If you have not had the chance to read the Infertility Chronicles: “Shirt Packed and Big Girl Panties On,” “To Be Continued…” or “Trading In My Big Girl Panties,” then I suggest you head on over there first before continuing to the conclusion of this saga below. If not, you might be as lost as an Easter Egg on Christmas morning.
Snorkel and fins–check.
Nose plug–check.
Water floaties–check.
Big girl panties? Washed, dried, and tucked away in my dresser drawer.
Last week I traded in my big girl panties for all the essentials needed for a cannonball into the deep waters. This morning I stood trembling on the water’s edge wearing my snorkel, fins, nose plugs, and arm floaties. I was afraid, but I knew that I had to do it afraid. So without hesitation, I closed my eyes and screamed “CANNONBALL” as I jumped into the deep end where God was calling me.
As I started treading water, I thought about the past three weeks and how I’ve felt like I was in the game of “Clue,” going from room to room, seeking an unsuspecting “mystery woman” so that I could ask her to pray for me. I played this game because of an encounter I had with a stranger outside of Wal-Mart named “Bob.”
For three weeks, I have been carrying around extra t-shirts, hiking up my big girl panties so high I could tuck them into my bra, and now looking ridiculous as I doggy paddled in the deep end wearing a nose plug and floaties.
For three weeks, I have said “oh crap” each time I have thought about her, and the fear of looking absolutely absurd or worse, making her feel incredibly uncomfortable, has caused me to sweat and change my shirt.
It has been three weeks of playing this game of “Clue,” and honestly, I have been tired of it. There have been moments in my thinking in which I thought it didn’t matter if I found her or not, but my trust and reverence for God kept outweighing my personal wants to give up and my feelings of fear to run away and hide.
It has been three weeks, but this week, while treading in the deep end, the game of “Clue” is officially over. The game ended when a friend of mine arranged for her to meet me by the nursery after the first service. I was afraid. She was afraid. But while afraid, we did it anyway.
But today, she is no longer a “mystery woman” but rather my new friend. Even though this was out of her comfort zone, she tapped into God’s strength and boldness to share with me her story of going from barrenness to fruitfulness, and it’s simply amazing. Doctors told her that due to a family history of fertility problems and a past plagued with cancer that involved chemotherapy, she would not be able to have her own biological children.
Her dreams were shattered, and each time she saw another pregnant woman, her heart would break all over again. There even came a time in her infertility journey in which she gave up and surrendered to living a childless life, a choice every infertile woman fears having to make. But with tears in her eyes this morning, she gave God all the glory as she told me that while she was faithless, God was still faithful. She not only supernaturally conceived once but twice.
I am thankful to “Bob” for waiting outside of Walmart. I am thankful to all of the people who have helped me play this game of “Clue” for me to find this “mystery woman.” I am thankful to this woman for not saying “no” despite feeling nervous but instead pushing through her own fears and praying for me. I am thankful to God for also giving me the courage to look ridiculously silly as I did a cannonball into the deep end. I know that without God giving me the courage, this “mystery woman” would still be a “mystery” and not my new friend.
I have learned that there will be times when God will ask you to do something that will cause fear or dread. But instead of standing on the water’s edge, scared to go into the deep end, ask God for the strength and courage, and while you are still afraid, do it anyway. I promise that He will provide you with all the essentials needed… a snorkel, fins, nose plug, and arm floaties. All you have to do is close your eyes and jump in, screaming, “CANNONBALL!”
I want to add that I have not had a cycle since the beginning of April…which makes this cycle 70+ days (thank you, PCOS). This afternoon, after pressing “publish” on this post, I officially started a new cycle and am on calendar day 1. That’s not a coincidence; that’s Jesus.
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