The Stairwell

If the last 2 & 1/2 weeks have taught us anything, it's that dealing with infertility is like climbing a stairwell together.


Sometimes, my husband & I climb together, hand in hand, our other hands gripped tightly on the railing, fixing our eyes ahead, but also focused on nothing more than taking each step together, one-by-one.  These moments are sweet.  Our bond is strong & we realize more & more why it is that the good Lord has brought us together.  Our railing is His Word, the approaching landing we look to is Him, & the slow, one-by-one steps we manage to take are accomplished only because that's the only way God designed us to take them...one-by-one, not bounding so fast in attempting to plan what's next that we misstep & fall, as well as not hesitating to move forward by looking behind us to wallow in the past sadness so that it smothers us in self-pity.


Because this stairwell is long & not always well-lit it is easy to get distracted.  We can peer out the windows & lose ourselves watching those around us who have never struggled to conceive.  We watch their excitement as they announce their pregnancies, listen as they plan on these new babies' arrivals, bravely attend their baby showers, visit them in the hospital as they welcome their children into the world, & babysit for them as they venture out for date nights.  If we're not careful, we stand at these windows & forget to keep climbing.  Suddenly, we are jealous, overcome by our own emotions as we selfishly focus on our own aching womb instead of being genuinely happy for those we love in their exciting times.


Because this stairwell only has a few lights overhead, we have to walk together in darkness occasionally.  These times are the hardest, the walls seem to close in, we feel trapped by our circumstances, the new bad news we have just received, & we feel that the next lighted area is so far away...the landing unreachable.  During this time, it is easy to lose our grip on the railing as well as each other.


Sometimes this news causes us pause, we can't breathe, we can't speak, all we can do is weep as it settles in.  We grip the railing & each other & hold on for dear life.


Sometimes we climb, hand in hand, gripping the railing, though we are numb, it's hard to feel & function.


Sometimes we climb, hand in hand, gripping the railing, delighting in the good news we just received, & we feel that the landing is obtainable...we will be parents one day soon.