Hanging on to Hope

Sixty days.

That's the length of my last cycle.

It's a new record.

My body frustrates me.

Despite four negative tests and the fact that I had no signs of pregnancy part of me still believed that I was in fact pregnant, that this was my month.  Why else would my body torture me with the a cycle that seemed to last forever?  I let my hopes get so high that I scheduled a blood test at a local clinic in town for Thursday afternoon.  I didn't tell Andrew because I just knew I was going to be able to surprise him with good news.

And then I went to the bathroom.  

There was no need for a blood test.

Once again another cycle that didn't result in a pregnancy. 

I'm not sure how I  made it through the rest of the afternoon.  I felt like I was on autopilot trying not to break down in front of a room full of 6th graders.

As soon as I got in my car that afternoon the tears came.  

Oh the tears came.

To put it mildly I threw a screaming kicking fit.  I wanted to give up.  A part of me did give up.  I wanted to tell everyone we were never having kids.  I'm sorry to disappoint everyone but we all need to move on.  I needed the option to disappear.  I needed it to be a non-issue.

It wasn't pretty.  

As if the pain wasn't enough I came home to a package I had ordered a few weeks ago.  A sweet little shirt that says miracle baby.

I cried even harder.

It's funny because while the beginning of a new cycle can cause more pain than I could ever begin to describe to you, it also brings a new hope.  It's a new opportunity to try again.  It's another chance for God to bless us beyond our wildest dreams.

This journey of waiting is not an easy one.  Some days it seems unbearable.  

But I have hope.  Some have called it naivety.  But I KNOW that I serve a God who hears my cries, who knows the desires of my heart, and who loves me more than I could ever imagine.

His mercies are new each and every morning.