I was dreading this Saturday because I had to attend a baby shower for one of my coworkers who is due in December. She's just a few months older than I am, only married a little over a year and got pregnant 'by accident' while training for a marathon. While I could go into details about how unfair that is I won't since it's not going to be any help to my clomid-induced mental status.
I worried that my day would end in sobbing tears after warding off side comments and jests about who they would be hosting the next baby shower for in the office. I being the next 'eligible candidate' because I'm the only married women of child-bearing age who has yet to produce spawn out of the 50 people in my department. I already know all eyes are expectantly on me and this was a prime moment for all present to ask their questions without being deemed nosey as we were all at a baby shower i.e. baby interrogations deemed appropriate for discussion.
I must have been protected by my higher power because, I kid you not, I did not have one question posed to me regarding my current baby-making status. And, I did not cry AT ALL yesterday. When I had just one small moment of weakness and my mind began to wander down the road of, "When will I have [insert whiny infertile comment]," I caught myself and gave a mental cry of, "Faith!," which effectively squelched the stinkn' thinkn' that would have inevitably followed.
What was even more encouraging came later that day. The hub and I went over to my parents house for dinner. My parents were cooking up a Clam Bake which is an excessive over-indulged annual event where we take a massive pot and toss in clams, chicken, potatoes, corn, and seasoning. Then we feast and transport home leftovers to make clam chowder etc. My brother, Aunt and Uncle joined in the fun. My mom pulled me aside during the evening to see how I was doing on the clomid and just in general. Life had been so busy for the two of us we hadn't talked all week until yesterday. I shared with her my updates and filled her in on what God had revealed to me from last weekend. As I talked about the verse in Isaiah and how it was connected to last Sunday's service I started quoting the verse to her. My mom's jaw dropped and she started saying it word for word with me. God had given that verse to her years ago when she was going through a difficult time. It was just a cool bonding connection to share with one another. It also confirmed that, in this world where Satan desires to make us feel alienated and alone to push us into despair, God breaks through and builds connections, to shed hope and light and let us know that we do not carry our burdens alone.