Desperation

Please, oh please, oh please let this work.

I don't want to lose more embryos. It hurts more than I ever imagined it would to know we've already lost 5. Yes, they are microscopic cells. But they are the smallest of lives, complete with hair color, eye color, gender, likes and dislikes. They are tiny babies that a couple lovingly and painstakingly brought into this world. They are tiny lives that were sacrificially gifted to us.

I look into the eyes of the pictures we have our our donors' two kids. Our embryos' genetic siblings. Our embryos could be them. A blonde haired little girl, a sweet toddler taking swim lessons, signed up for her first year of soccer. A cuddly baby boy with wispy hair, the kind of boy you could scoop right up.

Every part of our lives have been about our embryos. Our time, our finances, our commitment, my body.

These embryos are created in God's image (Genesis 1:27). God knew them before they were even formed (Jeremiah 1:5). He is the Creator who forms them and knits them together. They are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139). 

There are so many reasons I want this to work.

Like Hannah, I am praying as deeply as I know how. Hannah prayed ("In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly"): "Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life". Once Samuel was born, Hannah acknowledged, "I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him" (1 Samuel).

I know God sees the big picture, He loves me, He is good. I know He gives and takes away. I know waiting helps to develop trust in Him. With that context, I beg him not to forget my family.

Please, oh please, oh please let this work.