Refiner's Fire

I went into our marriage with unrealistic expectations. I remember hearing, often that the first two years are the hardest. "Not for us" I thought, "we're solid." What I didn't count on was all the "stuff" that was completely out of my control. We faced hurricane force winds in the beginning. At one point, we had to decide if we were going to stay married and work things out or walk away. We chose to stay and work. Because we worked at it, we built a strong foundation that kept us grounded through the coming years and all of the heartbreak and trials we would face. Many of sources of stress and heartache have been overcome, and some we still carry on our shoulders each day.

When I was a teenager, I had horrible, horrible cramps. I would miss days of school and just lay in the fetal position sobbing all day. Our first Thanksgiving together before we were married, I spent in the bathtub soaking to try to relieve the pain. Daniel sat outside the door talking to me, trying in vain to alleviate my suffering. I was worried after seeing that reality that he would run. He didn't. My sister had worked for an OB/GYN and told me she was sure that I had endometriosis. One of my doctors laughed at me and said that I couldn't possibly have it if I was still having a period. So, I did what every doctor from the time I was 15 told me to do, I tried birth control. We were married just a few months when I threw the pills out and assumed that a pregnancy would quickly follow. That assumption cost me months of tears and worry and stress. Lots of "just relax" comments came our way. FYI-don't ever say that to anyone trying to conceive.) My mom suggested a new doctor. The first visit, he did an exam and told me that I was completely full of endometriosis. He suggested surgery and said that my chances of conception in the first 6 months afterwards were high.

6 months later I went back to him with a broken heart. I was in a waiting room full of pregnant women and their small children and felt no hope for the future. As I sat in an exam room and listened to him tell me that I would probably never have children without serious interevention (he couldn't possibly have known that that term would mean the divine kind), I noticed a machine that aids in abortions and was struck again by the cruelty of our situation. I walked to the elevators and fell apart in Daniel's arms. I think I've blocked a lot of that time out. It was dark and lonely. I felt betrayed by my body. I felt like I had failed my husband. I felt my empty arms literally ache.

Yet something held us back from pursuing fertility doctors and treatment.

My Last Name

I was 17 when I met my future husband. A baby. He was a newly returned missionary. I had just moved to his hometown with my parents. I was struggling feeling like I belonged there. I had left my friends and familiar surroundings and moved twice in two years. I continued to attend the congregation in the town we had moved from each Sunday. The drive was long and lonely. I eventually decided to attend church with my parents in our new town. The first week I did, he was giving a talk at church. He says he remembers seeing me and thinking that I was "cute." I remember glancing his direction once and thinking, "he's old." Someone gave him my number though and he invited me on a date. I wrote in my journal that I felt like he was probably wanting to marry anyone who would say yes. After I went on the date, I wrote another entry about how Daniel was a prince and not to believe anything I say but that.

We quickly became friends and hung out with a group of really great people. I gravitated to him though and realized that I wanted to share things with him. When I had happy news, he was the first one I shared it with. When something crushed me, he helped lift my burden. Little by little, I fell in love with him. My mom told me right after meeting him that I was going to marry him. I thought she was crazy. Soon I was doodling our names in my notebooks (in true teenager fashion) and dreaming of a wedding. I had found this man who knew me better than anyone else, believed in me, praised me, taught me, laughed with me. I didn't want him to go away to school and date other people, so I gathered all of my courage and wrote him a letter telling him that I loved him and then I waited. I gave him the letter in the middle of the week.. We hung out once or twice after that week and he didn't say a thing about it. On Sunday, I went to church with my dad. A note was sitting in my seat after I got back from using the restroom. I will forever cherish those words as he explained to me that he had fallen in love with me too. That he had prayed about it for a long time and felt the reassurance that he should pursue a relationship with me. I rushed right back out of that meeting and called my mom crying (she was home sick) and told her that he loved me too. 

We dated just a few months before I started dropping hints about marriage. Thankfully, he wanted to marry me too. He planned an elaborate surprise proposal, all the while making me think I was surprising him. He enlisted the help of his cousin who told me we should do a fancy dinner date for Daniel after he returned from a family vacation. We dressed up and I insisted that he be blindfolded until we reached our destination. Since I was still fairly new to town, I got lost on my way there, but didn't think he would notice. To his credit, he held his tongue and played along. We arrived eventually and ate a beautiful meal. We talked in the privacy of a beautiful backyard gazebo area with music playing softly around us. When it was time for dessert to be served, I was shocked that the ice cream I had brought had been ignored and my brother showed up carrying a beautiful cake instead. On top of the cake was a glass slipper and inside the glass slipper was an engagement ring. Daniel got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. I cried tears of happiness for a very long time as we danced in circles to Dierks Bentley's song, "My Last Name." "Darling if you're wondering why I've got you here tonight, I want to be your husband, I want you to be my wife. I ain't got much to give you, but what I've got means everything, it's my last name." He made sure to include our family and they all came pouring out of various hiding spots. I didn't remember to actually say "yes" until hours later. He assured me that he had figured that out. That surprise set the bar high. Poor guy.

Daniel left for college and I jumped into wedding planning. Reality began to creep in and I was terrified. I remember shopping at a yard sale with my mom and she asked me about pots and pans. I started crying and realized I would have to cook. I didn't know how to cook. I didn't WANT to cook. (I still don't want to, fyi.) We were dealing with a long distance relationship and pressure from so many sources and I began to doubt. I would work myself up and feel like there was no way we could get married. And then I would see him and peace would wash over me. I continued to plan our wedding but I would be lying if I said that I didn't panic occassionally. Our wedding day was beautiful. I was given his last name and became his for Eternity. 

Storytelling

I ran into a friend yesterday who said she loves to follow our story and hear how our children came to our family. She encouraged me to write a book. She's not the first person to suggest this, but she reminded me how important our story will be to our kids. To have it all transcribed and not just kept safely inside my heart may prove to be challenging for me. It may require me to relive some really hard things and it may remind me of past failures. But it may also prove to be a beautiful reminder of my own growth and help heal some of the scars left by infertility, failed adoptions and adoption trauma. While I can't promise eloquent wording or happy endings, I can promise that this story is worth listening to. To read it is to read of miracles and of a God who guided us again and again until we found each of our 5 babies.

This is the story of how we became a family.