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Instead of being outstretched in worship during chapel, I found my arms wrapped around my body and the empty feelings resonating inside my core again. Empty, so empty.Tears coursed down my cheeks, as a fellow teacher moved over to embrace me. She held my hand in an acknowledgement of shared pain.

“You’re not in a good place, are you?” she queried, not expecting an answer. “I know my Lauren. When she is not just about floating on the ceiling while singing, something is not right.”

No, I’m not in a good place. I had hoped to keep this painful part of my life from coloring the published entries in this blog. When I created “acupofbliss,” Coffee and cafe reviews seemed like a reasonable subject to write about. Teaching also fit the bill as an educational topic full of funny anecdotes. Reflections on grad school even seemed like a more productive, uplifting area of my life to discuss versus this shadow of disappointment clouding my vision. My prayer journal is filled with enough of my agonizing cries.

To no avail. Today, I want answers. Tomorrow, I might be okay. But, tonight, I want to stop wishing, hoping, and fearing. In my efforts to distract myself and give my sorrow to Christ, I am finding time-consuming activities, but not healing.

Sometimes it is okay to not be okay. As I continue to wrestle with infertility and God’s timing, I find myself doing more research on treatment alternatives yet unexplored. The search is exhausting. Possibilities are endless, but finding a solution is like looking for a needle in the proverbial haystack. Nutritionists, doctor, and now chiropractor have all offered remedies that so far have fallen flat. Most have made me more sick and miserable than I felt before attempting the recommended regimen. It seems that I find the courage to hope just to have my dreams dashed again and again and again. Usually, I’ve hidden the description of my symptoms and negative reactions from the outside world. I’m good at faking it. Trying to get pregnant is supposed to be a private, wondrous affair. It is not supposed to be a public debacle. This empty, empty road was not one that I wanted to walk. But, walking it I am.

Walk with me if you dare. I know that I’m not alone. My body aches with the desire to curl up in a ball and sob. Till there are no more tears. Till hope is restored. Till a miracle happens. Tonight, I am anything but brave and courageous. Tonight, emptiness echoes off the confines of my barren body and lonely arms.

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