See my previous post if you need to be reminded how much I love Max.
So, the husband is a pastor. And a pretty good one at that. He preaches great sermons, always knows the right things to say, loves people unconditionally, etc. He never lets on if/when his faith is wavering.
I, on the other hand, have always had a bit of a problem with faith. Of course, the issues have intensified with the infertility battle. This Sunday, the message was about prayer. We first watched a short video about the ways God answers prayer. Sometimes he says yes, sometimes it's delayed, sometimes it's denied.
Well, during the children's sermon (which precedes the actual sermon and is a way to dumb it down for the kids before they leave for Children's Church), Max stumbled and didn't say the right think. He used a very specific example to illustrate prayer to the children. He talked about when he was a kid, he prayed for a baby sister. He prayed every day for a baby sister, but he never got one. And now looking back he realizes it's because he wouldn't have been a good big brother and they weren't meant to be that kind of family.
Stab. Me. In. The. Heart.
Now, I know that a rational person doesn't make this connection. But I have infertility brain (I stole this from a new blogger, she writes about it here). For me, everything relates back to our infertility. And to me, when he said that, I heard "God isn't answering our prayer because Hattie won't be a good mother and we aren't meant to be that kind of family." This thing I've thought so many times, Max also thinks. Ouch.
I am not nurturing, in any sense of the word. I'm selfish, sometimes lazy, forgetful, sarcastic, and cynical. Those things do not make a good mother. I have a friend who suffered through infertility about 2 years ago. After trying to conceive for a long time and a few short rounds of test, they found that her husband is sterile. After a few heartbroken months, they turned to adoption and now have an amazing son. Through her adoption journey, the most common comment was "It will happen. She was born to be a mother." or "If anyone deserves to be a mother, it's her." No one has ever or will ever say that about me. So is that why I can't get pregnant?
I immediately started crying in the back pew of our small church. Church has been a real struggle for me for the past 6 months or so. It is so weird to be in a room full of people that love each other, conversations happening all around, hugs flying everywhere, and to feel so alone. So I sat on the back pew, surrounded by people, all alone and crying. I made it about 7 minutes until the next song started and I had to get out. I didn't hear the message. I don't know what else Max said about prayer. But I have been begging God for a long time for a baby, so I guess I have a lot to learn.
Obviously Max knew I left. He knew I was upset. But he doesn't know why. I don't know why I can't talk about this with him. I've always been able to tell him anything. But now, the only place I can say what I want is here.