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Dear God

April 1, 2010

Why can’t we get on the same page?

I feel like you enjoy it when people are proactive in their lives and do things for themselves instead of just asking you to take care of it all. This is why I’m regularly visiting my RE, popping pills and stabbing myself in the gut with injections.

I’m trying. Really hard.

Where are you?

I know you’re here because you’re the head cheerleader in my personal Cheerios squad. You lift me up when I fall after another failed cycle. You keep me positive and focused when I start a new one. You’ve been part of my marriage and keep things between Rob and I smooth as butter so we can face infertility together instead of against one another. You’ve blessed me with a wide net of support, and you’ve managed to bribe them into sticking by me.

God, not only am I medically/physically trying, I’m mentally and emotionally trying So Very Hard. It would be So Very Easy to let the failure keep me down, to snarl and foam at the mouth as I witness the endless parade of positive pregnancy tests, big ultrasounds and amazing, sweet babies who grow into fun, wonderful kids.

I was a kid once, too. I’m somebody’s baby.

God, I know that each pregnancy I see, each baby I meet, each kid I play with – they’re going to grow into their place in this world, and each place is one you have planned out. That’s why I’ve never once wondered why one baby was born to one mother and father and not to me and Rob. That’s their time and place, not ours. You don’t run a baby factory that they stole from what you had designated for me. Their baby does not have a single thing to do with our no-baby. Well, except that their baby reminds me of our no-baby. All the time.

I just wish I could see your plan for me.

Am I wrong to seek medical help? Am I wrong to time things, to take medication? Should I wait for you? Are you waiting for me?

God, I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know if I should back off and not try so hard; if I should let you take over and see if you want to do this on your own. I don’t know if that’s giving up or being faithful. I don’t know if I should try harder and seek further medical interventions.

Am I trying too hard? Am I not trying enough? Is this just not the time? Did we already miss the time you had planned for us?

God, what’s got me down most is that you know my heart. You know the bruising it’s taking with these repeated failures. You know how I question my worth as a woman and a wife, how my husband can bring to the table wonderful test results and prognoses, amazing odds, and I continue to bring failure after failure. No matter how good results are, my body refuses to put them to use.

God, you certainly haven’t given more than I can handle, but I’m exhausted. I’m emotionally drained. I’ve gone numb to the negative pregnancy tests, and I have to work harder to enter each new cycle with high steps and no dragging feet.

I’m tired of delivering bad news to my husband, family and friends. I’m tired of building hope only to have it crushed. I’m tired of fighting my demons, those rare but ugly bitter feelings.

If you and I were married, my friends would suggest a divorce. God, this relationship has to work both ways. You can’t expect me to try and try and try without you putting in your share of the effort. We haven’t taken the medical intervention to the max, but we’ve done A Lot of work. Without you, though, it’s all for nothing.

My patience is wearing thin, but I’m afraid to give up just as you’ve decided I have paid my dues and done what you planned for me. I’m afraid to keep going because I don’t want to fail if you’re testing my faith in you rather than medicine (though you know I believe you work together).

I know you’re there, and I know you’re listening. I truly appreciate gentle pats and boosts you’ve given me. I’m not so down this time around and have shed minimal tears. I don’t need the pep talk this time.

I need answers.


46 Comments leave one →
  1. April 1, 2010 7:27 pm


  2. Beth Anne permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:28 pm

    I love you.

    (even if you want to foam at the mouth)

  3. Jen permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:30 pm

    Hugs to you

  4. Alena permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:33 pm

    So I know that we’re just new friends and all. But I feel super close to you after reading this. If I could hug you I would. So expect it. May 7th!

  5. April 1, 2010 7:35 pm

    I’m emailing you in a minute … I felt this exact same way …

  6. Jenny permalink*
    April 1, 2010 7:36 pm


    I cried a bit this morning when talking some things through with Rob.

    I wrote this entire thing dry-eyed and strong as a rock.

    Then the comments started pouring in, and I’m sobbing at my desk.

    I’m so glad the computer stands between us. I’m a hot mess.

  7. April 1, 2010 7:37 pm

    I hope you get those answers soon, friend. I’m thinking of you every day.

  8. jvonwallenstein permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:37 pm

    Oh, honey. What a beautifully written letter. ((hugs))

  9. Beth Anne permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:52 pm

    I happen to be very fucking pissed that a computer stands between us. 🙂

  10. MegPie250 permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:53 pm

    Hi my friend. I just wanted to add my voice to this post to make it that much stronger. ::hugs:: I heart you and your infallible spirit. ::more hugs::

  11. Carrie permalink
    April 1, 2010 7:55 pm

    I am so, so, so very sorry. My thoughts and prayers are with you and Rob.

  12. April 1, 2010 7:59 pm

    My aunt & uncle have been struggling with infertility for nearly 13 years now. It’s so hard to see someone you love go through such a tough struggle, and I feel for all four of you.

    I’ve always wondered, though, what if God is denying my aunt & uncle their own child because he wants them to adopt a child that NEEDS a family just as badly as they want one?Maybe that is God’s plan for you & Rob, too?

    Love & prayers are going your way from me.

    • Jenny permalink*
      April 1, 2010 8:07 pm

      I struggle with comments like yours. First, I ask the same questions. Second, I know you suggest from a good place. Third, no matter to what degree I agree with your questions, it is entirely inappropriate to ask me such a thing. I am uncomfortable enough questioning God’s plan for myself, and I know myself and my relationship with God. What qualifies you for such a personal question?

      I know that’s going to come off much more brash than I intend, and PLEASE don’t think I’m going to hunt you down and punch you or unfollow you or ignore you. I respect people and their opinions and their right to them.

      But, please. Read the IFComm101 at the top of my blog.

      • Jenny permalink*
        April 1, 2010 8:09 pm

        Also, I try really hard to not reply much – if at all – to comments such as these because I know I come from a Super Emotional place, and replying through Super Strong Emotions just isn’t wise.

        But, still. I don’t want this to snowball, so I’m addressing it ASAP.

    • Beth Anne permalink
      April 1, 2010 8:18 pm

      ::sharpens claws::

      ::retracts them::

      ::practices grace & mercy::

      • Lillian permalink
        April 5, 2010 7:24 pm

        Whoa, guys. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful or ANYTHING like that. I honestly took a long time phrasing my post to make sure it did not seem that way. After reviewing it again, I don’t see how my question was too personal, but I apologize if it was.

        From my point of view, I’m dying to adopt a child but we simply can’t afford it. It hurts me knowing that so many people, my aunt & uncle included, spend SO MUCH money on IVF with no end results when they could have already had the baby they’ve always dreamed of if they had simply adopted.

        I am incredibly sorry that my question hurt you, I NEVER meant to make matters worse.

      • Jenny permalink*
        April 5, 2010 7:42 pm

        The IF Comm 101 page should clearly explain why suggesting adoption is inappropriate. What I found too personal was questioning God’s plans for me. As I said, I have enough difficulty questioning his plans for me, and I know myself and my relationship with God.

        You have no place to question God’s plans for me. You are fully entitled to in your own head, but I take issue when you bring it to me.

        Not. Your. Place.

  13. Ally permalink
    April 1, 2010 8:04 pm

    xoxoxoxoxo x 1 million

  14. mmariluh permalink
    April 1, 2010 8:07 pm

    You’re in my thoughts and prayers. I hope you get your answer soon. It’s a beautiful letter.

  15. April 1, 2010 8:08 pm

    Hugs to you!! Good for you to get all the thoughts/feelings/emotions out. Just wish were there w/ a hug & beverage of choice to make it a little less tough to face.

  16. April 1, 2010 8:10 pm

    I love you & am continually impressed with your strength. Whatever you two decide, will be the right answer, because I think that’s how that works. *huge, gigantic hugs filled w/ love, support and booze!*

  17. April 1, 2010 8:30 pm

    {{{hugs}}} I admire your strength more than you can imagine. My heart aches for you. Me thinks we need to meet sooner rather than later…

    • April 1, 2010 8:33 pm


      That’s me BTW–The Mrs… Just wanted to tell you that you are not the only one crying… more {{{hugs}}}

  18. April 1, 2010 8:32 pm


    1. I love the way you write. Your posts are so eloquent. I know it sounds saying that about your struggle and grief, but you should know how well you write about it.

    2. You write your comment responses with such grace. Way to be!

    3. Big hugs! I have enjoyed “getting to know you” very much over the interwebs and think you are one fabulous gal!


    • Jenny permalink*
      April 1, 2010 8:35 pm

      Writing compliments from J-buddies are the absolute best and mean the world to me.

      And? Just for fun?

  19. April 1, 2010 8:39 pm

    Hey Jen,

    I found your blog through Heir to Blair. I just wanted to let you know that I have PCOS as well and I know, first-hand, what you’re going through. I will definitely keep you in my prayers.


  20. April 1, 2010 8:46 pm

    oy- i don’t like to say this often, but i DO know how you feel.

    i know the actual pain you feel in your heart, the jealousy that makes your cheeks burn, the eyes pricked with hot tears, the throat that aches from holding back, the sick feeling in your stomach every time you pee on that stick- it kills me that you have to feel this.

    IF sucks more than anything. i always hesitated to question Him- i mean, how dare i? why me? why this? why so effing long? dear GOD, what did i do wrong?!
    ugh. but how can you not question?
    we’re human, He understands.

    and you’re his daughter and He IS listening, and He is there.

    i hope He answers soon. and until that time, i’ll pray.

  21. April 1, 2010 8:47 pm

    ps. sorry i shortened your name. i hate it when people call me kat, or katie. it won’t happen again. 😛

    • Jenny permalink*
      April 1, 2010 8:50 pm

      No, ma’am! No apologies for that. I only call *myself* Jenny. I’m Jennifer, Jenny, Jen, Gentry, Jennifree (don’t ask), J …

      You see what I’m saying. Everyone has their own name for me, and I like it.

  22. April 1, 2010 8:53 pm

    I read. I cry. I get mad at the God. I have a friend that is going through the same scenario and it breaks my heart. This breaks my heart. I know you will get your baby, its going to happen. One way or another I just know it.

  23. April 1, 2010 9:00 pm

    I love you, Jenny.

    I think the only positive thing about IF is you’re never alone. You always have your significant other and there are always other people out there struggling too. I wouldn’t wish IF on my worst enemy because I know the pain it causes. Just know if you ever need to send one of those #(*#%)*@#(%*)@#( emails my inbox is open too. And I just might send one right back to you.

  24. Laura permalink
    April 1, 2010 9:08 pm

    I’m tempted to get in my car and and drive until I can hug you in person. Even if it will be midnight before I get there. I love you friend. SO much.

  25. sarah permalink
    April 1, 2010 9:11 pm

    I love you Jenny – you and your strength amaze me every day. Hugs to you tonight and always.

  26. Grace permalink
    April 1, 2010 9:23 pm

    I was in tears as I read your letter. Thank you for sharing it. I hope you get the answers that you’re looking for.

    I wish that I could give you a hug, not just an e-hug through your blog or Twitter, lol.

  27. April 1, 2010 9:25 pm

    I was in your place once—–7 years ago. I am not sure how I would feel having someone comment “been there done that.”

    I just didn’t want you to think you are alone in your thoughts.

    I could have written this same post.

    Except I never had that strong a bond with God to share your confidence.

    I wish I had.

    I wish I do.

    I wish I had something profound and brilliant to say. I know that for me, know one could have said anything.

    But I do know that I reached out to others that had gone before me and somehow it helped. I know everyone is different.

    I guess I would rather chance saying the wrong thing than regret not saying anything at all.

    I so very much wish you peace. Endless endless endless immediate peace.

  28. Melora permalink
    April 1, 2010 9:31 pm

    I love your blog. I’m amazed at your strength and determination. This post made me tear up. I’m cheering for you always!

  29. April 1, 2010 9:55 pm

    This is a beautiful and amazing post. I am new to your blog, but I’m joining your squad of Cheerios.

    Lots of hugs and good wishes to you.

  30. Liz permalink
    April 1, 2010 9:57 pm


    I know I emailed you before about being in the awful club that on one wants to be a part of… I hurt for you right now. I wish there was something that I could say to make you feel better but I remember how there is really nothing anyone can say or do at this point. Just know that we are here for you, rooting for you, and that hugs are being sent your way!


  31. April 1, 2010 10:52 pm

    Another cheerio here. And a not too frequent nc nestie (that’s how I “know” you if it makes it less creepy)! You are going to have some stories to tell on the other side of this journey- but I know it’s tough not seeing where in the world the “other side” of the journey comes in to play. Thinking of you and sending T&P your way.

    PS- I feel like Joey Tribianni using too many air quotes- but hopefully correctly.

  32. April 1, 2010 11:05 pm

    Oh Jenny. This makes me so sad.

    I often wonder why some people are gifted children so easily and others aren’t. It makes me angry to think about and I don’t have any experience with IF beyond watching friends suffer.

    I just wanted you to know that I’m praying and cheering right along with so many others.


  33. Paige permalink
    April 1, 2010 11:14 pm

    I wish there was something I could do. Anything.


  34. speed permalink
    April 2, 2010 12:03 am

    As if “Just Adopting” were so easy. I wonder if the well-meaning (but complete morons) who suggest such “simple” things know all the red tape and hoops and MONEY that it takes to “Just Adopt”. If Lillian likes the idea of adopting so much, perhaps that is part of God’s plan for her. Or maybe in reading Jenny’s plea, she’ll acquire some of Jenny’s endless amounts of grace and mercy through osmosis and apply it… Liberally.

    Jenny, my heart hurts for you. Like I said before, if IF were a person, I’d totally kick that sonofabitch in the crotch. ::hugs:: and maybe some sausage? 🙂

  35. April 2, 2010 12:26 am

    I’m not sure of what to say, but I wanted to add my voice to those who offer sympathy and admiration of your strength here. Please know that so many of us are thinking about and praying for you ::hugs::

  36. April 2, 2010 7:52 am

    1ST ->I’ve been a lurker for a while now, but I feel like I had to comment on this.
    2nd-> I feel like the issue of infertility is EVERY WHERE around me, and (I hope this doesn’t come out wrong) I am thankful that you write about it. It sucks that you are going through this (understatement) but sometimes I feel like you say what others can’t. When I was reading this letter- I kept thinking- “this is exactly it.” This is what is so hard to read- and even harder to say or write. These are the words that are so hard to mumble to yourself, and harder to whisper to God. The point that you reach where you just want to know what to do to please Him. Because why would He places such a strong desire to be a mother without LETTING you be a MOTHER!!!

    So- in a really strange way- thanks for being strong enough to show us the weaker moments. So that we don’t feel so much along in ours.

  37. tamerbelles permalink
    April 2, 2010 9:12 am

    You know Jenny, *they* always said to “write what you know.”

    This entry makes it obvious that doing so creates some beautiful writing.

    But, I really wish you never had to “know” infertility and what you are feeling right now. I’m so sorry hun.

  38. April 2, 2010 7:55 pm

    1. I am so sorry. I have been thinking of you every day and praying for you.

    2. I hate it when people make those “maybe you’re meant to adopt” comments because it makes it hard for those of us who have gotten those comments in the past to focus on the post of the actual blogger and not the inappropriateness of the comment, kindly meant or otherwise. And yeah, it’s so not like that, and it’s so far from that simple.

    3. I don’t know that we ever understand the plan until we’re actually given the gift. For years I thought his plan was that I go around the world to become a mother, I was honestly pretty sure. I was wrong and I was given a child I never expected to be blessed with. And the moment I met her I knew that the path that lead to her was so perfect and flawless and that I had done everything I was supposed to do, even when I doubted. There was no way such perfection could have been achieved without it being his plan. And looking back it made perfect sense.

    I don’t know the answer, I just know that for me, staying open to all possibilities ended up being the best decision we made. It sounds from other posts like this is what you’re doing.

    4. Still thinking of you and still praying. Hugs.

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