The wind was relentless. It blew at a constant 25mph for 4 solid days without relief. It blew sand in my mouth/hair/ears/nose/eyes. It blew our chairs into our fire. It blew our hats off. It blew hamburger buns away. It blew little mountains of fine dirt into our tent. And it never let up.
On our third night as we sat in front of a fire that had been blown out, I thought, “this is the most perfect metaphor for infertility.” There we were, on vacation when most people were working. We were in one of the most beautiful areas in the whole country. We had days full of desert flowers, beautiful views, sunshine and good conversation. We were happy. And yet, there was this thing… this distraction that just wouldn’t go away. We couldn’t escape it, we couldn’t run from it and we couldn’t do anything to stop it.
It felt exactly like how infertility is. Our life is beautiful. We’re happily married, we have stable jobs, good families and we live in one of the most amazing areas of the country. We have friends, a good church, two cute little kitties and a lovely little home. Our life is good and it is blessed. And yet, there is this…thing that we can’t seem to get any relief from. We can’t beat it with medicine or surgery, we can’t pay money to make it go away. We can’t just forget about it and we can’t go into a hotel for some relief.
I got a little upset with God on our trip. “Really God?! We’re trying to take a nice little trip and you can’t stop the wind for just a day or two?! Can we please finally get a break?!” And then I looked around and realized God has been using the wind for the past 200 million years to shape Canyonlands. I was complaining about the very thing that caused such beauty to exist in this area.
And maybe the same thing is true with infertility. Maybe the relentlessness of it all is changing me and turning me into something better than I once was. There are days when I certainly don’t feel that way. I guess I can’t help but to hope that maybe something good is coming out of all this.