The State of My Uterus

For the last five years I have been on a journey through infertility.  It has sucked. It has not been the only, or major, thing in my life these last five years but it has been there, constantly, an unwelcome guest mostly hiding in the shadows but sometimes popping out unexpectedly to taunt me.  To grieve this frustrating and painful process doesn’t ignore the fact that so many wonderful things have happened in the last five years.  Grief, joy, frustration, and thankfulness can live side by side.

I’m writing this because I want to let you know where I am in the journey and let you know how to care for me.

I am 35, almost 36.  I have a six year old daughter who was conceived within 3 months of us trying.  My first pregnancy, which ended in a miscarriage was also conceived within 3 months of us beginning the process so I expected to easily get pregnant a third time.  But it didn’t happen.

I have watched my sister’s family grow from three kids to six, my brother’s grow from one to three. I have watched people get married then go on to have multiple children…all while I have waited and hoped.  I am currently walking through a season where everyone I work with who is married and hasn’t intentionally ended their childbearing years is pregnant or has given birth in the last year (or their wife has) which recently added up to 12 people…and I don’t work with a huge staff. I have rejoiced with those who rejoiced and allowed my friends to mourn with me as I mourned.

My infertility is connected to my body’s inability or unwillingness to release an egg every month.  Recently, it went over a year without doing so.  This doesn’t create any danger or discomfort for me but does make it very difficult to get pregnant. My body does release eggs sometimes so the possibility of getting pregnant still exists.  Which creates some unique challenges as I get older; I don’t really want to be surprised with a high-risk pregnancy at 40.

At the beginning of this summer Cory and I decided this was our last summer.  I’d ask my OBGYN some more questions, get some tests done, and if I wasn’t pregnant by the end we’d figure out where to go from there.  Toward the end of this summer, I’ve felt like God has been saying, “Let it go,” which, for me, meant let go of trying, at least for now.  It feels like permission, or direction, I’m really not sure which, to put things in place to prevent pregnancy.  He was inviting? encouraging? allowing? me to let go of the hope of pregnancy and to do so in a black and white way–through contraceptives–so that I can be free from wondering, free from taking pregnancy tests every 3-5 weeks, free from hoping.  It’s okay to let this dream be put to rest.

And even though I’m the one drawing the line in the sand (with a long-term not permanent form of contraception) I am still grieving. And I am reminding myself that it’s okay to mourn the thing you chose to let go of. mourn.png

I drove to my OBGYN this morning in a thunderstorm.  I sat in her office and did my best not to cry during the consult.  As I left I prayed that God would help me grieve well and as I sat in my car preparing to drive home the rain on my windshield mirrored the tears streaming down my face. I appreciated that the weather was sympathetic, that it did not taunt me with sunshine as if everything was right with the world because it is not.

I feel the need to preemptively defend my choice.  I’m only 35, a lot of women have healthy pregnancies after 35.  Why close the door today when I might have gotten pregnant tomorrow? There are a lot of good fertility aids, why not give them a try?  But I don’t have to defend my choice.  I’m not ending this five year struggle impulsively or irresponsibly; it has been heartbreaking for us to walk through.  So I’m preemptively asking you to not ask me questions like, “Have you considered..?” or to tell me stories about someone you know who was infertile got pregnant. I’m asking you not to challenge my decision; if you think I’m wrong, please pray and ask God to reveal that to me. You don’t have to say anything at all, but if you want to send a message or a card, the kindness of the gesture wouldn’t be lost on me. I have good friends and a wonderful husband who walk this journey with me; I am not alone.

We are open to adoption, we are open to foster care but we are not actively pursing either option right now.  We know that at any time God could surprise us with pregnancy despite contraception or that he could move our hearts to stop using contraception.  We love the little girl we have and don’t feel like our family is incomplete but do long for another child. I enjoyed being pregnant, enjoyed nursing, and enjoy seeing what a little human made up of both my DNA and Cory’s DNA looks and acts like and I’m mourning the loss of getting to do those things again.  There is a name that I have wanted to give to our next child and I am mourning the loss of getting to use that name.

Today my heart is heavy.  I’m thankful for the rain.  And the ability to work from home when I can’t quite stop crying.  I am thankful for the many people who will read this this an sympathize and empathize with me. I will grieve and I will keep moving. I just wanted to let you all know about the state of my soul as it relates to the state of my uterus.


I bought three containers of cream cheese today

I had “bagels & cream cheese” on my list.  Cream cheese was on a buy-two-get-one-free sale.  So I bought two and got one free.  A few months ago, I would have only bought one, because one was all we needed and all that we could afford because we were living on one income in an area that doesn’t lend itself well to thriving on a low income.  A few months ago, if we’d bought two to get the third one free we wouldn’t have been able to buy the bagels to go with the cream cheese.  That’s one of the sucky things about being poor, you can’t make as good of financial decisions as not-poor people.  You can’t buy in bulk, you can’t stock up when things are on sale, you can’t make these easy choices that can help save you money in the long run and help you get ahead.


When “Congratulations” Brings Unnecessary Anxiety

Sometimes it’s tough being a woman.*

Sometimes it’s tough being a woman who is struggling with infertility, just graduated from seminary, and is overweight.

Allow me to build my case.

First, I posted on Facebook that a friend had brought graduation to my house in the form of a cap and gown and snacks since I wasn’t able to fly across the country to attend my commencement ceremony. A lot of people liked this status on Facebook (also, a few people loved it, because we have that option now–thank you, Facebook!). A lot of those people attend the church where I am an associate pastor. So a lot of those same people will congratulate me when I see them at church tomorrow.I will appreciate that they are celebrating with me my completed the ThM because it was hard, and cost a lot, and took a long time.

Second, nearly every woman of childbearing age on staff at the church (or who is a wife of a man on staff) is pregnant or nursing and I’m struggling with infertility. My husband and I have been trying, unsuccessfully, for several years to get pregnant with child #2. It’s difficult enough, at times, to be surrounded by these women in all their pregnant glory, but it’s worse when people’s gazes shift inquisitively toward my midsection or when people have assumed I’m pregnant (either because I’m overweight and look like I could be pregnant or because people can’t seem to keep us ladies–the ladies who are on staff and the ladies who are married to men on staff–straight).

And so my fear is that tomorrow, when everyone is congratulating me on my graduation, the casual observer will assume it’s because I’m pregnant (because I am a women of childbearing age and I would bet that, statistically, that’s what we are congratulated on more than anything else, certainly more than graduating from seminary. I am not downplaying this, it is hard work to get pregnant–for some of us–and it is a very exciting thing–for most of us). I am anxious about the fact that someone might misinterpret someone else’s “Congratulations!” regarding seminary as a “Congratulations!” regarding pregnancy. I don’t know if I’m more anxious about the possibility of someone thinking I’m pregnant and not saying something to me or about the possibility of someone thinking I’m pregnant and saying something to me.

I would not have to worry about this is if I were an overweight male of childbearing age. And the sting wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t struggling with infertility.  And none of this would be an issue if I weren’t expecting to be showered with congratulations in a large church lobby tomorrow. But I am a woman of childbearing age who is overweight and struggling with infertility who will probably be congratulated a lot regarding my graduation. So tomorrow, when I go to work, I will be building relationships, answering questions, helping with baptism, and hosting a foster care awareness lunch while wrestling through a complex mix of emotions including joy at graduating, sorrow at being infertile, shame at being overweight while trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t think about or worry about what other people may or may not think.

And that is why I say: Sometimes it’s tough being a woman.

*I know that sometimes it’s tough being a man too. But the challenges in this post are particularly related to the fact that I’m female: bearing children, looking pregnant, people focused on my fertility, etc.

The thought of taking the summer off

I graduate on April 30th with my ThM. I will no longer be a student.  Perhaps at some point in my life a PhD will seem like a good idea. But it is not practical now so I can safely say I’m doing being a student for, what I assume will be, a long time.

I have been teaching online since roughly 2010.  Since then I have taught several in-person and online classes for undergraduates and seminary students at a variety of institutions.  I also recently taught a FLAME class (the Wesleyan version of non-accredited ministerial training). But this summer I am doing none of it. No teaching.  No grading. No studenting (that’s not a word, but it should be).

The thought of taking the summer off from being a student and being a professor is both thrilling and terrifying.   I’ve been working on my ThM for nearly a decade and have been either a Grad Fellow or adjunct professor nearly that whole time.  During that time my dad passed away, I  miscarried, given birth, switched jobs several times and moved three times…once across the country.  In the last year I became a full-time pastor, finished the requirements for my ThM, and moved to a nice little city along the shores of Lake Michigan.  I live a mile from the water.  I cannot imagine a better time in life to take a summer off and “only” have a full-time job as a pastor.


My daughter has never known me when I’m not in school or not teaching.  My husband has felt the effects of my education and teaching for 11 of the 13 years of our marriage (I started my MA shortly after our first anniversary and took one year off between ending my MA and beginning my ThM…I also worked three jobs then.

I’m looking forward to enjoying my life, not just my accomplishments.  I am looking forward to spending time with my family, to going to the beach ALL THE TIME, to wanting to read again, to being creative, to resting, to not having all of this hanging over my head and weighing me down.  I am looking forward to a break.  And it begins, officially, in 2 days.



We Can Do Hard Things

I found this in my drafts.  I’m not sure when I wrote it, but my guess is probably fall of 2015.  Even though life has changed pretty dramatically in the last year, there’s still truth in these words…

“We can do hard things”

I was reminded of this quote when reading Carry On, Warrior last week. And I believe that I can do hard things. It’s the little things, piled up, that are killing me right now.

It’s my daughter being unexpectedly ill for the last few days so my schedule is out of whack.
It’s missing a few days of work during a busy season (but, honestly, is any season not busy?).
It’s having a flight cancelled when I just want to get home.
It’s the power going out for three days and losing all the food in the fridge.
It’s the stress of having too many good opportunities and having to decide what to hold onto and what to let go of.
It’s my daughter waking up early the morning after I finally, intentionally, go to bed at a reasonable time.
It’s getting an email accusing you of leading others to sin because you invited them to join you for coffee or ice cream (no, really, that just happened).
It’s going to one more family function and making small talk with family members who have unfriended you on Facebook as if everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.
It’s the stress of not knowing if my husband will return from work encouraged and grateful that he gets to do what he does everyday or so frustrated that he wants to quit.

When you’re weary it doesn’t take a wrecking ball to knock you down; it just takes a small breeze.

There are breezes blowing all over the place.

A Prayer for the New Year


As we begin this year reflecting on your faithfulness and as we look forward with hope and anticipation, help us not to miss what you’re doing in the midst of us now.  In the chaos and brokeness, in the sadness and tension in fear, in the joy and gratefulness help us to see you, your character, and your relational-ness freshly and more fully.  Help us to see where you are active, shaping and refining us.  Help us to see your hand at work and your provision in our lives.

Shape our hearts to long for what you long for.  For hope, redemption, courage, perseverance, surrender, dependence on you, love, justice, mercy and generosity.

Let us see your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.  Make us sensitive to the movement of your Spirit as you invite us to be a part of revealing your presence and doing your work on earth.

We pray that you would give hope to the hopeless,
peace to those laden with anxiety,
light to those living in darkeness.

We pray for healing for sickness,
reconciliation in relationships,
freedom from sin.

We pray for more of you;
more experiencing your presence,
more seeing your miracles,
more of your conviction, love and power.

We pray that 2016 welcomes more of your wandering kids back home and that each person in this room will have the opportunity to having meaningful conversations with others about the grace and redemption they’ve experienced because of Jesus Christ.

We ask you to move.  In us and through us.  Help us not to miss it.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Hearing God’s Voice

Most often when God leads me it’s very subtle and I’m not aware it’s happening.  I’m jealous of the people who hear audible voices, have visions, dream dreams, who hear a consistent theme through songs, shows, conversations, etc.  I pray, I read my Bible I ask for advice, and then I make a good decision.  Every now and them I’m sure I need to say something or do something or I’m inspired to make a phone call or share my thoughts with a friend.  I’m always cautious to attribute this to God but often the fruit of these acts makes me think maybe it was from him.

Thankfully, I am not alone.

My friend, Michelle told me a story tonight.  On Sunday night she called her son into her room while she was folding laundry and asked about a friend of his whose mother is struggling with cancer.  She mentioned to her son how sad it would be if his friend’s mom passed away without having the opportunity to know Jesus and then asked if his friend’s family went to church anywhere. [pause:  Michelle has a huge heart, is very thoughtful and caring, she is committed to Jesus, but these kinds of words don’t usually come out of her mouth in this way]  When he said that he didn’t think so she suggested maybe he should invite him to youth group.  On Monday he invited his friend.  On Wednesday he went to youth group…and wanted to stay longer.  Tonight he came and served at a community outreach.  On Sunday he’s planning to come to church.

She said she knew where the words came from…the Holy Spirit…but that she’s not sure how because she didn’t hear God talking to her.  Still, she knew there was more to what she was saying than she would normally say herself.  She may not be sure how it happened, but she’s sure it did.

We ask for him to speak and lead, we obey when we’re sure it’s him and we make the best decisions we can along the way and are sometimes surprised when he leads without us realizing it.