This post was originally published on April 23, 2018 and republished on May 24, 2021.

Do you remember those public service announcements with the message “This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs”?

As I was planning out these past two posts for CWC for National Infertility Awareness Week I kept thinking, “This is your marriage. This is your marriage on infertility.”

Because infertility gives marriage a brand new meaning. One that most couples don’t anticipate ever having to deal with. It’s not part of the vision or dream of starting a family.

It’s never in the plans.

The Ugly Truth of Infertility

Infertility is just…well, not fun. It takes you and your marriage places you never thought it would go.

To places filled with guilt, shame and envy. Guilt for feeling like the one that is broken. Shame for feeling like your body is incapable of doing what it is supposed to do. And envy of those it comes easily to.

To a place of heightened insecurities and brokenness. Will someone ask me if I look pregnant in this outfit? Am I really a woman if I can’t do the basic thing a woman is biologically supposed to be able to do? Am I broken beyond repair?

To places of depression and anxiety. A place of defeat and loss. A place of worry and doubt.

Infertility brings with it emotional extremes. What are simple joys for mothers of babes can be like daggers to the heart of a yearning wanna-be-mama.

A beautiful pregnancy announcement can produce a flood of tears. Watching a news report on infant abuse ignites an anger you never knew you could feel toward another human being.

A tote of maternity clothes can cause a meltdown. Like the one I experienced last fall…it was The Maternity Clothes Meltdown of 2017.

You see, I have totes and totes of maternity and baby clothes passed down from my sister and friends stowed away in a storage unit, just waiting for me to get pregnant.

The expectation. The pressure.

I had pulled out one of those maternity clothes totes and brought it home; it was just sitting there in the guest room last fall…because, well, I figured I’d be pregnant by now.

After my endometriosis diagnosis, I decided it was time to open that tote in my guest room. I was staring down a tote of adorable maternity clothes that I may never be able to wear. And even if I would be lucky enough to wear them, it’s not like it was going to happen anytime soon, not with some major healing from endo needing to take place first.

So, I was determined to face those maternity clothes.

What I didn’t expect was the deep, hidden sadness that was unveiled in me as I opened that tote.

I lost it…a full-blown meltdown ensued.

Wildland Man was a witness to the calamity. It wasn’t pretty. It consisted of guttural and hysterical sobbing. If it scared him at all, he didn’t show it. He just let me cry it out in his arms. Good man, that Wildland Man.

After catching my breath between convulsive crying, I decided to donate those maternity clothes.

All of them.

Because someone out there would be grateful to have them and keeping them in storage was a selfish move on my part. It wasn’t about giving up hope, it was about getting out from under that pressure.

The mounting expectation that a singular tote of maternity clothes held over me was exhausting. Once I had a good cry and decided to give them all away, I felt a huge weight lifted off of me.

But the process of getting there wasn’t pretty.

Infertility is ugly. It has a way of exposing all of our flaws. Our fears. Our doubts. Our weaknesses in our faith.

It takes us to hard places. It gives us no guarantees. There is no concrete answer or quick fix solution.

It’s not a fun place to be.

But it does take your marriage to a whole new level. It can be intimidating to get so real and vulnerable with one another, to let down your guard and bare your soul.

But it’s also eerily beautiful.

Beauty for Ashes

Now, please understand, I’d never wish the struggle of infertility on any couple.

But there is beauty to be found in the ashes of such a struggle.

If you can push yourself to peer through the hard stuff to find that beauty…to focus on the blessings in disguise.

My big, burly man of a man…he has the biggest heart. I’ve seen it ache for mine.

I’ve seen his guard come down in ways I never have before.

We’ve talked fears and dreams and hopes and faith more in the last few years than in our entire 10+ years of being together.

We’ve envisioned a future since the beginning of our marriage and we are working hard together to bring that vision into reality.

And we’ve had to shift that vision at times. Infertility has made us look at it from a different angle.

We’ve lived a beautiful, messy life through this struggle.

We’ve fortified our marriage on strength and intention and faith. I’ve never felt closer to God. And I’ve never felt closer to Wildland Man.

We’ve made plans for our family-to-be. We’ve changed and adjusted and reworked those plans.

We’ve walked the valley of infertility together. And we’re still in it.

Yeah, infertility…it is ugly.

But there is beauty there too, if you have the courage to search for it.

After six years of a personal struggle with infertility, here’s what I have learned.

Infertility isn’t something to be ashamed of. Infertility exists. It is a harsh reality. A painful part of life that is hard to talk about. But just because it is hard to discuss doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t at least try. We can strengthen in community with others and support one another in the struggle. We don’t need to hide in shame or suffer in silence.

If you are quietly struggling with infertility, keep fighting for your dream of becoming a mama. Don’t lose hope. I promise, there is beauty on the other side.

[UPDATE]

Country Wife Chronicles is reader-supported. When you buy through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission.

I am excited to share that I was able to contribute to a multi-author book collaboration entitled (In)Fertility: Secrets, Struggles, & Successes. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to share my story for His glory on a larger scale with this book. 

This book makes no promises of quick fixes or universal cure-alls. Stories of miracles, like my own, are shared, but I recognize that it doesn’t always work out that way for everyone. The one thing this book does promise is to hold space for anyone who is coming to this book while they are walking the valley of infertility. Because that valley is scary, hard, and isolating.

If you are interested in learning more, click the graphic to purchase today!

If you missed last week’s post and are deep in the struggles of infertility, I shared some of my most relied upon Scriptures in “Marriage & Infertility.” Just click to download and go to God. He’ll get you through this; all you need to do is…

Be Still & Know…