However, that doesn't mean that it isn't presently a trial with a lot of downsides. Part of that is just because we're meant to go through trials so that we can grow. But I think that Satan also finds ways to try to make our trials harder, so that they become a stumbling block instead of a stepping stone.
My experience isn't going to be exactly the same as everyone else who deals with infertility, but I imagine it's very similar. So let me tell a few of the ways Satan uses infertility to undermine faith and growth.
Feeling Distanced From God
Sometimes this experience helps me feel closer to God. There have been times when I've felt his love for me so strongly, and I know he is aware of me and my struggle. But the rest of the time, it's hard not to feel like He's very far away.
Learning to trust the Lord's timing is very hard. And when you're waiting on the answer to a prayer for as long as I've been waiting, it's easy to think that maybe He just can't hear you. Or maybe He just doesn't care.
Most of the time though, I feel distanced from God because of another issue that infertility brings up:
Sometimes this experience helps me feel closer to God. There have been times when I've felt his love for me so strongly, and I know he is aware of me and my struggle. But the rest of the time, it's hard not to feel like He's very far away.
Learning to trust the Lord's timing is very hard. And when you're waiting on the answer to a prayer for as long as I've been waiting, it's easy to think that maybe He just can't hear you. Or maybe He just doesn't care.
Most of the time though, I feel distanced from God because of another issue that infertility brings up:
Self-Doubt
One of the most painful affects of infertility is feeling like it's somehow your fault. I can't count the number of times I've wondered if we didn't have a baby yet because I wasn't healthy enough, wasn't righteous enough, wasn't prayerful enough, wasn't enough in so many ways. Maybe I'm not worthy of a baby because I forget to do my visiting teaching more often than I remember, or because I got angry at Jacob the other day for something stupid.
In my heart, I know that's not really how God works most of the time, but in the moments when my heart is sorrowful, in the moments when I really just don't understand why we're still waiting, those doubts creep in and make the heartache even worse.
And when I'm not bogged down doubting myself, I struggle with how I feel about people around me. Because Satan is also using this thing in my life to try me with:
Jealousy/Anger/Judgement
One of the most painful affects of infertility is feeling like it's somehow your fault. I can't count the number of times I've wondered if we didn't have a baby yet because I wasn't healthy enough, wasn't righteous enough, wasn't prayerful enough, wasn't enough in so many ways. Maybe I'm not worthy of a baby because I forget to do my visiting teaching more often than I remember, or because I got angry at Jacob the other day for something stupid.
In my heart, I know that's not really how God works most of the time, but in the moments when my heart is sorrowful, in the moments when I really just don't understand why we're still waiting, those doubts creep in and make the heartache even worse.
And when I'm not bogged down doubting myself, I struggle with how I feel about people around me. Because Satan is also using this thing in my life to try me with:
Jealousy/Anger/Judgement
Perhaps other people don't struggle with this as much as I do, but it has been a real fight for me to deal with these feelings. I'm still trying to teach myself not to feel these things whenever I hear that yet another person I know is pregnant.
I can't see a baby or toddler or pregnant woman without feeling extreme jealousy. Generally even when the kids are throwing a fit. (That is one bonus of this trial; whiny, noisy kids don't bother me much anymore.) Now, I think a little bit of jealousy is understandable in this situation, but sometimes I find my jealousy getting out of hand.
I start feeling judgmental or angry. I start thinking things like, "What makes them so much more worthy than me?" Or, "How do they even expect to handle a kid, they're both still in school and make hardly any money and live in a tiny apartment, Jacob and I could provide for a baby better."
I'm ashamed of how angry I can feel at what I perceive to be lack of understanding from the women I know who didn't have to wait for a baby. I once overheard someone talking about how it took them "a while" to get pregnant, referring to three months. In my head I thought, "How could they say that, they have no idea what they're talking about. How dare they." I'm still telling myself that a. they didn't even know I was listening, b. they had no idea at the time how long we'd been trying for and c. they don't know any better, for them that was a while.
I even find myself getting jealous or judgmental of people I don't know. I hate that Facebook somehow feels like it makes sense for me to see every post my friends like, which includes when they like a baby announcement for people I don't know. Even worse are those rare news stories about women who go to the doctor with a stomach ache and end up giving birth when they didn't even know they were pregnant. I mean, seriously, how can they not know?
These feelings are awful, and I'm really trying to overcome them, especially because they add to the last trial I'm going to talk about:
Feeling Distanced From Other People
Jacob and I are kind of not the most social people in the first place. He's kind of a homebody, and most of the time I'm okay with that, but sometimes I do feel lonely. You see, while I love the friends we do have, sometimes its hard to relate with them. Most of our friends are either still single, or they already have kids. It's hard for my unmarried friends to relate to most things having to do with my marriage (which is obviously a huge part of my life), and I can't easily relate to anything having to do with kids (which is obviously a huge part of your life if you have kids).
And even when I know my friends' (or family members') children and love them and can relate to some conversations about them, being around kids always reminds me of the heartache of not having my own. I can try (and sometimes succeed) to put that out of my mind and enjoy game nights or girls' nights, but it isn't always easy.
Feeling Distanced From Other People
Jacob and I are kind of not the most social people in the first place. He's kind of a homebody, and most of the time I'm okay with that, but sometimes I do feel lonely. You see, while I love the friends we do have, sometimes its hard to relate with them. Most of our friends are either still single, or they already have kids. It's hard for my unmarried friends to relate to most things having to do with my marriage (which is obviously a huge part of my life), and I can't easily relate to anything having to do with kids (which is obviously a huge part of your life if you have kids).
And even when I know my friends' (or family members') children and love them and can relate to some conversations about them, being around kids always reminds me of the heartache of not having my own. I can try (and sometimes succeed) to put that out of my mind and enjoy game nights or girls' nights, but it isn't always easy.
By extension, this often makes church and church activities hard for me. There are so many young families in our ward, so there are kids everywhere! Jacob and I used to get a lot of joy from watching the silly things toddlers do during Sacrament meeting, and to some extent we still do. But now there is always an element of wistfulness for me.
Additionally, as I've mentioned before, infertility is a lonely thing. If there are couples we know who are dealing with this, I don't know about it, because it's not really something that people talk about it. And while I have a lot of people who care about me and try to be there to support me, there aren't many people I can talk to about what I'm experiencing.
I do know a couple of people who experienced this in the past, but they have children now. They have been wonderful in understanding that I'm really probably not okay most of the time, and they've had good advice. I am grateful for them, and I'm not saying they don't remember the heartache, but they are removed from it.
This means it's difficult to feel like I can really connect with people around me. And when you feel alone, it's even easier to feel overwhelmed with doubt and sorrow.
Anyway, these are just a few of the things I've been going through. If you have loved ones or friends who are also dealing with infertility, they're probably dealing with similar things. So if they seem grumpy or angry or even just distant, be understanding. Give them time and love. And when I'm being grumpy, angry, anti-social and distant (because I know I sometimes am), please be patient with me. I'm working on overcoming these things, but it's a slow process.
