One year ago today...

52 Fridays ago I discovered the tiny uterus I'd gone about life with for over 27 years, yet never knew about. 52 Fridays ago, my whole paradigm shifted. It's overwhelming to think that something that I have carried with me for my entire life in my body could possibly have been oblivious to me and upon its revelation have had such power over my emotions.

I wondered the other day why I must go through the endless monthly cycles of PMS and inconvenience if I may never get to cash in on the one benefit of having a uterus. And the reason we all have one in the first place. It's not fair. Why do I feel cheated, tricked and betrayed by my very own body? Sure, my body will gladly prepare each month for a baby, but forget about it actually following through to allow life to take root and grow. Why is there such a disconnect here? It's like an endless dress rehearsal for a show that never takes place.

I know of a woman who just had her first ultrasound after years of infertility. She explained how is was so good to see her baby, that it was small, but that it was THERE -- that she has seen way too many pictures of her empty uterus. The comment resonated with me and instantly brought me back to the days of endless ultrasounds of my own empty uterus. Each time alone in the ultrasound room, waiting on the tech to come in, I'd look across the room at the ultrasound pictures of pregnant uteruses on the wall and daydream about that being me. Me looking at my name at the top of a screen or picture of my uterus with a baby in it -- with life in it -- and something other than uninterrupted black and white fuzz. Anything other than empty, hollow, barren nothingness. Is it even possible that my womb could house life? At this point, it's hard to believe it ever will.

One year ago today, on this Friday, I knew sorrow and pain at a whole new level. It was more than I ever thought I could bare. Even though I had gone through a whole year of infertility already, somehow the year since finding out about the UU has been such a roller coaster of its own. I've known hope, disappointment, sorrow, pain, disbelief, frustration, helplessness and anger. Somehow in the cloud and haze of it all though, I've known grace too. I have experienced times of great peace and joy admist unspeakable pain. I have wrestled and cursed at and screamed and shunned the God I love but struggle to know. How could he allow such pain to sift through His hands? Twelve years ago, when my mom abandoned us and I became the mother to my three younger siblings at the age of 16, I struggled to understand God's purpose in it all. Where was He? But there were glimpses of grace and there was joy ahead. Twelve years later, I still don't have any more answers than the day my mom left. There have been no apologies or reconciliations on her end. There is no pretty bow. Things are actually probably worse. But I am at peace and I'm not bitter and I am okay and there was joy and there is joy in my life. I know that the same God who sustained me in those dark nights when I grasped for Him and couldn't sense him and placed each star in the sky also has a plan in all of this heartache. I know from past experience that while I may never have answers, apologies, a mom, or a baby of my own there IS joy ahead and enough strength and grace to take another step and even better, live a fulfilled, joyful life despite unthinkable pain.