The Emotional Toll of Infertility

“The heat of midnight tears will bring you to God.” – 15th-century Hindu poet

And who amongst us, having been diagnosed with fertility problems, has not shed more than a few midnight tears? Could these tears, and this heartbreak, be God’s call to come closer?

A few days ago one of my friends so aptly reminded me about the scene in Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert where she finds herself prostrate on the bathroom floor, praying for God to tell her what to do. The answer. Go back to bed.

I suppose that is the answer. Go back to bed and start again tomorrow. What more can we do when the darkness descends upon us and we begin to feel hopeless?

A few nights ago I found myself lying on my back trying to tell my husband what was wrong. Tears streaming down my cheeks–covering those tears up with my hand, as if trying to hide from him all the shame I feel from a body that has now been deamed, what feels like, not a full woman. His constant question back, what can I do? What do you need?

All I could do was roll over, curl into myself, close my eyes, and go back to bed. Unfortunately leaving a space between he and I–likely pushing him away because I was feeling so very undeserving.

We do the best we can do each day. However, when we find ourselves prostrate on the proverbial bathroom floor, it’s ok if the best we can do is get up, and go back to bed.

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