...and a little shame

At church that Sunday in Vermont, at the church I have previously referred to as one of my favorite churches, I felt shame. I should also say, again, that I love Windham church. Absolutely love it. I don't blame anyone for the feelings I felt that day. This is just a sad reality of infertility and other such situations: being in church is sometimes challenging.

We read, responsively, Psalm 127. Psalm 127 had not caught my eye much in the past four-and-a-half years. But that day it did. Because I was reading it aloud.. And because it made my eyes tear up... "Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior’s hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them! He will not be put to shame when he confronts his accusers at the city gates." (verses 3-5, NLT)

During the responsive reading, we sang, twice:

We will not be put to shame.
We will not be put to shame.

And yet, I felt complete and utter shame by the fact that my husband and I cannot have biological children. Do I still want to adopt? Absolutely. That's not the issue. The issue is that I am put to shame every morning when I wake up and remember that it's been almost a year-and-a-half since we started the adoption process, and still have no daughter.. that we've been trying to have kids for almost five years... that some people get pregnant so quickly, and others struggle and struggle and struggle... and nothing. Yes, I have been put to shame. Even though I'm not a "young man", I'm a woman who's fighting a battle: the battle of infertility. My quiver has no children. My soul feels shame and sadness on a daily basis.

And yet, I hope. At least I try to hope. And when I can't, I count on friends and family to hope for me, for us, because sometimes it's just too hard.