Infertility and Insufficiency

I found out the summer before going to college that I am likely infertile. My uterus is as thick as leather and completely misshapen, and my hormones are totally out of whack.

Endometriosis, the doctor said.

When she said that I may or may not be able to have children, but that she didn't think it was possible, I was actually somewhat unfazed at first.

Then it donned on me: No kids of my own. No pregnancy. My boyfriend (who later became my husband) would be so disappointed. He loved and yearned for children.

You see, I've never had strong inclinations one way or another about children. I would love to have kids someday, but I'm more than open to adoption. And -- at the end of the day -- if God doesn't bless me with children at all, that's okay too.

But I couldn't bare the thought of telling my boyfriend. I suddenly felt completely insufficient. I was not enough to carry our children. I was not enough to be the wife and mother I ultimately wanted to become.

Now, I should clarify that I don't blame any of this on my ex-husband. When I told him about the diagnosis, he was nothing but supportive. We talked through it and decided that when the time was right, we would try to have children naturally. But we also wanted to adopt. He loved me through all of it.

The feelings of insufficiency were all on me. I felt like I was not enough. I confined myself to my ex-husband's dreams, his goals.

Divorce has been an amazing teacher of independence. It has reminded me that I can and should follow my own heart. It has reminded me that I should measure myself not by the measuring sticks of others, but by my own.