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Several years ago—before my husband and I had even thought about kids—I remember hearing about a few people who couldn’t get pregnant right away.
It’s embarrassing to admit now, but I remember thinking to myself, when someone would mention one of these stories, they must be doing something wrong. They must be stressing too much. That would never happen to us.
Dang hindsight. Do you always have to be 20/20? (I try to make myself feel better now by telling myself that I least I never said that stuff out loud…it doesn’t work.)
How those unspoken words mock me now. Now that this has happened to us.
Now, when a friend asks me if I put my legs up “after,” well you know…those words mock me. I must be doing something wrong.
When someone suggests I relax by telling me about how their cousin’s friend’s aunt went on a vacation and then got pregnant, those words mock me. I must be stressing too much.
And when I finally admit to a pregnant friend that we’ve been struggling with this, I know what she must be thinking: She’s doing something wrong. She must be stressing too much. That didn’t happen to us.
After all, that’s what I would be thinking. (Thankfully, my friends are likely better people than I am, and are probably not actually thinking that.)
I didn’t even realize it until now, but I didn’t think infertility would happen to me because stuff like this doesn’t happen to me. I thought infertility happened to other people because they were too stressed or somehow messing something up.
How embarrassing. How absolutely embarrassing.
Turns out I was wrong. And maybe even that thought alone reveals how conceited I truly am: The realization that if infertility could happen to someone like me, it could happen to anyone.
But that’s not what this is about. It’s not about infertility even, really. It’s about me realizing that I’m not better than anyone else. It’s about me realizing how I’ve judged other people and the difficult situations they’re in without even realizing it. It’s about God needing to teach me humility when I didn’t (or more likely, because I didn’t) think pride was an issue for me.
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
Matthew 7:1-2
In other words, what I’m trying to say is that when I see a homeless man, I’m going to stop wondering what he did wrong. Or when a child does something terrible, I’m going to stop wondering how the parents messed up. Or when someone can’t get pregnant, I’m going to stop assuming that she’s doing something wrong. I’m no “better” than anyone else. I didn’t do anything to deserve the blessings I’ve been given — just like people going through hardships didn’t do anything to deserve those, either.
Nothing like an unexpected struggle to teach you a little bit of humility.
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