Monday, February 19, 2018

our raw, honest, emotional journey with secondary infertility.

I fought the Lord for a long time about this post. Months ago, I felt a tug on my heart to share about our journey with secondary infertility. Even though I vowed to write what the Lord laid on my heart when I began writing as more than a hobby, I'm ashamed to say I told Him "no" time and time again. I couldn't imagine putting one of the most heartbreaking times of our life on the internet, for everyone in the world to see.
But I'm here. I showed up. God led me here, with His hand in mine, after reminding me over and over again that our stories are not just for our own personal growth but to help others in their journey, too.

So I'm sitting in my tiny corner of the internet, almost ready to share the raw, honest, and emotional truth of our journey with secondary infertility.

I am a mother. I became a mother when my first daughter was formed in my womb and I’ve been a mother every day since then. I have felt little feet against my ribs, I’ve held a newborn in my arms, and I’ve watched my daughter grow every day. I’m so blessed that I could scream it from the inmost parts of my heart and it still wouldn’t be enough.

When the dream of a second child landed on mine and Kyle's heart, we were a tad terrified. To be honest, we still are. But we were excited. We dreamt of Lilli holding her brother or sister, bonding with him/her, and watching them grow up together.

We were so excited.

“There is a unique pain that comes from preparing a place in your heart for a child that never comes.” - David Platt

It took us a few months to conceive Lilli so I wasn't expecting it to happen right away. And it didn't. A few months passed with my womb still empty.

But we were still hopeful. We were certain it would happen soon, just like it happened with Lilli. Even when I struggled with my health, we were still hopeful.

We were so hopeful.

“Struggling with infertility is like dealing with the five stages of grief every month. You deny, bargain, get angry, cry, then, finally, accept. Then you pick yourself back up and do it all over again.”

But then a few more months passed, then a few more, and the pregnancy tests were still negative. Kyle and I started to worry. Maybe something was wrong.

So I went and saw a specialist. I sat in the comfortable little office, looking at the photos of hundreds of beautiful babies that the specialist had a part in bringing over into this world. I smiled, certain that our second baby would soon be on that wall.

Even though the doctor smiled back at me as we sat in her office, it didn't take her very long for her smile to break. 

"It does seem that there are some problems that are hindering your ability to conceive."

Her words were like a swift punch to the gut and just like that, my smile, my hope, my excitement - it was all gone. None of it made sense. I was pregnant once before, I have a healthy, beautiful little girl.

None of this makes sense.

Is this God's way of telling us that we aren't meant to have another baby?

It's been the number one question on my mind. Maybe we're not cut out for more than one child. Maybe I'm not a good mom. Maybe we're being selfish for wanting another. Maybe this is God's way of saying "no" and we just need to accept it.

Is it?

"God puts dreams in your heart that are bigger than you so that you will rely on Him and His power, not your own."

Even as I scheduled test after test after test, I can't say for certain that I feel we'll have a second baby. Do I still have a dream that we'll welcome a second child into our home, one way or another? Yes. But I have absolutely no idea what God has in store for our family and that absolutely terrifies me and excites me at the same time.

But I do know that whatever happens - if we raise one child or six - that my life is a reflection of God's perfect plan, and you can't get any better than perfect.

I know that whatever happens, I'm so, so unbelievably grateful for the dreams God has already made come true, including the ones I didn't even know I had. 

I know that whatever happens, I will always have hope.


  1. Thank you for sharing, Brandi. You are so brave. I’m praying for you guys. 💗💗💗

  2. Thank you so much for sharing this, Brandi. You are a beautiful example and testament of God's love and remaining faithful to His plan. I've also questioned things that have happened in what we thought was our plan, but surrendering to His will far out weigh whatever we thought possible. I will be praying for you, friend! Sierra~Beautifully Candid

    1. Thank you for that reminder, Sierra! You are so right. Thank you for your prayers! They are so appreciated.

  3. I’m just... I’m just sobbing reading this. My journey is different but it is still this painful. I’ve always said I miss a person who is still only an idea to me. I’m grieving for someone I don’t even know... every... single... month.

    I also need you to know that this is a crappy club and nobody wants to be here but if I had to be here with anybody it’d be you. Thank you for your strong words and reminder that God is so much bigger!

    And please feel free to get a hold of me when it’s hard. Because it’s hard AND sits lobelt. ❤️❤️ -Abbey

    1. Abbey, you are the sweetest! I'm so sorry for all the pain you have been through. There may be different areas of the "Infertility Club" but it's still a crappy club to be in. I'm praying for you as well, sweet friend!