One line just means that the test is working correctly; you need two lines for a positive pregnancy test. I used to take tests sometimes in the first year, when every little symptom was cause for hope that the other line might appear. I don’t usually bother now. The only time that I’ve had two lines on a test, it’s been an ovulation predictor one. I don’t use those anymore either; I know my body so well now that I don’t need to.
The Challenges of Hope
“Don’t give up hope,” Some people say, but what does it mean to hope? Hope is one of my favourite words. I can’t imagine living without it, but sometimes hope can be the hardest thing to live with. How do you keep on hoping month after month when every cycle ends with gut-wrenching disappointment? In the beginning, I was highly expectant and hopeful that any twinge I felt must be implantation taking place. Six and a half years later, I no longer hope in the same way; I couldn’t sustain it.
What makes hope difficult is when its very presence prevents us from going through the necessary grieving process. In that sense, infertility is a difficult one because each month is a roller-coaster of hope and disappointment. I already know that one of my fallopian tubes is blocked. There are concerns that, following a post-surgery infection, the other one may have become blocked too. I’m due to have another test to find out. I hope that it isn’t, and I hope that I can go on to get pregnant. If it were blocked, it would be considered medically impossible for me to get pregnant naturally. What then? I could seek hope in IVF, but we’ve decided not to go down that route, for reasons that I don’t wish to blog about. It is not the purpose of this blog to discuss the pros and cons of fertility treatment. We each have to make our own, informed decision. I could hope that God does a miracle. I believe in miracles. I know that they happen; I also know that they don’t always happen. I hope for one, but I don’t take it for granted and I don’t place all of my hope in that. What if the other fallopian tube is blocked and what if there’s no miracle? What then? Am I even allowed to ask that question? Who will stand with me through the grief of facing up to that possibility? Sometimes I’ve been criticised for daring to go there. “You have to keep hoping!” I may be reprimanded. “Where is your faith?”
Biblical Examples of Infertility.
As a Christian going through infertility, I am faced with the Biblical examples of women such as Rachel, Sarah, Hannah and Rebekah, all women who went through infertility and went on to become mothers. They give hope to many, and they tell me that God cares deeply about the pain of infertility. Sometimes, however, it can be difficult to grieve the pain in light of the hope that their stories give us. I wonder if there will ever come a time when people stop asking me when I’m going to have children or stop telling me that it will happen when it’s meant to. I think of the example of Elizabeth, who according to the Bible had clearly gone through the menopause some time before her miraculous conception, and I wonder if I will still have these comments even after the menopause. Does there ever come a time when it’s considered acceptable as a Christian to let go of hope and face the pain? What is the alternative?
Hope That Sustains
I’ve already been told by a Dr. that it’s considered unlikely that I will get pregnant naturally. After being told that, I took the time out to grieve. I needed to. I faced the possibility that we may never have biological children, and I wept. I attended a Christian retreat shortly afterwards, and I remember a wonderful lady who sat near to me as I took the time to process and to grieve. She gave me the space that I needed at that time, prayed for me from a distance and brought me more tissues as needed! I was so grateful for her care and that she didn’t impose hope on me. Perhaps the word impose sounds out of place when used together with hope, but that is what it can feel like. I needed to be free to face the possibility of my hope not being fulfilled. I needed to face that possibility, and I needed to let go. In the process I realise that I never let go of hope at all, I merely redefined what hope means for me in the midst of more long-term infertility. On other occasions, I have received prayer for a miracle. I’m not opposed to such prayer, but it cannot be imposed. I have prayed for a miracle. I still do. I still hope that I can become a mother as I hope that I won’t have another MS episode, and I hope that I’ll be able to continue to walk. I hope that they’ll find a cure for MS or that I’ll be miraculously healed, but I have to be free to consider the alternatives. Please don’t hold me a prisoner to hope! What if those hopes come crashing down around me as they already have on several occasions? Hope that only survives a positive outcome is not enough to sustain. We live in a world that is no longer the perfect world that God originally created. I cannot escape that reality.
Where Do I Find Hope?
I look to the cross, and it is there that I see pain and suffering combined with hope. It’s there that I can face the reality of my pain and yet still find hope. Crucifixion is a long drawn out excruciating way to die. I see a place of despair. The disciples had placed all of their hope in how Jesus would bring about change. They struggled to understand that he wouldn’t take political power and that he would appear weak, broken and defeated. When I see despair, I see it not in the face of Jesus, but in the absence of most of his closest friends and followers. They weren’t there when he died. They didn’t know what to do with their fear and disillusionment. Their hope had been more in what Jesus would do for them than in Jesus Himself, because they didn’t understand. For me, one of the most convincing arguments for the truth of the resurrection is the dramatic change that took place in these disciples. The very same people who had abandoned him in fear were later prepared to risk their lives, to suffer threats and persecution, and to die for their testimony that He rose from the dead and that they’d seen Him. They had found a hope that surpassed and survived the challenge of their earthly circumstances. That’s the kind of hope that I want to live by.
Now, rather than waiting expectantly each month, I tend to go for the option that if I get pregnant it will be a nice surprise. Likewise with multiple sclerosis, I hope for the best but am not blind to what may happen. Since there are so many variations of how things could go wrong, I really don’t waste time thinking about them but I’m not in denial. I’ve grieved as much as I’ve needed to up until today. I will deal with the future in the future. Nevertheless, my experience is that facing the possibility of the “worst case scenario” and imagining having hope even in that dark place, is more sustainable than an unrealistic proclamation of future optimism. I’m free to live in the moment with all the joy and the pain that is part of that. I’m free to hope without being a prisoner to hope.
Phew… this is raw, honest, deep stuff. I think you’ve successfully put into words what I hadn’t yet been able to articulate: “… free to hope without being a prisoner of hope.” And the question of is there a time when it’s okay for a Christian to let go of hope is a tough question, let completely legitimate. I think you’re right about re-defining what hope looks like or what it means at certain points. Thanks for doing some heavy thinking and putting it out there for us to ponder.
HI lisa, Yes it does feel raw and honest but also liberating to say it 😉 I know those of us on the infertility roller.coaster may come to this point at different times in our journies, and for those who end up getting pregnant they may not ever need to face the idea of letting go of hope. But I guess when it doesn’t happen and we reach the “end of the road” with options that we’re willing to try or keep on trying, then these are the tough questions that we might ask ourselves. I’m still pondering it all too! It’s a process that will probably last a life time.
Hmmmm giving up hope. I know my faith and hope is in Jesus. However nowhere does it say the road will be easy or the way we want it. I don’t know if I gave up hoping but I did make decisions based on ethical principles relating to my own infertility that could be viewed by an outsider as “giving up”. These are views that I don’t express to my patients but are the guide to my path. I’m not giving up on hoping for children, but am becoming accustomed to the idea that getting divorced when I’m 37 doesn’t leave much room for meeting someone, settling down and applying for adoption (before I’m 40). All I’ve ever hoped for is to be a mum. Various circumstances /obstacles are in my path which I’ve yet to navigate and the unknown and unknowable is the scariest part of my journey. So my hope is placed where it needs to be but it doesn’t stop the yearning or hurting.
(((HUGS))) Ems. No, our hope being where it needs to be really doesn’t stop the yearning or hurting. This is a tough and painful journey 🙁 Like you, I guess some might consider my decision not to pursue certain treatments, or even not to proclaim the certainty of a miracle, as being “giving up.” I would disagree,, I don’t see “giving up” and “letting go” of hope as being the same. I see “letting go” of hope as being letting go of the burden that hope can become sometimes, perhaps through redefining, or redirecting it. Giving up sounds defeatist (and neither of us are defeatists!) Whereas maybe letting go sounds more proactive. I’m writing while thinking “aloud” here! Blogging, and the interactions that take place, is good for processing.
I was discussing this yesterday with my financial planner. He reminded me that in the original Greek “hope” did not contain the element of doubt it does now 2000 years on. We are promised a “sure and certain hope”, not something based on wishes, dreams or fantasy. I have seen God at work in the lives of my patients, I have seen miracles happen before my own eyes. We battle daily with many issues, hence the need to wear the full armour of God. I often think of this “armour” protecting me from people’s cartoon speech bubbles of platitudes!
I love the line, “Please don’t hold me a prisoner to hope!” It’s a delicate balance, because I didn’t want people to give up on me with their prayers. But I also didn’t want to feel trapped by their hopes when I was looking at blood on the toilet paper at the end of the month. It’s a hard world we live in, one in which God does do miracles, but there are no guarantees that they will happen.
Thanks Rebecca. Yes, exactly. It’s great to have people praying, but also to have people who are able to meet with us where we’re at not merely focus on where they want us to be.
Thanks Rachel. It’s not the same at all to “let go” of hope for a child and “give up” hope in Christ for salvation. Not sure that your other reader read your article. Anyway, thank you for it.
Hi Heather. Not sure which reader you’re referring to, but I’m sure that all the ones that commented here did read the article 🙂 and none of them are suggesting that letting go of hope for a child is the same as giving up hope in Christ. You’re right though, that it’s not the same to “let go” of hope for a child and “give up” hope in Christ for salvation. I think that sometimes the problem can be that in some Christian circles, the two end up becoming entwined in the message that we’re giving to people.. If we tell people that God WILL do a certain thing and that becomes their view of God, then if it doesn’t happen as they’ve been led to believe that it should, they may give up hope in both things. I’ve seen that happen so many times 🙁 and it’s one reason that I think us Christians need to be very careful about what we’re promising people.
So glad your hope is in Jesus Christ!!! He never disappoints! Have you ever read God’s plan for pregnancy??
Hi Caroline. Yes, my hope is most definitely in Jesus, and I’m so happy to have a hope that will never disappoint me. I’ve not read God’s Plan for Pregnancy, although I have just read most of the first three chapter on the preview on amazon. I have to be honest and say that I have some serious theological problems with the direction that it seems to be going in. I’m by no means unfamiliar with such theology, so the concepts presented in this book are not new to me. The idea that all women (or all Christian women) will have children and be healed of all illness if they’ll only believe and proclaim it, is one that can be very damaging to those who don’t experience such a miracle. I’ve personally been hurt when judgments have been made about that and I’ve seen people leave the church disappointed with God, or rather with the perception that they had of Him. I stand by everything that I said in this post. I’m free to hope, but not a prisoner to hope. I pray for healing from MS and for pregnancy, but if it doesn’t happen my faith will not falter because I know where it’s placed. I know that you’re on this journey through infertiity too. May God continue to give us both everything that we need as we trust in Him.
Well said. I do not expect children, but hope to be blessed with them. If they are not given, it is not because I didn’t pray hard enough. Borderline prosperity theology makes my stomach turn. We could never pray enough, we’d inevitably fail. But there is a reason we go through what we do, and we must find peace in that knowledge, while maintaining hope.
Farin
http://farinvazquez.blogspot.com
Hi Farin. Yes, I also struggle with anything that borders on prosperity theology. I’m so glad that God hears out prayers.. I pour my heart out to Him. I know that He’s heard me every single time I pray. I feel free to share my deepest concerns and emotions, but not trapped that if “I pray just one more time that might be it”. God heard me the first time!. I still talk to Him about my desires regularly but I also enjoy being free to think and pray about other things and not feel that I have to pray for a baby every single day without fail. Thanks for your comment.
I love this piece, Rachel. A dear friend of mine struggles with infertility and I’m going to refer her to this blog because you give voice to what I know she and millions of other people are suffering through. Thanks for there for her and those like her.
And of course the MS thing. I hear you. I got out of the hospital two years ago (first MS hospitalization in 25 years with the disease) and it has been a long, slow, brutal struggle back to health and strength. Three weeks ago I was feeling so good I started Couch 2 5K, getting back to my love of running. For two weeks I felt absolutely amazing, like I almost really had my life back.
Then a slow numbness starting in feet, climbing up legs, up to my waist. Muscles getting weaker. Grabbing the cane again to walk. After feeling the elation again of strength and health, somehow it hurts so much worse this time to feel like I’m losing it all again.
Shit.
But we pray for our daily bread. Just enough for the day, with whatever challenges or opportunities it brings. Keep sharing, being honest, and hurting in public. Thanks for your words.
Thanks David. It took me a lot of wrestling to get to this point. It’s so freeing though! I’m always happy to connect with those who can relate to my journey and thoughts in anyway. I’d love for your friend to read my blog and to connect (if she wishes to comment) No matter how much support we have, infertility often feels like such a lonely journey, so it’s great to share with others,
The MS journey is so unpredictable isn’t it? Such a bummer when that numbness hits 🙁 So true, we need to take each day at a time. Thanks for your comment. I will continue this blogging journey. You do the same and keep those posts coming! 🙂
I absolutely love your authentic, heart-felt words. The truth sets us free- And His Spirit comforts us in our sufferings. God is surely dancing over your with delight- you have made Him your treasure and hope. hugs and blessings
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Thank you Cindy. God is definitely my treasure and hope. I can’t imagine doing this journey without Him.
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I’m so glad to have read this post. There are times I have no idea how to define hope myself. I try to eat healthy and take care of myself in ‘hope’ that my hormones will be in check so it can give me better possibilities of pregnancy. But after these years of infertility I’ve learned to stop over thinking it because I was becoming ungrateful and feeling like a victim. I’ve learned instead to just have faith, pray over my needs but without daily begging for kids, and to just do my best in taking care of me. Of course I get days where I lose hope and days where my joy goes out the door, but eventually I find ways to get my joy back. Infertility is a tough road to face, but I guess we just have to keep believing and trusting in God’s plan.
Thanks for this great post. It’s so open and easy to relate to. Best wishes to you on your journey!
Hi Edith,
Welcome to Surviving the Platitudes. So glad that you could relate to this post. I think infertility often challenges us to reconsider what we mean by hope. We have to find that balance between what’s in our hands and what’s out of our hands don’t we? This infertility journey is a tough one. I’m so very grateful for the strength that God gives us. Although I don’t think He chooses infertility for us, I take great comfort in the hope that He will use everything for good in the lives of those who love Him.
Thanks so much for stopping by and for commenting. I wish you well on your journey too.
– Rachel
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