I Fight the Devil

Every.Single.Day. 

I fight satan when he places negativity in my head.  I fight him when guilt starts to set in and I feel like I let my babies down.  I fight satan when my thoughts wander to the fear of never having children here to raise. 

I am exhausted.  I am beat.  My body is physically tired from trying to stay strong and not give in.  My heart hurts.  My muscles are sore.  I am tired.  I am worn out.

I want my precious, beautiful babies back.  I want them in my belly, growing, kicking each other, fighting for room.  I want Chandler and Paisley. 

Even if I could, after they have experienced Heaven and all its glory, I wouldn’t bring them back.  That would be mean and devastating to them. 

I went for my 6 week follow-up yesterday.  I didn’t have any horror stories like other women have gone through where the nurse asked them how their babies were, nothing like that.  I don’t even really know what I did have, but whatever it was, it upset me.  It threw me into a very dark place that I am trying to fight and stay away from.

I knew I needed to give my body time to heal before trying again.  I fully expected there to be a delay in when I would be able to try again.  Our doctor asked us when we wanted to try again.  We told her as soon as it was ok.  She said 4-6 months, with 4 months being the very minimum.  I went into the appointment expecting 3-6 months.  It’s not like I heard much different.  But when she said 4-6, I felt so upset.  I really don’t know why. 

We asked her if at 4 months, we could try a frozen embryo transfer (FET).  She said maybe, but she’d need to check with Sarah at the IVF clinic and let us know.  I then asked her the protocol for doing the FET, and she said it differs.  She then gave an example where it basically took 9 embryos to get one pregnancy.  That scares me.  We only have 3 embryos. 

Honestly, I don’t know what upset me so much.  But after telling my friend Liz about it, she helped me see what it was.  We need a timeline when having to go through infertility treatments, and when I got the timeline from her, it wasn’t exactly what I expected and that upset me, along with the fear about the FET success rate. 

I’ve been fighting for so long.  Fighting to be happy.  Fighting to have children.  Fighting for what so many people take for granted.  It isn’t fair at all!  And I’m not getting any younger.  The clock is ticking…in fact, I think the alarm is going off now.  Last night, I broke down.  It became too much.  I fought with Dust as he asked me to take my prenatal vitamins like the doctor said I should (I’ve continued the folic acid, but couldn’t bring myself to take the prenatal vitamin) and became stubborn and wouldn’t take it.  I said there was no point in taking it.  I was ready to give up.  Last night, I felt like there was no point at all, to anything.  I said that Dusty and I are never going to have more children, so why pretend like we may. 

At times, I feel like God is never going to give us the children we desire, the happiness we long for.  After all, we had that.  We were doubly blessed.  We had never been happier.  And then, God allowed it to all be taken away.  Why?  And why would God give us children now?  He already did and decided to take them away.  How am I supposed to put any faith, any trust at all, in God? 

Then, this morning, I realized that was satan.  I was letting satan win this battle with me when I say things like that. 

Recently, I’ve connected with another girl who lost her baby boy a few days before I delivered Chandler and Paisley.  She and I have been trying to keep each other lifted up.  She sent me a link to a Joel Osteen podcast yesterday, and I didn’t listen to it until today.  In it, Joel talks about how we have to speak positively.  How we have to say that all is well.  When we speak positively, we are prophesying what will be our future.  When we say all is well, we show God that we are trusting him to turn what was meant to harm us into good.  As hard as that is right now, I need to remember that, and try my best to stay positive when I’m tempted to turn my back on God, as I feel he’s done with me, even though I know that isn’t true. 

Then, this morning, as I started this post, my friend Sarah sent me a link to this song, Worn, by Tenth Avenue North.  Just wow…this song is me right now.  I’m so glad Sarah shared with me.  And how fitting while I was in the middle of typing this post, where I began with stating how exhausted, how worn out I am.

The lyrics say:

“I’m tired, I’m worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes

To keep on breathing…

…Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up

But I’m too weak

Life just won’t let up…

My prayers are wearing thin…

Even before the day begins…

I’ve lost my will to fight…”

This song couldn’t say it better.  I’m so tired of fighting with everything I have.  I know I have to.  But, I thought we were past this fight.  I thought we’d been blessed with beautiful, healthy twins.  A boy and a girl.  One for each of us to hold onto tight.  How do I place my trust in God when he’s let us down? 

I know, more than anything else, I have to keep trusting.  I can’t get bitter, I can’t get down, I can’t get negative.

It’s so hard.  I’m trying, but I’m so worn.