Tender Mercies (second half)

Weeks went by and the closer December (when I would begin medications) came the more anxious I became.  I would lay awake at night running through all the things that lie ahead for me.  I hardly slept and found myself having more nightmares than usual.  I told Paul at one point that I felt like I was doing everything I could to find Jesus and yet the lack of peace in my life was overwhelming.  I would read my scriptures and write down the thoughts and feelings that came to mind and then I would be fine for a day or so.  Days later I would find myself back in the same dark place all over again.  I owe a lot to my sister, she was there for me every time I felt like I was feeling around in the dark.  She always seemed to say exactly what I needed when I needed it.
I kept telling myself over and over that fear doesn't come from God and that maybe in some twisted way I was having a tiny bit of PTSD.  I had difficulty separating feelings of the spirit and what I thought was fear.
The day came to pick up my first medication from the pharmacy.  I put it off so long that I had to call Paul to have him pick it up before he returned home the day before I was supposed to take it.  I was still trying decide if this was actually the right thing.  Signing the pages and pages of paperwork explaining all the side effects and what could go wrong on top of having one of the pharmacists list off the 12-15 different medications I was supposed to take each for almost ten days, some for an entire month was adding to the overwhelming amount of mounting anxiety.
I was worried as I approached Paul that evening.  As I wept, I told him that I still didn't know what I was supposed to do.  I told him I wasn't sleeping and didn't feel an ounce of the peace or excitement I felt like I was supposed to feel, he assured me that everything was going to be okay and that we'd make the decision together.  I talked things over with my sister and then made a list of the pros and cons of what I was about to do.  My list of negative things filled one side of the page while the other only held a few.  One of which was the possibility of me getting pregnant...something I wanted so badly but it was truly only a possibility.
I cried as I poured out my soul in prayer that night.  I prayed to be enough to go through with it and I prayed that if it was wrong that I would know.
Paul woke me up the next morning before he left and we talked things through.  I realized with my sister's help that if I was more worried about going through with it than I was worried about not going through with it then maybe something was wrong.  We tentatively made the choice to walk away and while that hurt and brought on a new set of what ifs, it also felt peaceful.  We asked our ministering brothers to come by to give me a blessing that night and decided we'd make an official choice before the day was over.
I will never be able to thank these two men adequately for what they did.  I felt defeated and exhausted.  I'd cried more in the last few days than I had in a long time.  They walked in the door and talked with Paul for a few minutes before Paul shared a little bit about the decision we were making and thanked them for coming.  I sat and held Audrey far tighter than I had in a long time knowing that she truly is a miracle.  We try to keep all things baby related between Paul and me. Watching Audrey go through what she did when our adoption fell through was something that I never want to have to see again.  She was a bit confused as to what was going on but seemed to understand that I wasn't ready to tell her everything. 
I sat down in the chair in the middle of our living room as one of these men offered a prayer.  The spirit filled the room as this man wept and prayed for us.  That night his service to us was truly to mourn with those who mourn.  After that, the blessing was given.  I've found that the Heavenly Father never likes to tell us what to do despite my endless pleadings and while I'd like the answer spelled out on a white piece of paper I know no growth comes from that.  He did say that we would know the choice that we were to make and that people on the other side would rejoice at our decision. He also said that we would have more children.  The spirit was strong and while I didn't know in an instant what I was to do an overwhelming amount of peace was there and I felt like the heaviness of what I was carrying was gone.  When I got up from the chair everyone was wiping away tears and as they left the man that gave me a blessing told me that he felt strongly that he needed to tell me that he had never felt the spirit the way he had just minutes earlier while giving me a blessing.  He said he felt strongly that we were going to have more children and that Audrey should make space in her bedroom for someone else.
I have felt strongly for years that we would have more children. It has been the only thing that has brought me hope in the darkest moments with regards to infertility.  Lately that hope had been waning.  Audrey is 8 and sometimes my mind is very mortal and can't find place for the possibility of a miracle like that happening, obviously the odds aren't in our favor.
What Anton said that night has restored my hope.  A day later I found a note from him in the mailbox.  He talked of a story of giving a blessing to a woman in Russia who's daughter had ran away days earlier.  Her Mom was sure that she wouldn't return and that something awful was going to happen to her as they lived in an area that was known for crime.  He put his hands on her head and gave her a blessing saying that her daughter would return that evening and no harm would come to her, sure enough she returned. He said that up until giving me a blessing he had never felt the spirit as strongly as he did when giving this woman a blessing that night. As he continued, he re-emphasized his feelings on us having more children and said that he had no doubts that whatever our choice, he felt that we would have absolute success.
I used to think, and even offer prayers in my heart that if God was to give me a miracle that I would shout his praises from the rooftops.  I would bear testimony of his everlasting love and kindness with every chance that came my way.  Reflecting has a way of making you see things differently.  I've been putting together my blog book lately and came across my posts from two years before Audrey was born.  I wanted to shout through the screen, "Hang in there Emily! She's coming and she's beautiful and sweet and everything you ever imagined she would be!".   Later that night as I was thinking about these entries I remembered this previous prayer in my heart and I realized something I hadn't before.  Why would I wait to sing his praises? Why would I wait to bear testimony of His love and kindness....and peace, and joy, and comfort, and strength, and grace, and forgiveness?  He has been there in every moment...even the ones where I thought I couldn't find Him.  As I looked back on the last few months I saw Him and I was so grateful for the journey despite it's difficulties.
Ultimately we decided not to do IVF.  The peace that came after making that decision was overwhelming.  It wasn't without grief.  I cried the whole day after as I called doctors and cancelled prescriptions.  At one point I was at the sink washing dishes and crying.  I felt someone behind me and turned around but no one was there. I went to turn back around and the names of my grandparents came into my mind.  I still feel strongly like they were there with me bearing me up when I needed them.  God's tender mercies are endless.
Here I was  giving up what seemed to be my last chance.   Walking away from what seemed like the obvious choice was really hard.  While I'm not sure what the future holds and I try not to think about it too much, I know we made the right choice.
I know He is there in every detail of my life.  He knows me and Audrey and Paul, the desires of our hearts and what we need.  I know it's the same with all of his children.  His desire is to redeem us all and the process is not easy, but in the end we are promised that all will be made right.
I won't pretend that my life is harder than yours.  I know everyone struggles with their own trials and most are much harder than mine but I hope at the end of the day we can find hope and peace in Him.  I hope that we can shout his praises even in the midst of our most difficult trials.