Today we did something we haven’t done in a really long time: we went to church. We pretty much stopped going a year ago, after 2 years of sporadic attendance. We’ve been back one time since then, and it was a disaster.
It’s so hard to be in the midst of all of the young couples at church – they are all in the process of starting or building their families. Being surrounded by them makes all the positivity I struggle to maintain melt away. I think “why is it so easy for them, and so hard for us?” We don’t fit in. The longer this goes on, the less we get invited to. We’re the odd ones. I would come home and be depressed for the rest of the day. Eventually it wasn’t worth the pain.
But we want to start going to church again, so we went today. It took a week to psych ourselves up. I spent the morning mentally preparing.
Within 5 minutes of being in the building, we saw 3 very pregnant women – like 8 months pregnant. They all looked very happy. The service opened with a baby dedication for a couple my age who have just had their third kid. I didn’t look up. I didn’t trust myself to watch. I spent several minutes writing our names in the attendance book. When I was finished, it looked like a 5-year old had written it. I concentrated on breathing. I repeated a mantra to myself. I did not cry.
The baby dedication was followed by a boy scouts thing. Then the guy who did communion gave a shout-out to his grandson. The service ended with the announcement of the “parents’ lunch” after church.
I continued my concentrated breathing.
Going to church is painful. Where other people may feel peace and comfort, I feel exactly the opposite. It brings into sharper focus what we don’t have. It reminds me that we are being left behind. People always say that things will happen when they are meant to happen. But people who say this already have children. So it doesn’t make us feel better; it feels more like our pain isn’t being taken seriously.
I have more to say on that subject, but I’ll save it for another post.
We’ve told a few people at church what we’re going through, and they’ve all been very supportive. No one pressured us to go back to church; they actually said “That’s tough; that’s understandable. We will pray for you.” And that was comforting. No one minimized our feelings. That’s the only reason we’re giving it another try.
I came across a quote the other day that is very true and fairly relevant:
“When someone having a great day says, ‘Trust God,’ to someone in pain, it sounds like a heartless accusation. It also robs the suffering believer of the opportunity to testify about God’s grace. It’s the comforter’s job to weep; it’s the hurting person’s job, when he or she is ready, to tell others about God’s sufficiency. Too often it happens the other way around. Would-be comforters leave people weeping after ‘bearing witness’ to them that God is sufficient.”
-from The Infertility Companion