Blooming Infertile Soil - The Broken Body Syndrome

Cole and I were as naïve as most couples that start trying to conceive. It just happens right? You go off that little pill and then things start flowing and boom, pregnant. Hmm, not so much. The realizations starting crashing into our life. You only have one chance a month? Some people don’t ovulate? You have to have A LOT of sperm that know where they are going? My mind got shocked into reality.

My body didn’t want to cooperate. No periods, no ovulating, no anything. I began feeling the pressure and anxiety of the possibility of not being able to conceive. It wasn’t something I had ever thought about. I began to feel like I had a broken body. A body that didn’t know what it was formed to do. A body that had been hurt by this world. A body that ached to be like others. I wanted to naturally rebound my body, detox it, jumpstart it. I went gluten-free, then dairy-free, added herbs (vitex, maca, peony root, etc) and vitamins. Nothing. I felt better, but my ovaries clearly didn’t. Then drugs and drugs and still no two little lines on that stick.

Cole felt that feeling months later. The broken body feeling. Low counts and not much movement, he felt the pressure. He had become great at the supporting role. He was loving me through the process, praying for me, not bringing it up unless I needed it. He had learned that role, he was comfortable with that role. This new role of being part of the problem, not part of the solution, was a hard transition for him. No guy wants to be stripped of that manhood. But I got a chance to switch my role. To stop focusing on my problem and love Cole through his processing. God knew I needed it. He knew I needed that time to get my mind away from the constant dwelling on my temperature and my symptoms and my confusion. The time to love Cole and to intentionally put my trust in God every single day.

What is this thing that creeps in? This idea that our bodies are broken. We twist it to think that we did something to ourselves, that we deserve this, that this is our judgement for all mistakes from the past. Let me tell you, this world is broken. It is full of bummers and oops’s and darn its, but I will keep my eyes turned to the sky. Through this process, I keep telling myself: thank goodness this is not my home. When I am home, my body will be healed and perfect and free of the pain. That home, my forever home, is where my eyes are focused.

There was a day I distinctly remember God telling us we would have children. The day I heard him tell me that I would stay at home with those children. The day I gave up the idea of a career and future plans in general. But those words from him became our truth, his promise to us. Through the ups and downs, I am holding onto that. The broken body syndrome will not grab a hold of me and pull me down as hard as it tries. I will trust in what I know, and I know that my Father fulfills his promises.

Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory. They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength. They are buried as natural human bodies, but they will be raised as spiritual bodies.

1 Corinthians 15:43-44a