I am not going to lie. I’m not always “diggin’” God’s plan. I mean … “Hey God? Can I have a … umm … baby? Just one? I at least just want one. Please?”
And frankly it scares me when people pray, “Lord, please give them a child … when the timing is right.”
NO NO NO! Please give me a child t-t-t-today, please!!!
But sometimes God sees the massive picture.
As if the heartache of infertility isn’t enough, we then have to sacrifice everything so much for treatment … for the potential (not guarantee) of a baby (not a litter).
$$$ MONEY $$$
Financial stability (savings, debt, etc.) is arguably the biggest sacrifice. It’s funny: I went to the pharmacy last week to get a quote on my Lupron shot. He kind of grimaced when he told me the total cost if insurance didn’t cover it; the cost (about $300) sounded fine to me. Buddy, you’re going to need to give me a figure in the multi-thousands to shock me. Do you ever feel that way? “Oh! 300 bucks? For an infertility medication? Eh, no problem.”
And it’s not that big of a deal compared to a $2,000+ price tag at the start of every stim cycle.
Oh, and don’t you just love the bull shit that is: “Money can’t buy happiness.” Bluh bluh bluh. Oh, I beg to differ.
Anyway, back to the “But.”
Sometimes the Lord’s graces shine through. Although I am not pregnant, He still sees me.
I know, I know, I know that He has in mind the perfect egg, perfect sperm, perfect technique of the perfect embryologist and transfer doctor to create the perfect baby for me. And I’m certain I’ve paid my dues in the waiting game, but I will always wait … until the doctor tells me not to I’m pregnant.
And while I wait—while I’ve been waiting—Jesus has given us so much freakin’ money!
He has placed us in the right … place. I truly believe my Lord is part of this treatment process. He knew the plan a year ago … on our wedding day … when we first met.
Though I am scared, fearful, impatient, pissed off, heart-broken … I can feel you, God. I know you’re here. And—thank you. Can I have a baby now?
My next cycle is being pushed up by about a month and a half. Hot dang. I’ll keep you all posted, obvs.
Can you pray for my oocytes, as the professionals like to call them? 😉 Nothing major; just that they’d … you know … reflect the age of a 25-year-old … ‘cause that is my age and stuff … but whatever.