest. "How can this be happening right now? We are in church! Isn’t God suppose to preform miracles?!"
As we are driving out of church, still sniffling from all the tears we just shed, I text Rebecca and tell her how I feel. She says to me...
“Rachel, we are starting a support group so we can have support too. What kind of leaders would we be if we weren’t real about our hard days too??” She was so right.
What kind of leader would I be if I told you it was easy? Or if I told you I don’t have hard days? Not a good one and not a real one! I’m here to tell you it’s okay to have hard days. It’s okay to feel like you failed. It’s okay to feel like you can’t catch a break. It’s okay to feel uncomfortable in your own skin. It’s okay to feel vulnerable. Allowing yourself to feel these emotions and give yourself grace is the only way to allow yourself to grow in this journey, and being open with your emotions is what will bring you support. I know that the women who will come to support group will relate to me because of what I am feeling.
My story is out in the open now. Everyone knows it, and part of me is scared of that. Judgment comes with that. Negativity comes with that. But beautiful friends and relationships can also come from that. Connections come from that. And it is these things that we need to carry on and make it through.
I will conclude with telling you :
I am Rachel, a Christian woman who cries at church every week.
I have really really hard days, or even whole weeks at a time.
I am still figuring it out and that’s okay.
But I’m here to be real with you and tell you how I take my journey in infertility in stride.
I asked my husband the other day, “but what if they judge me?”
He’s says to me...“Let them.”
Can you relate?
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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash