Around that time and about 18 months into trying, I went to the doctor to have tests done. The doctor listened to me tell her how my period had never been normal, how I didn’t always ovulate, etc. Then, she gave me some very disheartening news. She said it would be nearly impossible for me to get pregnant since I don’t always ovulate. The reason was that this usually means your eggs aren’t “healthy” or “whole”, so she wanted to run more tests. This really broke my heart. I always wanted babies, and it NEVER occurred to me that I COULDN’T have them. I could not give the man I loved a baby of his own.. what kind of woman was I?
It was as I sat in that quiet, lonely ICU room that I started thinking, “How long does faith stay strong while suffering through hopeless trials? How long would MY faith stay strong?” A few days, a couple of weeks, several months, years, more than a decade? If I am honest with myself, my faith started to shake shortly after the news of my dad. The news just seemed extremely overwhelming and honestly just too much to bare. The fears of my youngest kids never remembering their Pepaw, the possibility that I may have spoken to my dad for the last time, words I should have said, things I should have thanked him for all flooded my mind at once. As I recently walked through those days of helplessly watching my dad suffer and striving to patiently wait for God’s timing and purpose, I discovered that my faith only became stronger but NOT in my power.