My name is Samantha, and I’m 27 years old. For the past (almost) three years I have struggled with infertility. My husband and I got married August 29th 2014, in January of 2015 we decided to start trying for a baby. We had no clue what to expect but I can say we didn’t think it would be this hard. Within the first year I had three miscarriages. I don’t think anything could have prepared us for that. As the first one ripped through me I felt like I was dying, I saw the light go dim. Even with my husband there trying to do anything he could, the loneliness was so strong. Within the next year and a half I had two more miscarriages and an ectopic pregnancy. It never got easier. The miscarriages put me into a deep depression, turned me into a hermit, and slowly started making me bitter. Anyone who has ever walked this journey, or who is currently walking it, knows there’s nothing that can be said or done to make it any easier. 
Fast forward to Memorial Day weekend 2017, I knew I was pregnant but my Dr office was closed because of the holiday. I had called the nurse line a few times over the weekend because I was having abdominal pain, and they told me to rest and if it got any worse to go to the ER. The pain came and went, but was minimal so I didn’t go to the emergency room. Tuesday came around and I went to see my normal doctor so they could do an ultrasound and some blood work. I was an emotional wreck, to say the least. After the ultrasound I was told to go home and wait for the Dr to call me with the results, but not even 10 minutes after leaving the doctor’s office I received a call saying that I needed to turn around and come back. After returning, my doctor let me know that the pain I had been feeling was from an ectopic pregnancy and I had been bleeding internally all weekend, I was then informed that I needed to go to the ER straight from there so that surgery could be performed. The ectopic broke me. That day is one I don’t think I’ll ever forget. As soon as he said “ectopic” everything else became muffled. All I can remember thinking was “ Why? Why does this keep happening to me? Am I ever going to be a mother?”
So I left, and on my way to the ER I called my husband and told him the news. We live in Lake Arrowhead, so he rushed down the mountain with my mom in tow. When they arrived at the hospital I completely and utterly broke. The surgeon came in to tell us she would have to take the whole fallopian tube. In that moment my chances of being a mother were cut down to one tube, assuming it functioned properly. Family came to the hospital to love on us and pray for us, but it was all a morphine fog. I do clearly remember seeing my husband. He was sitting next to me, squeezing my hand with this look in his eyes – I had never seen that look before. That night was the first time I have ever seen him cry and it broke my heart even more. 
See, what most don’t know or think about, is the toll it takes to walk this journey. A dear friend of mine once said, “Its like living two lives, you have this heart shattering life where you are constantly reliving all of it, the pain, the doubts, the anger. Then you have the life that is moving around you, where everything is moving forward.” That’s the hard part. Feeling like you don’t want to let go in fear of losing that part of your life.
The longing to be a mother is still so strong inside of me. I think stronger than I ever thought it was. But so is the fear, the fear of losing another child, of letting my husband down, of letting myself down, of never having a child of my own. To this day words can not describe how hard it is for me to be around children, to celebrate other expecting mothers or birth announcements. No matter how happy I want to be for them and their bundles of joy, it breaks my heart all over again. Because I have begged and pleaded every time I’ve seen those two pink lines, I’ve cried countless nights, Ive prayed…and I am still a mother of six angels with empty arms and what feels like an even emptier heart. 
My sister asked me what God has shown me through this and to be completely honest, I don’t know that he has shown me much, or that I see it. In the beginning of all of this I knew he was there, though he was still silent at times, I felt him. Over the years I feel like he and I have become more and more distant. The pain is blinding, even when it comes to my relationship with God. I’ve been very angry with him. Not knowing how long this pain will last. Not knowing if my longing to be a mother will ever come to fruition. There’s so many questions I have that still don’t have answers. Trying to continue to keep the faith and hope alive within me has been very hard. It’s a constant battle because I know I need to stay close to him to truly find healing and to be able to survive this,  but that’s easier said then done with all the pain and disappointment.  
I wish I could say that I know it will get better….I wish I had an amazing story here with a beautiful ending, where I had my rainbow baby and I was able to shed some light on the pain you might be going through in order to give you some hope. Unfortunately I can’t do that. I am still walking in this but I do want you to know that you are not alone. 
Samantha Nelson
Since my sister sent this entry in to me, she received news from her doctor’s office, that her other fallopian tube is closed and none-functional. Her and her husband are slowly figuring out their next steps.
I have spent the last few weeks reading over her entry, partially out of duty in preparation for posting…and partially in grieving for my little sister. It was important to me that I encouraged her to be honest in her post, knowing that she is not in a place of “God is good and I know that this will all work out.” and maybe some of you reading this aren’t either, and you don’t feel like you’re allowed to be angry. Our Lord is big friends, and he is able to carry our pain, our hurt, and our anger…it’s never too much for him and he will never waste one drop. That’s true for my baby sister, and that’s true for you no matter where you are.
Though my sister is in the depths of her greatest valley yet, she is not unseen by God & her future is not hidden from him, he holds it all. And so exactly like I keep telling my sister, let me tell you…no matter how bad it hurts, don’t let yourself give up on God because he truly is the only thing that will get you through your most unfathomable pain. I promise you.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted;
    he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
Psalm 34:18
“He reached down from heaven and rescued me;
    he drew me out of deep waters.”
Psalm 18:16
“Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments.”
Deuteronomy 7:9

2 thoughts on “Samantha

  1. “You have so much to offer in your pain” that’s what I heard a preacher say today on the radio. I wasn’t sure what to take from that until I thought about it for a minute. But in reality when we are in the middle of that Valley and feeling the intense and sometimes endless jabs of pain, we are the most honest about what we are feeling. Never deny yourself of that. Allow yourself to feel, cry, scream and be angry. And most of all, allow yourself to mourn. Those too, are gifts from God and necessary. I love you with all my heart ❤️ Mom

    Liked by 2 people

  2. What a truly sad, and honest story, sweet Samantha. I’m so sorry, that your hearts desire has yet to come to fruition. Please don’t give up. You are so very deserving of being a mother, and I have faith that God will grant You, your hearts desire. ♡♡
    Our God is Awesome! You are a tough, independent, strong, and courageous woman. I know you’ve walked a very long, lonesome, and winding road.
    (I can’t even imagine your walk) God has been by your side this whole time. Please don’t forget that, You deserve to be a Mommy, and I know you will be, one day, in God’s time.
    I love your beautiful tattoo, honoring your beautiful Angels too. Much love and hugs to you, Suzette


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