I couldn’t stop sobbing. On the kitchen floor. Although, some might say it was more like howling. Whatever it was, it wasn’t very pretty. It wasn’t something you brag about to your friends, or even admit to people around you. It was dark, despairing, terror-filled sobbing. My husband was too upset about all of this to even comfort me; he begged me to stop crying.
What started it? My search for a reason. Why am I infertile? Why are my ovaries failing prematurely? What’s wrong with me? Is there some other terrible illness that is going to inflict itself upon me?
I searched the internet and came up with two possible answers: thyroid autoimmune disorders (like Hashimoto’s disease) or a fragile X genetic premutation (linked with autism, POF, and a debilitating elderly disease). Why was this so terrifying to me? Because my mother has Hashimoto’s and my brother has autism.
My doctor told me we should definitely test for both things. Somehow his validation of my internet search results made me more terrified. The thoughts raced around in my head without pause. I was being tortured by them.
I was also on letrozole–a medication to help me ovulate in preparation for my upcoming IUI. I would like to blame the medication for my hours of horror-ridden sobbing, but I’m not sure it’s that simple. I’m not sure I can. They were MY thoughts.
I feel like I’m at the end. Like any sort of terrible thing could happen to me, and it would be perfectly expected, perfectly allowable. The truth is that I have absolutely no control over any of it. I am completely nothing and completely weak and completely broken. I walk around in a daze trying to remember what it felt like to be me. I can’t remember anymore. But I know that my strength is gone, I’m just going through the motions.
I lost my voice from the sobbing. I can’t sing. I can’t even cry out anymore. My throat is swollen and painful.
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” II Corinthians 12:9
God–I am so shamefully weak and destroyed that this is your chance to show off–this is your chance to show up with your perfect strength. I am nothing. Please, please, please, please, please…I don’t know what to ask for, but I pray that you would fulfill your promises to me. Don’t leave me here. Please take me somewhere better.
Please mend my spirit and give me the strength and joy to glorify you. Because I don’t have it on my own.