Still Here.

I’ve struggled with what to write since I returned off my Lenten fast of Social Media. It was AMAZING, by the way, and I still wrestle with whether I want to fully engage again or start retreating away from it all.

So many times I wanted to write about where we are in this infertility journey, but found myself at a loss or just staring for hours at one lonely sentence.

“We are still here and still in it.”

photo 5

I wanted so badly to be able to log-on and type those exciting words that I typed last October only then to have to erase them in my heart.

We’ve been waiting, still, and the choice we made – I made – he made – was to try to live joyfully. Not to shy away in a reclusive state, but to find ways to move forward, to find reasons to smile and laugh, and to figure out how to live hopefully in this seemingly never-ending situation.

This is where blogging and life, in general, can get pretty weird. I started writing about infertility awhile ago, but even before that…years before that, I was talking about it with the people in our life. It’s not just been part of our journey…it IS our story and has been for the last 6-7 years. There’s no nice, neat red bow to tie on it…it’s not finished yet.

We press on, walking together Jay & I, and we try to figure out how to do more than just exist…we try to figure out ways to live life abundantly and with a strange joy in the unfinished…in this middle-earth sort of place.

photo 3

I have NO idea when or IF there will be some resolution to our story, if that red bow will ever be tied on. Our life’s story remains in this dichotomy of hopefulness in the hopeless. We fight to hope for the family we both believe we will have one day and yet, we try to not become fixated on the things we cannot see or make happen.

This weekend/holiday has been a hard one to wince through for the past few years, but this year, for some reason, all I want to do and feel is celebration.

To celebrate my mother & my grandmothers. To celebrate the many, many mother-friends in my circles. To celebrate the mothers I encounter on a daily basis who trust us to teach their children how to be better, educated, loving human beings at our school. To celebrate the mothers who are about to be – waiting and holding their breath while their bellies grow. To celebrate the mothers who are “mother and father” as they raise their children alone. To celebrate the mothers who are so, so strong as they battle disease, heartache and loss. To celebrate the mothers who FIGHT for the return of their daughters, ripped from their lives.

To celebrate with the mothers whose children may never become a reality. You, mother, I stand with in solidarity today and for you, mother, I will weep until our stories make sense. For you, mother, I will try to smile and I will try to look for the joy in this waiting place.

“We are still here and still in it…together.”



7 thoughts on “Still Here.

  1. Myra Boulware

    My cup runneth over!!! Because of the daughter and the grandaughter , the sister, and the wife you are. The friend and encourager you are to so many. . . my daughter, my eldest, my testimony of God’s grace, mercy and joy!!! To quote a wise soul (Jay), I love you “to the moon and back”!!!
    Love, Mom


  2. Dad

    i’m at a place where i often find myself thinking about life and it’s meaning. You know, turning fifty and all, and when i read your thoughts articulated, i stand in awe. I’m in awe of a Holy God that saw value in your parent’s future to warrant blessing them with the privilege of spending this life with you as part of it. I stand in awe of your heart’s desire to express the journey of the depths that life’s trials are taking you. I stand in awe of the grace reflected by your efforts to lighten the load of those around you. Most of all, I stand in awe at the fervor in how you approach each day. I LOVE YOU- Dad


    • lovelyhuckleberry

      If only I could read this comment without crying – I love you guys to pieces! You are the BEST parents a girl could ask for;) ❤ LOVE YOU


  3. Sian

    Hello there. I’ve followed your story off and on as it reminds me so much of me. We are also infertile and always will be. We also blogged our journey. If you think it may be helpful, check us out here: My heart bleeds for you, very few understand the pain and anguish you are going through. There is nothing anyone can say either to make it better or even easier. All I can say is “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way” (as the scripture says). Big hug.


    • lovelyhuckleberry

      Hi Sian – thanks for your comment! It’s always good to hear from those who know, really know, what this journey feels like. Thanks for sharing your blog, I’ll definitely keep up with it. Thanks again for the hug and encouraging words;).


  4. mypreconceivedlife

    This is so beautiful and so, so inspiring. I’ve had to make the decision to make peace with the present moment again and again in my life–usually daily–and it is never easy. But it is always worth it. This post makes my heart sing. I hope there is as much joy and beauty in your journey as there is pain. xoxo


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