We call her HOPE.

We went public yesterday.  It started around 7am as Trey was leaving for work and I realized that I’m already having trouble bending over.

I looked down and saw this:

…and I couldn’t help myself.  “This” becomes more real every day.  As excited as we are, I’m still really struggling; forget the fact that I already suffer from extreme anxiety.  But we’re still heartbroken.  Don’t get me wrong, we couldn’t be more happy that this has finally happened for us, but there are still so many who are still walking the inconsolable pain that we came to know VERY WELL.  And to be honest, that’s why we decided VERY early on (pre-pregnancy) that we would not go public when it finally happened.  Buttttt…. my mother-in-law really, REALLY wanted to share.  And my birthday had family members hinting on my Facebook page.  And re-answering the question of “When will you put it on facebook?” was getting old.  I guess maybe that’s why we decided I’d instagram it instead….??  Maybe.

The thing is, we truly believe that God chose us for this journey to be a voice.  You can read about that here.  There isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t see my bump and pray hard and long for every couple I know that is in their waiting.  And I guess that’s when it hit me yesterday… just because “it” finally happened for us, we were never sanctioned to silence in the process.  Now more than ever, our voice can be heard.  And it has been.  If our 100 something “likes” spread the word, then to us, it was worth it.  And now our prayer is that our 1 in 8 friends would feel that same support; that they would see Hope in the bump.

I clearly remember seeing the bump photos of our acquaintances, our friends who knew, even our own family– and it was the darkest, most toxic feeling I’ve ever experienced.  In my mind they were selfish, uncaring, even ignorant of the pain it was causing us.  Trey and I got in a huge fight because he lied (by omission) about some friends… apparently he knew for months but was trying to “protect” me and decided not to tell me.  I have the most perfect husband in the world, but Lord knows, even the bravest warrior can’t protect an infertile woman from these feelings.  If you’ve never walked the path of infertility, consider this your pass for not completely understanding, but also consider this: acknowledgement is the kindest, most selfless thing you can do (at least it was for us…) and I think others too.

When we decided to go public after all, we did so with this in mind…. ACKNOWLEDGEMENT.  A few months ago, at the start of IVF, I reached out to every woman and couple I knew on the same or a similar path to ours.  I had a million times the hope then compared to the hope I had at our last transfer; I wanted to be intentional when our day came and tell each and every one of them…personally.  I really tried to.  Trey did too.  We stuck to it, from the moment we had our first blood test.  I didn’t want to wait.  Partly because I knew we needed every prayer and good thought imaginable; but more so because we had a glimmer of hope–and I wanted that for them too.  That’s been every prayer since.  EVERY.SINGLE.PRAYER. since.

Lord, please just give them HOPE.

When I say I’m really struggling this is why.  It’s like I’m jealous and broken {of us} and our happiness… on their behalf.  Please don’t misread that– not every infertile woman is jealous or worse yet “broken.”  NO!  We’re a tribe of strong heroes.  But our hope– it’s like each passing announcement is digging away leaving little pieces of our hope behind.  And that drowns me– even still.  And even still, we’re overwhelmed with JOY.  What a strange dichotomy that I might never fully understand.  I would be lying if I didn’t tell you this: me… more so than Trey (though probably by just a smidgeon), wanted to hide our joy from the others “to protect them.”  See what happened there.  God spoke and said, that wasn’t fair.  And it also wasn’t what He intended when He gave us these strong voices.

So….if you missed the public announcement– I’m publishing it here.  Our goal wasn’t ever to rub our joy in your faces… but to rub a stronger and more intentional hope.  So if you read it, please read it again… only this time– meeting our intent.   PS. My husband? –he did a brilliant job.

Nicole and I are beyond thrilled to share the news of the newest additions to our family. We have tried from the moment we were married to grow our family and over the last 2 and half years we were unwillingly forced to become a statistic. We are 1 in 8.  1 in 8 couples suffer the pain of infertility.  While we have so much joy, we still face so much heartache knowing all too well the pain that our announcement may cause others.  It’s the same pain that we felt for a very long time, and a pain that some have known for even longer.  We even silenced our own parents from excitingly sharing our news to be sensitive to others.  So please, don’t just look at this as another pregnancy announcement, but as a chance to learn about the 1 in 8. We ask that in the midst of your gladness for us and the twins we will meet in March, that you remember the others too. Pray for us, all of us.

I posted something on my photography page too:

We’ve debated for a long time about sharing our news publicly with the purest intentions to not cause any more pain to so many who we know that walk through a similar valley.  In the end we decided on HOPE because those of you who have known our struggles have given it so freely to us, and we want to pay it forward.  SO BEHOLD, our very own little miracles growing every day, a little more.  Let this be our message of hope.  A hope to our other 1 in 8 friends that your miracles can happen too, and a hope that you, the other 7, will learn a sensitivity and a deepened awareness to the disease of infertility.  It’s not a bad word and it’s okay to talk about it.

I don’t know that this post has a real purpose.  I mean obviously a purpose to coach the *fertiled*.  But I think there’s so much more to it, so much more to learn.  Like for example how infertility IS a DISEASE.  And how for TOO LONG it’s been a taboo topic.  1 in 8!  Think of eight friends– one of them (maybe it’s us) knows this pain… And I’m hoping you have more than eight friends?  If you do, chances are you know more than one who knows this pain.  Isn’t that insane?!

It’s not any different than being sensitive to a friend who has celiac disease, or fibromyalgia, or lyme.  So be there to acknowledge their hopelessness to give them the hope we all so desperately need and want!  And if you don’t know how to– don’t worry I’ll be addressing that in my next post…… to come…soon-ish.

In the meantime– don’t call this (down below) our bump.  We’ve decided to call her our Hope.

I listened to this song while I was writing today… and as part of the hope I’m sharing, these words for you too: The sun, it does not cause us to grow.  It’s the rain that will strengthen your soul; it will make you whole.  We have lived in fear and our fear has betrayed us.  We will overcome.