Strength & Resilience

I've been thinking about this post that my sweet blog friend, Kimberly, wrote ever since I read it yesterday morning.  Kimberly's post is about strength and resilience when dealing with infertility and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind.  If you haven't read it, you should.  And if you do read it, I hope it brings you to some of the same realizations that it brought to me.

When I think about my infertility (which I do... all.day.long), I think about the heart ache, pain and sadness that it has brought into my life.  And with every passing day, it has only gotten worse.  My heart aches more with every single day that passes.  When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a hurt woman.  I see depression.  I see weakness.  In fact, not only do I see the weakness that stares back at me, but I feel that weakness.  I feel it with each and every monthly bout of cramps I get signaling that my period is just around the corner.  And I feel it with swollen eyes that sting from the tears that fall down my cheeks every night as I go to bed and silently say my prayers.

I tend to focus so much on the despair that infertility has caused me, that I've almost never thought about the strength and resilience that it's given me (truth: I'd much rather be pregnant than be strong or resilient, but I digress).

I have a co-worker who has become a dear friend to me and who knows about my infertility journey, in detail.  She hasn't experienced infertility herself, but has experienced a terrible loss which has allowed her to relate to the extreme pain and sadness that I feel on a daily basis.  She also is about fifteen years older than me, with children in elementary school (the scorned infertile that I am notes this because it means that I most likely don't have to worry about her announcing a pregnancy any time soon).  There have been many times that I've come into work and have shared my sadness with my co-worker/friend.  I've told her about bad nights and bad weekends that I just couldn't seem to get myself together because I'd been plagued by the horribleness of infertility.  In those instances, my co-worker/friend would always respond with the utmost empathy and would then look me straight in the eyes and tell me that when she looks at me she sees strength.  In fact, she tells me that I'm one of the most strong people that she's ever met (ha!).  When I hear this, I have to laugh.  I normally roll my eyes at her and continue on with my day. 

Strong?!  Me?!  The person who pretty much cries herself to sleep every night?  Who's let most of her friendships slip because she can barely focus on anyone but herself (and her bad eggs and faulty uterus)?  Whose infertility has literally taken over her life?!  Nah... that's not me.  I'm the weak girl over there in the corner, ashamed of herself and of her failure of a body.  The girl whose eyes reflect heart ache, pain and sadness.  Sadly, that's really how I think of myself (thanks, infertility). 

Actually, it's how I thought of myself...

Kimberly, your post truly brought tears to my eyes.  It one hundred percent took my breath away.  It was like a light bulb went off in my head...

I AM strong.  I AM resilient.

I know that infertility is something that will always make me sad.  It will always cause me pain.  And it will always break my heart.  But, I now see that it's also something that has made me stronger and more resilient.  I will not give up on my miracle baby.  My strength and my resilience will carry me through the saddest and most painful of days.  I know that because it's already carried me through the sad and painful days so far (all of them). 

I pray that with God's help, my strength and resilience will continue to shine through, even if just a little.  Enough to continue to carry me through the sad and painful days that are sure to lie ahead on this most tumultuous and difficult journey.