One year ago today, Scott and I woke up on a Sunday, but it wasn't our usual Sunday. Sundays usually are a whirlwind of a day. We wake up early, scramble to get ready in order to get to church for our 7:45 a.m. meeting with the rest of the staff.
This Sunday was different though.
I hadn't slept well in anticipation for what would happen this Sunday morning. I tried my best to be well rested, but my mind was going. They say to relax because stress isn't good, but by golly, a lot was weighing on this day. We woke up--a little awkward silence as we got ready. We tried our best to act relaxed and cool---while inwardly, stressing out beyond belief, scared, nervous, and feeling like we could cry at any moment.
We pulled up to the fertility clinic for our third IUI procedure while praying over and over again, "please let this work, please let this work..."
I clung to Psalm 17:6 "I am praying to you because I know you will answer, O God. Bend down and listen as I pray. Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways."
And here we are, one year later and we have a 3 month old. A beautiful, squishy, and perfect "little" girl named Andie Jane. Grateful doesn't even begin to capture how Scott and I feel today. Last week was National Infertility Awareness Week and all I could think about was how I had felt for so many months and now I hold the biggest desire and prayer of my life in my arms.
However, as joyous as I am and excited about celebrating today and to celebrate my first Mother's Day this upcoming Sunday, a part of me also grieves for those who are still waiting. I know how painful Sunday can be (and everyday for that matter) and even in my excitement and joy, I carry guilt. I have a sense of guilt because I have to ask, "Why me and not her?" I don't have an answer, and I probably never will. So I may smile and laugh, but my heart breaks for so many.
As I celebrate today the gift of Andie Jane and the gift of doctors and catheters, I stand in solidarity with those who still wait. Those that are walking the most painful path I have ever known. Those that sit and hope and pray day after day. Those that have experienced loss. I wish I could hug all of you and give hope, strength, and comfort on all the hard days. I pray no matter the outcome, you will find joy and peace.
Here is a picture of Andie Jane from this morning. She sure looked a lot different a year ago. I think she is cuter now.