LackOfNothing

Sabbaticals sound pretty nice, in theory. I’ve heard of companies giving their employees 2 month sabbaticals after 20 years of service; I’ve seen missionaries take sabbaticals from their mission work, but sabbaticals from infertility treatments are… difficult. What do you do in an infertility sabbatical (when you’re not “Giuiliana and Bill” on TLC with money to spend on starting restaurants and traveling the world)? Ideally, it would be best if you could:

A. Stop thinking about babies completely,
B. Do something constructive with your time to assist in accomplishing point A., and
C. Enjoy life.

We’ve all been taught that when you eliminate something from your life, you need to replace it with something else. Leaving an empty void will only cause a relapse. There are positive ways of doing this, and there are destructive ways. It was clear after a year that I had chosen a destructive path.

I decided that I wanted to make myself busy. I have always loved volleyball, and with my desk job, I rarely had an opportunity to get outside. I searched for outdoor volleyball leagues in the area with openings, and found one right away. D enjoys volleyball, but has knee trouble. He would not be able to join a weekly league and play consistently, so I joined alone. I played summer and winter (indoors) with my team, and I loved it. I decided that getting in shape would be a new priority for me. I have never had trouble staying “fit”, but I’m definitely not a healthy person (I love candy like Will Ferrell on Elf).

There is definitely more to this thought than meets the eye, and I’m sure there is a really great psychologist who can explain my reaction at this time, but in my mind I decided that since I would not be privy to the side effects of motherhood (stretch marks, baby weight, saggy boobs), it seemed as though I should enjoy the fact that my body was still mostly intact. I got outside, I worked out, laid out, and tried to forget about what I was lacking.

As you might be able to imagine, focusing solely on yourself in order to heal is not the way to solve anything. In summary, by the end of our 1-year sabbatical, I had a pinched-nerve from too much volleyball, a marriage in the shambles, and a tan.

By the end of that year, I had fallen before the throne the Grace harder than I had in years. Instead of being overwhelmed with the lack of control over my own fertility, I was completely powerless, culpable, empty, and inadequate…

Right where God wanted me.

2 Timothy 2:20-21 (ESV) states-
“Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.”

Who wouldn’t want to be an empty vessel, ready to be of good use to the Master? Some people learn the hard way, and I am one of those people.

God was working in my heart, and I was not ready for the project. I felt as though my heart required a caution sign “Construction zone: beware of falling debris”. My life is not promised to be easy, but I am so grateful that my future is in the hands of the Almighty God.

The interesting part of this post is that I am having trouble deciding where it ends… technically (to this moment), the sabbatical never ended. There was never a decision made about the future growth of this family. There has only been one plan that D and I have agreed upon, it still has not come to fruition. It’s all about timing. More to come on that.