We are incredibly blessed. A year ago tomorrow, we bought this house and moved in on April 2nd–which we’re calling our official journey (not to get all Bachelor on you) start date. Which means Monday it will be exactly a year! We’ll be celebrating our first House-iversary all next week on the blog as we reflect back on what an amazing year it has been sharing every detail about slowly making this house into our home. We have made hundreds of new, virtual friends (and real-life friends, too) this past year and our little blog has turned into a place where we feel comfortable and excited to share our feats and failures on the daily. We have shared a mix of large-scale renovations, quick DIY projects, budget-friendly ways to revamp your spaces, some splurge items, all mingled with a few personal stories to make sure you readers know we’re real people, too. Today is one of those personal story days to remind you we’re human and have trials just like everyone else.
There is a room in our home that we have been waiting to use and design and fill. A door that remains shut and is opened so infrequently most people don’t even know we have it. We have shared renovations and plans for almost every room in our house over the past year except one, the third upstairs bedroom. The second nursery. Greta’s future sibling’s room. And while we are over-sharers about almost every aspect of our lives, the feelings and emotions about our big, fat trial called “secondary infertility” has remained on hush. As another unsuccessful month is being put behind us, I think it might be time to open up about that closed door.
In November of 2010, when Greta was only 9 months old, Chris and I were eager to have another baby. I remember thinking, “I wish we could just have the baby without the pregnancy part.” Pregnancy has never been easy for me, so the decision to have another baby was purely based on our overwhelming love for Greta-girl. My first pregnancy, shortly after we were married, was a heterotopic one–two babies, one inside the uterus and one outside. I lost both. After that physically and emotionally painful experience, we decided to wait a year to recover. My pregnancy with Greta, that made me 15 pounds lighter because of all the sickness, took us by surprise two months later. There are no quick surprises this time around. Our 9 month old that we had when we started trying is now almost 2 months pass the two-year mark which means we have been praying and trying for our second surprise for a whopping 16 months.
It’s kinda funny (and by that I mean frustrating, although a little interesting, too) how just because my body did something once before–I have no guarantee that it can do it again. To quote this article (which puts my feelings into words far better than I ever could),
“I fully appreciate that I am infinitely luckier than all those who are unable to conceive at all – either through infertility, timing or sheer bad luck – but that doesn’t make the pain any easier to bear.
What I could not have known before my daughter was born was that infertility is infertility, plain and simple, whenever it occurs. I had no idea that trying for a second child would be like starting with a blank page; that my accumulated wisdom and experience of motherhood would count for nothing in terms of conception.”
I can’t help but feel guilty when Greta props herself up on the chair in the living room and stares outside at the kids, a little too young to be included in their crowd. It breaks my heart, when she waves so enthusiastically at any child in the grocery store and overwhelms them with “hi’s!!” and they rarely say “hello” back. I pray every day I could give her a sibling. A live-in best friend and playmate. Chris and I would much rather fill the rooms of this house with children than material objects.
And despite many months of failed attempts, we’re still hopeful and positive about the whole thing. At least today I am. Yesterday, my swollen eyes and broken heart were a different story. So, that’s a peak into where our lives are right now. I have seen my doctor and there aren’t any immediate answers to secondary infertility. It is so easy to put off further medical intervention when we’re so hopeful and say, “This is our month!” Every month. Last year, we didn’t plan this summer’s vacation because we were so sure we would have a newborn. We have done this a lot over the last 16 months and after postponing life events month after month, we have now decided to focus more on living in the now. This morning we bought season passes to the water park. I finally bought a plane ticket to my sister’s wedding in May. Now I know, I probably won’t have to find a dress to hide any sort of bump–which means I can wear the pencil skirt I’ve been eyeing. And next week, I think I’ll open the door to that 3rd bedroom and start making plans to turn it into something we can enjoy now–like a playroom!!
You see, we’re normal people that have to work through big trials just like everyone else. We feel beyond blessed to have so many good things going for us to focus on: Our little girl. Our big, work-in-progress house to keep us busy. You readers that keep us motivated. Warmer weather rolling in. Our families (who we can’t wait to see this weekend)! A loving, Heavenly Father who has blessed us with these gifts and trials that have made Chris and I closer than ever.
Lest I ever forget how blessed I am: