If one more person tells me some version of “just be patient” again, I might make them a hospital patient.
“Just be patient.”
“God is developing patience in you, through this.”
“Good things come to those who wait”
I read this somewhere and it struck out to me:
“The problem with infertility, is that it is not a patient, serene kind of waiting, not a simple delay in your plans; it happens for many of us in the context of consuming struggle, staggering expense, devastating loss.”
It’s not like I am a child waiting in the ice-cream line.
It’s not like I am a student, waiting for summer vacation.
It’s not even like I am searching for love, or a career, or something else desperately wanted.
It’s the kind of wait where I don’t know where the end is… or even if there is an end to the wait.
It’s the kind of wait that costs thousands and thousands of dollars, for just a sliver of hope and zero guarantees.
It’s the kind of wait that will stick with you forever, in the form of anxiety and fear, even after the wait is over.
Stop telling me to be patient.
Patience isn’t going to give me a free baby.
No, instead, I have to pay with my time, my money, my naivety, and my sanity.