I have learned from my mom that a disorder does not define you. It's not WHO you are. Although we sometimes walk with what feels like a heavy cloud hanging over us, we can forget that not everyone sees that on the outside...unless we point it out.
I had a traumatic pregnancy loss in 2012 that I never dreamed would be what it was or change my life like it did. These things happen to OTHER people, right? In my anger and grief, I became a victim. What happened to me left a scarlet letter that I was determined to point out so people would be less likely to judge my crusty and often emotional behavior.
Since that time, and with some correlation, I now suffer infertility. But it's awkward. I have a son who came to us very easily. And then I lost the child we thought would complete our family. And now it seems we will remain a family of three by forces outside our hands. Very quickly I replaced my identity as the victim with the identity of broken vessel. Grief coupled with ongoing hopelessness can easily send you in a downward spiral.
But our free agency allows us to choose who we are and who we aren't. I am not an infertile. People won't choose to love me or hate me because of my medical history. I am a mom who happens to have infertility. And I have a chapter in my history that makes me passionate about new things, view my miracle son in a new light, and strengthen my faith every day.
My circumstances have led me to depression's door. Sometimes I ding-dong-ditch. And sometimes I let myself in and have some cocoa on the black couch. Make no mistake that what I feel is real, but I have also been taught that a sure way to ease sorrow is to serve and find gratitude in our trials.
I am working on this. I hope by sharing my honest and raw experiences that I will be able to see growth and change in myself, while still honoring my Heavenly Father for the gifts He has given me. They are there, sometimes in my face and sometimes in the shadows. I do have faith in my Heavenly Father's plan for me, but it's time that I begin to heal and start noticing the good things that surround me.
Today, I sipped homemade hot chocolate. Because it's COLD outside. And I come alive when it's cold. As I left the beloved mountains in Utah and Montana after a vacation this fall, I mourned coming back to the flat prairie land. But a lucky cold wave blew through and reminded me that Fall and winter do come around in Texas. And just when I needed it.
