Control is my constant nemesis. I’m always chasing it and it will never be caught. Certain times of the year it seems to taunt me from afar even more; the anniversary of my first miscarriage, the due date of what would have been my first baby, the date I lost the second baby, and the third…
I never really had control. None of us do.
When I was younger, I foolishly thought I had some control. Life wasn’t picture perfect growing up, but by twenty-five I had happily married my dream man and my career was underway. We landed, as planned, in San Diego, where we would live a fruitful life by the beach. God had different plans and in 2006 He took back all control and insisted I just let go and trust Him.
Not easy, not easy at all.
For ten years now I’ve struggled with infertility. My husband and I have suffered through six lost babies, nearly one a year. We’ve experienced miscarriage, failed IVF, and most heartbreakingly; an adoption where the birth mom changed her mind. (Choosing to parent your child is never a bad decision. It’s the right choice, but when you are the waiting family on the other side after six months of expectation, it destroys you.)
I was nearly destroyed time and time again.
Yet, I was also blessed with two miracle girls in 2009. They are true gifts from God. I count my blessings every time I exhale in their chaotic seven-year-old presence. But even they are a reminder of my lack of control. They are growing up, and it’s my job to help them become independent, Christian women. I need to give up my control as their mom and let them go.
I don’t want to. (Said while stomping my feet and squeezing my fists.)
But you see the Lord is in control and I know He has designed these last ten years to give me the empathy and understanding so many other moms are missing. It’s not their fault; it’s just impossible to understand the heart of an infertile woman if you’ve never lost a child. My heart is full for those that have suffered loss like me, or worse, have watched a child die—and the many women who have never had the children they’ve prayed for.
You are not alone. You never were.
There is beauty in being out of control. Whether you’re a new-overwhelmed mom or a grandmother watching as time uncontrollably speeds by. Or you’re a woman who can’t control what’s happening to her own body. None of us actually has control, but what happens in the mess can be glorious. It’s brought me three breathtakingly beautiful children, an unplanned successful career I adore and really don’t deserve and a village full of women who wade with me through the memories of my heartbreaks that threaten to drown me each year.
Together there is power to overcome.
There are times of the year that remind me how out of control we are. Embrace them. Talk about it. Let control tease you from the seemingly perfect lives of those around you, (pssst guess what? They don’t have control either,) and walk the other way into the designed chaos that was planned just for you.
