Why is it so hard to build a family?

Right now, it seems to me like the only way it's easy to build a family is if you're a high-school kid on prom night.  But if you're educated, established, own a home, married, financially stable?  Nope, no Easy Button for you.

I know several women right now that are pregnant, were recently pregnant or are trying to get pregnant. 

Here's the rundown.

Laurie is due on May 20th with a healthy baby boy- praise the Lord!

Jen lost her baby at the beginning of March at 37 weeks gestation.  Kylie Elaine's funeral is set for next week.

A family member of mine lost her first baby at 12 weeks in January and is trying again to conceive.

A friend of mine has tried for six months or so without results, and is just longing for that pink line.

A friend of mine at work has battled infertility for the past year, and will find out on Monday if her second IUI (what we used to conceive Claire.. an interuterine insemination) was successful.

Another friend of mine at work is 14 weeks pregnant with her first and was told a couple weeks ago that her baby will be stillborn or will pass away shortly after birth.

If you're counting, that's one positive out of six.  Why?!  Why does it have to be so hard to have a healthy baby?   I can only imagine (and in some cases, I can imagine as I experienced it myself, although it is different for each person) the pain these women are feeling.  The fear of the unknown.  I can only imagine making the decision to carry your child to term knowing he or she will die, except for a miracle from God.  I look at my two beautiful children and wonder why I am so blessed and fortunate to be given the gift of mothering them.  God is Soveriegn, this I know.  But sometimes it is so hard to see how He can make good out of some of these circumstances.  When my friend at work cries about the future of her unborn baby and I compassionately express that I believe God can still heal, I honestly wonder how I could cope in this situation, even though I have hope in my Lord.  I remember when Josh and I went to Savannah the month before Claire was conceived.  It's hard to explain, but I honestly felt like a mother that was just on vacation without her child.  I think that when we long for a baby so strongly, the heart of a mother is created within us and we begin a deep love affair with our child who is yet to be.  It gives us a glimpse of the intensity with which we will love our children. 

No, I don't know why it is so hard.  And if you know me, you'll know by now that I do NOT believe that everything happens for a reason. I don't believe there's unequivocally a reason that Kylie stopped breathing just weeks before she was to be born.  But I do believe wholeheartedly that our Savior can make good out of these tragic situations.  And my prayer, each and every night, is for all of these women.  I pray for God's will to be done in their lives, and for it to be better than they could even imagine.

Here is a poem that I believe applies to all of these women.  Author unknown. (And no, I don't think women who experience infertility or loss are better mothers than those who don't). 

Thoughts on Becoming a Mother

There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics, or money or that I have read more books,

but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed.

I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child.

I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover. I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body, I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.

I have succeeded.

I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.

I listen.

And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely. I have learned the immerse power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.

I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes I will be a wonderful mother.