Infertility is hard. It is painful (literally and physically). It is expensive. It strikes at the core of every women, and impedes on our ability to carry out the very mandate we were created to fulfill; "Be fruitful and multiply…" Sometimes I can look at the way the Lord has written our story and be thankful for what he has given. I can see how he has used many of the painful things in my life and brought good from them, turning the purpose evil had intended on its head. But many times I am not thankful, and I feel the accuser attacking my God and my faith. The blessing of children is one that test my faith because it is something ONLY the Lord can do, and feels as though he blesses many, but is withholding from me. My heart yearns to understand, and longs for core longings to be fulfilled. The last time I went down the road of testing and treatment, I didn't share much with others. Keeping private was a way to protect myself from greater pain when/if nothing happened. However, this time I have decided to share the journey with those who desire to read it. I am sharing because I believe in the power of vulnerability and community. Because I know that my own heart begins to breath when I hear/see others struggling with the same thing. Because I know that healing does not necessarily come in receiving whatever it is we feel we need, instead it comes in living authentically with those who choose to enter into the mess with you to hurt when you hurt and rejoice when you rejoice. In that place of surrender and vulnerability is a gift of intimacy and tranquility I have found no other place. This too is a unique blessing, which only God can give.