A letter to myself on the morning of my hysterectomy…


For 21 years, I have prayed for a baby of my own. This morning, I will need to accept His answer.

The finality of this moment stings with an intensity that I cannot seem to find the right words for. My brain races endlessly as my head argues with my heart. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind, I have always believed that if I was supposed to have a baby, it would happen. My God is certainly able to heal a broken uterus and my heart found rest in that truth…but here I am 21 years later…staring in disbelief at an empty hourglass and an IV needle. Today, every fiber of my being screams towards heaven and sobs with an ache that words cannot adequately describe.

I am not very open about my infertility. If it does come up, people react in weird, unpredictable ways. Everyone has a solution. Through the years, I have had to politely listen to countless stories about women who have had a difficult time conceiving, been emailed bizarre home remedies, told to change my diet, told to pray harder (maybe fast for a week). If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that I just needed to “relax and it will happen when you least expect it”, I could have funded a round of IVF treatments. It seems that people are ready to offer up anything and everything but the acknowledgement that this could actually be a medical condition. At this point, if I do talk about it, I minimize the issue or resort to humor so that other people don’t feel uncomfortable and we can just move forward to a new topic.

I have felt many different ways about my “situation”. Over the past two decades, I have been consumed in rage, then choked out by sadness. At times, I was so bitter that I refused to go to baby showers and resisted the urge to pelt pregnant women with hard candy. I have blamed myself. I have blamed God. I have tried to end my life. I have retreated within myself and refused to speak about it and I have also had periods of time where I spoke about it too much. At one point, I even enjoyed a brief era of indifference. I’ve had so much time to deal with this reality but somehow I am still not ready.

It doesn’t go away with time.

It doesn’t go away because you have had the privilege of raising someone else’s child.

It doesn’t go away because you love your husband, or your life, or your career.

It’s not fair and it has never made sense

I will not “get over this”. This is quite simply the greatest loss I have ever known.

I’ve thought a lot about whether or not I wanted to share this publicly. At this point, I have spent more years NOT talking about my infertility as I have acknowledging it. It’s not like I have any answers to offer. I just feel like our lives are not supposed to be about us. We aren’t supposed to just run off to a corner and lick our wounds silently. What comes into your life, what crosses your path, what you are chosen and trusted to deal with – THAT is your story. And your story is not your own. The lessons that you learn along the way are gifts – and they are not yours to hoard. Maybe there is somebody out there today that is just like me – totally overwhelmed by the why’s in their life and they need to read this. Maybe not. Maybe I just need to read it to myself 100 more times so that I can stay centered on what is true. I guess time will tell.

I am not here to pretend that I am ok. Nothing about this ok. Today, I am mad – but that’s alright. God is big enough to handle my mad. Sometimes life just sucks. You don’t receive a “get out of pain” card just because you are a Christian. He did not promise me that He would save me from the flames but HE HAS promised to be with me as I walk through the fire. He’s not going to leave me here to get through this alone. I am not ready for how this feels. Right now, the only thing that I am certain about is that every moment of this pain serves an ultimate purpose or it would not be happening. Inherent in our faith is the absolute truth that God IS in control – this includes the circumstances that He allows into our lives. EVERY experience that comes into our lives has to pass through His hands as well as His heart – and no one loves us more. Everything that happens to you is FOR you. He will give me exactly what I need to get through today and then He will give me exactly what I need to get through tomorrow – because He is good. I am still in His hands, right where I am supposed to be and although I may not be able to understand the “why”, I DO NOT HAVE TO. I just have to trust myself to the God who created me – because He will never fail me.