A Broken Heart

 When I was 9 years old, I went to live with my Dad and Stepmother. I didn't understand why Mama Diane had never had her own baby, and she explained to me about having to have a hysterectomy when she was a young lady. Not being able to have a baby seemed like the worst thing I could think of, but she made a great Mama for me, so I thought, that must be how God worked it all out.
 But at church, there were other families, families that had been trying for years and years, had lost babies to prematurity, miscarriage, and/or adoption process hang-ups. My heart was broken for these people, and I wanted to help. I secretly imagined or worried that since growing up and having my own babies was the most important thing I could dream up, I would be just like them, unable to have them. With Mama Diane's help, my little sister and I started a little adoption fund raiser for our children's church pastor and his wife. While I lived there, I never saw it come to anything, but from what I heard, years later, they finally brought home a little boy through adoption. I wish that I could have seen them as parents.
 Years later, as a new mommy, overseas while my husband was deployed, I became part of the Protestant women of the Chapel (PWOC). After a prayer session, which included prayers for one of our ladies ( a dear friend of mine) who was waiting for the test results on her husband's fertility test, it came up that a few of the ladies were surprised at how many women in the church struggled with infertility; it didn't surprise me at all. Ever since I was old enough to be aware of such things, I had people in my life struggling with this heart breaking issue. My heart still broke, and it still does.
 Yesterday, Patti posted about a giveawayto raise money for her son Jason and his wife Naomi  to adopt a baby of their own. Then today, Amy at Raising Arrows posted about having a heart for our infertile friends during our own pregnancies. Issues so dear to my heart and a calling I feel God has put on my life that I am still trying to understand completely.
 How I wish I could do something tangible for them. If nothing else, it reminds me what a precious gift my own fertility is; who am I to take for granted that this is something that is given to everyone. And while I try to understand exactly what God wants me to do to help my sisters through this sad, sad struggle, maybe I can help one family, just a little bit. I know that no one really reads this, but if you do, please, please donate to Naomi and Jason .
April is infertility awareness month, and if you don't think you know someone struggling with this, there is almost surely someone you know who is struggling silently. Look at your own babies and imagine what it wold be like.