The Truth About Motherhood After Infertility

I hesitated to write this post for a long time. Okay, almost 4 years is a bit more than a hesitation, I suppose. But nevertheless, here I am finally writing it — letting it all out in hopes it will encourage just one tired mama.

Let me share a condensed version of my story with you before I share my truth.

I had been hospitalized for hemorrhaging when we heard the words, “You’ll never be able to have children.” Even today it still punches me in the gut. It was so cold and felt so final, even though I was clinging to my promises from the Lord. I knew their names. I saw them in my dreams. What was being said and what I had seen were not connecting, and that’s a hard pill to swallow when you’re a twenty-something trying to get it all together and having no idea what is happening to your body.

We had been trying to conceive for awhile before this and it didn’t happen. I couldn’t let go of my promise, so in the hospital I was Googling adoption. I thought maybe God meant something else for our family. I wasn’t ready to let go of my dream of being a mom.

As a last attempt we went to one more doctor for a fiftieth opinion. This one was gentle, amazing, and agreed to do the surgery no one else would touch. I had a uterine fibroid the size of a grapefruit, and I looked about 6 months pregnant. We ended up having our friends and family contribute to our surgery and they had it all covered within a week, I think it was. Everyone had our backs financially and in prayer. I cried every day in gratitude. Here was our chance to have a biological family!

I had the surgery, which ended up being the giant fibroid AND 20+ others. Recovery went well and about a year later we got pregnant with our first child. I figured it out because I almost ran off the road to get some spicy chicken wings!

Pregnancy was great. Delivery was hard. I knew going in I would have to have a c-section, but I was not prepared for my child having to be in the NICU for almost 24 hours.

I was not prepared for nursing to be so hard.

I was not prepared for the horrible sleepless nights and the pain of recovery while caring for this precious tiny human.

I was not prepared for the intense love I would feel for him, or how I would defy authority to do what I thought was best for both of us. (I’m a rule-respecter by nature!)

I was not prepared for the anger that surfaced after having a baby. The rage.

I was not prepared for how alone I would feel. Or how I would hate nursing so much because I was way too afraid to nurse in public so I would retreat, alone. (A history of sexual abuse will cause you to do a lot of weird things.) And I would be angry and hate it all, including myself. And eventually I would resent this beautiful little miracle baby because who I really was came rushing to the surface. And I didn’t dare tell a soul because I was so very ashamed. I would be raging angry one minute, and then I would look into his beautiful blue eyes and just cry and cry because I loved him so very much. And then the horrible guilt would set in.

“People paid MONEY so you could have this baby.”

“YOU wanted this, so what’s wrong with you?!”

“You are just a giant failure all the way around because you can’t nurse all the time and because you get angry when your kid needs you. What’s wrong with you?! What kind of mother are you?!”

A tired, exhausted, broken, lonely mother is who I was. (And if I’m being totally honest here, at times it’s still who I am.)

I am two kids into this motherhood adventure and I wish I could say it’s gotten 100% better, and while it has gotten better, I still struggle in this area. I will have a day where I am feeling really run down and tired from shouting at the top of my lungs because I just want to be heard and then I’ll see a post on Facebook that reads like this:

“Someone would just die to have the struggles you have right now. You should be grateful for your children because someone else can’t have any.”

And I will just weep and weep. Waves of horrible pain and grief and wretched shame wash over me. I would cry because 1. I was that girl that couldn’t have children and said stuff like this and 2. Because I didn’t understand then what that does to moms in this position. Oh the shame it heaps on them as they struggle to find their place in their motherhood. Gratitude is so important, but when statements like this are made, it doesn’t inspire gratitude, it just inspires shame.

The truth is that we all were raised by imperfect people. We all were born into imperfect families. We all have stuff we hate about ourselves and wish we could change right now. We all have struggles in the season that we are in. And it seems like motherhood brings out what you’re made of like nothing else. What we are made of is brick after brick of our past, our families, our choices, and the things that have happened to us. And until we build a new foundation, we will just keep perpetuating the cycles.

We are all in need of healing. We are all in desperate need of a Savior.

And I’m not talking about another human being to rescue us. That’s temporary and always leaves us needing it again and again. And it never, ever satisfies.

I’m talking about the One who created us and knows every intricate detail of our design. He knows us so well because He created us! He had a need in His heart that only WE could fulfill. So, here we are! We may be flawed and at times absolutely hate ourselves, but He sees who He created us to be and who He is helping us become, so He is never bothered by who we are now. He grieves with us as we grieve. He catches our tear drops in His hands. (And I know I’m not the only Mama that cries a LOT of tears, so it’s a really good thing He has big hands. 😉) It is this revelation of Love that will pull us out of the tormenting lie train and onto the life-giving love train!

It takes a lot of love and patience. It takes work and grace for ourselves. It takes a lot of, “I’m sorry” and many tearful hugs. It takes getting up every day and giving it your all, even if that looks like coming up short in your book. (Throw that book away, by the way. It’s all rubbish in there.)

Ask for help. Reach out. Find your tribe. And most importantly, find out who you are NOW. Don’t cling to who you used to be. I have been finding lately that my biggest areas of contention are when I try to do something that used to bring me joy but doesn’t anymore. Or trying to pour into friendships that feel forced and one-sided. I am stripping away all that used to be me but doesn’t fit anymore. That includes friendships that don’t fit anymore. I still love those people and bless them, but I’m re-drawing my friendship circles and making room for those that make room for me. The real me. Not the one wearing the masks and trying to fit in at the cool mommy club. Not the one that pretends to like talking about the weather when she really just wants to ask people what their dreams are.

I am giving myself permission to be who I am right now.

I’m finding that there are a lot of things I would love to be doing, but this season does not allow for that. It feels frustrating at times, but I am putting them on a dream board and not letting them go. I’ll pick them back up when it’s the season again. And there are other things I can modify to fit my season too. So I’m opening up my mind and letting myself out of the box so I can see those things differently. That helps too!

Every day, one foot in front of the other, it gets better. Each day I find myself choosing joy faster, or better able to control my hollering and the emotions behind it. Every emotion is an indicator light that something is going on underneath. So being honest with myself and going after what I need (within reason) is helping too.

Motherhood is a process.

At times it’s a messy, painful, joyful, loving, wonderful experience. And this journey is all mine. I wouldn’t trade that for all the sunshine and rainbows in the world. The sunshine AND the rain are what make the roses bloom. 🌹

Love you guys,

-Nikki