My Story

My eyes are heavy with the haze of anesthesia as I feel the weight of a warm post-op blanket cover my body. I’m suddenly aware of the pain. And then my eyes shoot open and I slur with a heavy tongue and a raspy voice to my husband there at my bedside in the sterile recovery room, “Is it over?! What did he say?!” There’s a pause and a sigh and I suddenly feel a weight in that moment, you know that heaviness of a moment that you know will change your path from here on out. “Babe, he said there’s nothing he could do…” Hot tears stream down my cheeks and the pain of a surgery meant to pave the path towards bringing life into this world is now a dead end.

It was my 4th surgery to restore order to my uterus and ovaries, which were a tangled mess of endometriosis & scar tissue from a condition known as Asherman’s Syndrome. When I met my husband, I had already had one surgery that seemed benign enough, but it led to the eventual difficult journey of infertility. Of course we didn’t know it then, that I would never be able to conceive. When we were dating, Justin said to me as we spoke of the future one night under the stars, “You know I’ve always wanted to adopt.” How precious, I thought, and I agreed that would be great… after having our “own” children one day, of course. Funny how the path we see ourselves walking is actually never even on the map, isn’t it? 

Ten years later,  I find myself hiking with Justin to an amazing spot called Roan Mountain… hand in hand with my amazing 7 year old son, Zane. He came to us through the miracle of adoption. Our path to Roan isn’t easy even if you’re not a kid. It’s rugged, 3 miles one way up a small mountain range in east Tennessee. What were we thinking, bringing him with us on this hike?!, I think to myself, knowing how tough it is ahead of us. Have you ever hiked with a 7 year old?? I don’t know about you but every time it seems we envision a perfect hike full of “the-hills-are-alive-with-the-sound-of-music” moments and usually we end up with nothing but whining 10 minutes in and the kid ends up eating all the snacks, crying because his feet hurt, and a piggy back ride for miles is the end result, along with declarations like “I’m never doing this again” and “Buddy I can’t carry you anymore” (but yet we still do). You swear you’ll never do this again! AMIRIGHT? However, that day, by some miracle, instead of whines and crying and gnashing of teeth, Zane was bounding up the mountain like some giddy mountain goat way ahead of us. “Don't worry, Mama… you said we can do hard things, right!” We come to a clearing and it’s breathtaking. It’s difficult to describe the majesty of 360 degree views of the Smoky Mountains all around you, sun rays shining down like they are a stairway from heaven to the doorstep of the mountains below, and the vista of the valleys below. 

Maybe you’re like me 10 years ago - it seems you’ve found yourself on a path to nowhere. Sure, your path may certainly be the tough road of infertility. Or maybe it’s divorce, or living paycheck-to-paycheck. Perhaps it’s the loss of an infant or a parent or a friend. Whatever that hard thing is, our tendency is to want to scream, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” We have expectations of our life’s journey, with the picture perfect marriage, 2 kids, and no hardships. Wouldn’t that path be so much easier?! Hiking a flat, perfect trail to the end of a beautiful vista or mountaintop would be ideal, right? The challenge of thorns, mud, boulders, steep climbs, or even rain is not welcome. We seek the mountaintop but not the journey to get there. I get it. No one has 4 surgeries to try to get pregnant and not get devastated when you’re told by the best experts in their field at age 26 and an empty womb, “We wish there was more we could do. But the best thing you can do for your health is to have a hysterectomy.” That’s not the path I wanted to walk. But the path He has for me is good. It may not always be easy to traverse - heck, it will sometimes feel as if we can’t even crawl - but it is good. Because HE is good.

God’s word says in Proverbs 3:5-6 to “Trust in and rely confidently on the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways know and acknowledge and recognize Him, and He will make your paths straight and smooth [removing obstacles that block your way].” (Proverbs 3: 5-6 Amplified Bible)

It’s easy to read this and say that we do trust in the Lord “with all our heart”… but then forget the rest. And the rest of it is essential to the making-of-the-smooth-paths part. Do not rely on your own insight or understanding. I consider myself an expert in all things medical. I am a nurse practitioner, and before that was an RN, an have been in the medical field for almost 20 years. My medical knowledge tells me that fertility is always possible. Technology advances all the time, knowledge in the field grows daily. At some point, I had to let go of the path I had drawn on my own map and follow the one God had forged before the beginning of time. I had to quit relying on my own insight and understanding of the situation. In doing so, I had no choice but to fall into His arms and fully trust His plan. It didn’t make to sense to me then. But God had another plan for our family. He knew that the amazing little boy he had planned for us would not come about through our own making. He knew the absolute joy he would bring to our lives. He knew the thousands who would read our blog as we traversed the trail of adoption, and the handful who would find relationship with Jesus through our journey. He knew the redemption plan he had for Zane’s birth mom through our own faith exposed like live wires in a delicate situation. He knew that through the thorns and steep climbs and the rainy days of infertility and the hard journey of adoption that ultimately He would bring glory to his name. I just had to let go. And looking back, his peace was the trailblazer that, in the end, made the path straight and smooth. Our own feet stumbled along the way, but all along His peace reigned in our hearts.

As you hike this treacherous path today, lean on Him… not your own understanding. It doesn’t make sense to our carnal minds. But as you lean on Him, you will begin to “know and acknowledge and recognize Him.” And his peace will make the paths smooth in your heart. And then one day, you’ll get to that clearing… and it’ll take your breath away as you see His hand of majesty on what He’s created just... for... you, sweet friend.

And just so you know, our “perfect” hike up the mountain ended with walking back down in the dark (one of us without a light source) and giving a piggy back to one very whiny, tired 7 year old.