To Bethany

(Last night I told the ladies in my Bible Study that J & I have moved forward and made an appointment with an infertility doctor. One of the ladies, Bethany, asked me what I was afraid of.)


Last night you asked me what I was afraid of. And I answered that I was afraid that nothing could be done. But the more I think about it, the more I think that is probably the dumbest answer out there. I mean, didn't we just spend the last few weeks discussing how mighty our God is? How He can raise people from the dead? How He can provide exactly what is needed (like the ram)?

I'm not afraid that nothing can be done, because I know that if it is God's will, it will be done. What I'm afraid of is myself. Throughout this study we talked about functional gods and personally mine is success. I'm afraid I will fail. I'm afraid the doctor will tell me to lose weight and I won't be able to. I'm afraid it will cost more money than we can save up. I am afraid I will not be patient enough. I'm afraid that I'm a Sarai when I should be a Hannah.

But it's more than being afraid. I am sad. Even though seeking medical attention was always something I thought we'd have to do, there is a difference in figuring that eventually you'll have to go to a doctor and actually making the appointment...  I am sad because I want to give my husband a child. I have wanted that since before we even got engaged, and every year I told myself the time wasn't right and that I should re-assess in one year. I have waited the "appropriate" amount of time, I have graduated college, I have gotten a good job, I have paid off most of our debt. I have done the responsible thing, so why not now? Why shouldn't this happen?

I am sad because, honestly, not being able to do this naturally (yet -- there's still hope that it could happen naturally during this process) makes me feel a little less like a woman. To me, this is the ultimate form of femininity. And it's something I can't achieve on my own. It feels like this is a huge part of what I was born to do. Around here, that is what women do. In fact last week during nursery your daughter asked me where my baby was. I told her I didn't have one, but she couldn't seem to grasp that adult women don't have babies. She asked me if my baby was at home. She asked me if my baby was in my tummy. (I'm not saying that to make you feel uncomfortable. It didn't make me uncomfortable or sad or anything like that. It was cute and she was sweet. This is just the perfect example of what is expected of women here... even toddlers know that girls grow up and become mommies) It's funny how living in a small town in the South is a lot like living in the Old Testament in that regard.