Over the years, I have gotten better at taking a compliment.  I used to be horrible! 

I am also not great at telling people the good qualities about myself.  But, I mean, who is?  My hair used to be great (please see embarrassing Glamour Shot below for proof!), but then age, infertility, and pregnancy decided to destroy the luscious locks.  I still am in need of that fringe jacket, by the way!

Now that I am 40ish, I am willing to admit my strengths are the following:

1. I make amazing gluten free chocolate chip cookies,
2. I am a very fast reader,
3. My knowledge of college sports and the Dallas Cowboys is like that of an ESPN-obsessed teenage boy. I love sports, and am currently obsessed with March Madness. Go Duke!

That is all I am willing to come up with. Reid would say I have an amazing strength at spending money at Target. But, really, should something so easy be considered a strength?!?

Throughout our infertility journey and through the miscarriages we endured, I have always been told that I am strong. That was one compliment I have had a very hard time accepting. For much of the decade we dealt with our issues, I didn’t feel strong, I felt pathetic.  I felt lonely.  I felt sad.  I did not feel strong.

However, after starting this blog just over a year ago, and talking with SO MANY other women that have walked this road along side of me, I got it. I am strong. One of the bravest decisions I ever had to make was to finally let go of what was hurting me. To walk away from trying to continue to grow our family was heartbreaking, but it was brave. And I am stronger for it.

God made me strong. Not infertility. Not losing the twins. Not losing my sweet Sophie. God made me strong. He just allowed me to use my strength to survive the grief.

You are strong. Going through infertility and dealing with loss is HARD. And, you ARE strong.

Everyone is strong in their own way. Everyone handles grief differently, and strength presents itself in all kinds of ways.

You may feel weak. You may feel tired. You may be deciding which road to turn down next.

You may decide to:

• End your journey and decide to not become a parent
• Go down the road of adoption
• No longer grow your family, and just love the child(ren) you have been blessed with
• Continue with IVF, IUI, or other infertility treatments
• Cry into your pillow, feel broken and alone

Whichever path you chose to take, you are strong.  It may not feel like it, but you are strong.  It is amazing what a hardship can show you and how it can make you grow.  Looking back nine years, I was desperate to give Harlan a sibling, heartbroken from losing a few babies, and lonely because I felt like I was the only one ever to have walked a road of infertility and loss.  I want to give that girl a big hug.  I was desperate, I was heartbroken, and I was lonely.  But, what I didn’t know, was that bubbling under the surface was strength.  I am strong.  You are strong.

This post is for those of you that are walking a road of hardship right now.  Those that are dealing with infertility and desperate to have a child.  For the woman that has just experienced a miscarriage and is filled with soul-crushing grief.  For the friend that is trying to comfort someone walking this road.  Praying for all of you today. You are strong!