There has been a common theme over the last week or so. At first I dismissed it as my crazy infertile thoughts in overdrive. I attributed it to announcement, after announcement, after announcement. But it's not just in my head anymore....
His ways are not our ways. His thoughts are not our thoughts. Nothing is impossible with God. He makes the impossible, possible.
And tonight, without knowing the thoughts that have been running rampant in my mind, without me mentioning anything beyond adoption, a church friend felt it. She prayed for us. In the parking lot, with just a few close friends. A prayer in faith. If God could raise dead bodies and give them life again, and we all believe He did, He could correct whatever problems we have. She prayed for whatever adoption plans God has for us, too, and prayed for God to grow our family in whatever way He sees best.
I've started lots of posts about what a bad infertile I am, because I don't remember where I am in this cycle. Then I decide I'm being ridiculous and delete them. We definitely haven't been truly ttc. It hasn't even been a thought, we haven't even entertained the notion of temp charting or perfect timing or counting the days.
For the first time in a long time, I want to hope. I want to believe. But do I dare? My body seems to be pointing towards CD1 within a day or two, but what if I'm wrong? It's dangerous ground, this hope, and it's easy to get caught in a (21-28) day cycle of hope and despair. But maybe it's different this time. Maybe God is not wanting me to try, try, try. Maybe He simply wants me to trust, trust, trust. If I wake up to CD1 in the morning, maybe I'm just supposed to do as my favorite verses say, and remain joyous in the Lord. Even if the fig tree doesn't bud. Even if there are no grapes on the vines, the olive crop fails, there's no food in the fields, no sheep in the pen or cattle in the stalls. Even if this egg doesn't bud into an embryo. Even if there are no sperm. Even if there is a pregnancy and it fails. Even though there's no bun in the oven, no babies in the beds, and the house remains quiet and toy-free. I'm still supposed to have my joy. Why? Because the Sovereign Lord is my strength. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, He enables me to go on the heights.