It IS Well

Long time, no writing. Well, no published writing that is. While I haven’t really published a blog post in a while, I’ve certainly kept up with it. It’s my therapy, my release, my safe space. And this one is probably my proudest entry yet and I had to share. Not just because it’s a praise report, but because of what my husband and I truly learned throughout the journey. I hope you enjoy the heart of this story and I hope no matter what season you are in, you find the joy and remember…it IS well.

For the past two years, Taylor and I were on a journey that many people don’t see or talk about openly, often because of the shame that can come with it.

For two years we tried to expand our family, and month after month, it was a no.

Every month we carried so much hope, and then would be crushed with disappointment. It’s a pain that is hard to explain. So many people would ask us, “When are you guys going to have kids?”, and we know that they meant well. But, what they didn’t know, was that sometimes I had just taken a pregnancy test that was negative that morning or had just cried in Taylor’s arms the night before, asking what was “wrong with me?”.

This is a quiet kind of heartbreak. Life keeps moving around you, but inside you’re grieving something you want so deeply. You don’t really have answers. You feel inadequate. You feel like a failure.

There were moments where it felt debilitating. Moments where my faith felt fractured. Moments where I questioned God, questioned what I believed He had spoken over our lives, and wondered if it would ever happen for us.

Last offseason, thanks to a close friend’s encouragement and support, Taylor and I decided to take a step and made an appointment with a fertility clinic. We started the process of doing tests, seeing specialists, and preparing ourselves for whatever treatment we were told we needed.

But, during that time, we also made a promise to each other.

We said we were going to live.

No more putting life on hold. No more waiting to be happy until something changed. No more vision boards or timelines trying to control the future. We decided we were going to enjoy the life God had already given us. We were going to enjoy our marriage, our family, our friends and trust that no matter what the outcome was, God’s plan for our lives would still be good and He was still a good God.

We said if we became parents, we would celebrate that with our whole hearts. And if we didn’t, we would still live full lives being the best Auntie E, Uncle Tay, and mentors to the children and young adults already around us and entrusted in our care.

Then, in December, we went to a prayer service at our church. That was the first time Taylor and I publicly opened up a little about our struggle to conceive. We shared what we had been walking through and received prayer.

Looking back now, I truly believe that moment of vulnerability from both of us mattered. Because God calls us to live in community, and real community requires honesty. Sometimes healing begins the moment we stop carrying things alone and drop our pride.

Then fast forward one month.

Three days after our wedding anniversary and the day before our appointment to begin fertility treatment, I took a test.

And it was positive. POSITIVE. After more negative tests than I could count, a positive? The DAY before fertility treatments started? I was in shock. Tay was in shock. But, immediately it’s like the past years played through our heads showing us the change and shift in our lives, getting us to THIS moment. Our first positive.

During this season, there was a verse that Taylor and I clung to. Psalm 126:5 says, “Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy.” And there were many tears.

BUT, we held onto the hope that God saw every single one of them and that every single one mattered.

And our community mattered so much. Even when many of them didn’t know the pain we were carrying, they were still carrying us. Through their prayers, through their smiles and hugs, their  encouragement, and simply by being a place where we could come and be surrounded by faith when ours lacked.

I truly believe the heart of this story isn’t just that we’re expecting our baby boy this September.

I think the heart of this story is about the power of vulnerability and the power of learning to enjoy what God has already placed in front of you.

During that season, Taylor and I began to realize that blessings aren’t just the big things we’re praying for. Blessings are also the small things. Those everyday things that can start to feel mundane if we’re not careful. Like, our marriage, our time together, our family, our friends, our favorite foods and shows. The life God had already given us.

It wasn’t until we truly started thanking God for those things and really seeing them as gifts that something in our hearts shifted. Looking back now, I think I also came to a deeper understanding of my favorite phrase, “it will be well”.

For a long time, I silently thought those words meant everything would eventually work out the way I hoped, giving me some sort of let go but also still having some control, haha. Then, somewhere along the journey, God gently showed me something different.

“It will be well” didn’t mean that there would be no sorrow, no disappointment, unanswered questions, or silence from God. It meant that even in the middle of those things, there was still goodness to be found, still joy to experience, and still a good life to be lived.

Now, that doesn’t erase the very real pain we felt or the tears we cried. Those emotions were very real and very much so there. But, I learned that sorrow and joy can exist at the same time. As my therapist always reminds me, “two things can be true” (S/O to Lindsey).

When we finally stopped waiting for a future or “bigger” blessing to determine our happiness, we began to see that God had been surrounding us with blessings all along.

Everything wasn’t perfect like in all the movies I fawn over, but it was well.

So yes, this pregnancy is an answered prayer and we are so incredibly grateful God chose us to steward our son💙.

But, the real miracle that happened in us was learning how to live again. Learning to enjoy the life we were already living. Learning to thank God not only for the prayers He answered the way we hoped, but also for the ones He answered differently and even the ones He didn’t answer at all. Because sometimes those were answered prayers too, we just didn’t recognize them yet.

So, I guess if I could leave you with anything today, it would be this:

• Don’t wait for the big miracle to start recognizing God’s goodness.

• Be vulnerable enough to let people walk with you through your struggles.

• Be grateful enough to recognize the blessings that are already in your life.

• And be present enough to enjoy the season God has you in right now and LIVE!!!!!!!

And if you’re in a season right now where you feel like you are sowing in tears, please don’t lose hope. Things can change in the blink of an eye and I can only speak for myself, but the pain is just a distant memory when God turns it all around. And, in this instance at least, the pain had a bigger purpose and I can’t wait to tell our son how in waiting for him changed our lives truly. We wouldn’t be who we are if it weren’t for the season that lead us to him. Please keep holding on.

It will be well….no…it IS well,

E