Completing the Puzzle

If you told me when I was in the throes of infertility, that motherhood would be this hard, I wouldn’t have believed you.

We spent eleven, long, painful years waiting. Every cycle, every month, being disappointed. Surgeries, medications, supplements, doctors visits, specialists, charts — for years, I thought it would never end.

And in July 2012, I was done. After a week of painful ultrasounds that were not easy to schedule because of a course, with compulsory attendance, I was taking. I went to Adoration and cried in front of Jesus and surrendered it all. I gave him my brokenness, my disappointments and dream of becoming a biological mother.

Only He knew that it would take four more years to find my children.

Looking through the lens of after, I can see that the foundation was being laid for my family. We found our forever home. I got a bigger vehicle. I opened my heart to all of the different possibilities that could come for our family of two.

And the moment I saw their photos, in the last two pages of the profile book that rainy Saturday afternoon, I knew. I knew they were the children that God had prepared me for. Every fibre of my being knew that all of the heartache and pain that we endured was for them.

Now, ten months into motherhood, my entire world has been turned upside down. My quiet, predictable life, is no longer. There are so many rewards, but there have also been so many tears — not just from the children, but from me.  I am humbled every day, and having to give so much of myself has truly been the most difficult part of my transition to motherhood.

Would I go back to childlessness?


Do I sometimes forget that the kids weren’t always here?

Every day.

So, here I stumble. Trying to accepting my new reality, regardless of my lack of confidence and self-doubt.  And hopefully, I can muddle through motherhood without causing too much harm.

“The Child Who Was Never Born”

Sculpture by Martin Hudaceka

Though originally created to grieve the pain and loss of abortion, this sculpture speaks volumes.  In its haunting simplicity, it gives us a glimpse into the heart and soul of every woman who has ever longed for a child whom they could not hold.

Former First Lady Laura Bush, in her book, “Spoken from the Heart,” says it all:

The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence.  For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child, or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful, some not.  Still, we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only, “I am sorry for your loss.”  But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness.  For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent, ephemeral shadows over their lives.  Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?

“Finding Forever” is a blog about HOPE!

The journey does not end in grief…  We must pass through the grief and allow God to heal us.  Only then can we find a new beginning.

With love from your sisters on the journey…

Jen & Terri