Sometimes, the waiting game simply sucks.

Other times, it’s not so much the impatience for an answer but the wrong answer that sucks. At least with the waiting, there’s hope. You can dream about shopping for tiny booties or how excited you’ll be when you tell him. The day that big wrong answer comes, those dreams are gone.

You try to stay positive. You try to smile and convince yourself that maybe the timing wasn’t quite right yet. Maybe next month will be better because then there’s a chance you’ll be together for an ultrasound. Maybe next month, you’ll have had time to come up with a more creative way to break the news. Maybe next month, it will be neat because the due date could be near a holiday or a birthday or whatever. But deep down you know that maybe next month, you’ll still be faced with the whys that plague you today.

It’s ugly when jealously and judgement rear their heads. When your friends announce good news and quickly follow it up with, “We weren’t trying! Actually, we were trying to wait! It just happened! I mean, of course we’re thrilled though.”

In those moments, it’s all I can do to bite my tongue and hold back a sharp, “That must be a nice problem to have.”

God doesn’t get the benefit of my filter. He hears all the whys and the tears and the questions about why the teenager got knocked-up in the backseat of a car but my month after month by body refuses to cooperate.

This time, it’s hard not to judge those around me. It’s hard not to point fingers at the parents not doing it right and disqualify them. It’s hard not to look at couples complaining about lack of sleep and not slap them. It’s hard to confront that deep down, I think I’m more worthy of it than they are.

That’s when life gets hard.

I read an article this week that talked about how you can’t control whether or not you have depression, you can only control your response to it. God, I don’t know whether or not you will ever bless me with two pink lines. I would love that. I would treasure that. But God, I do know that You are good. I do know that whether or not I receive that gift in that way, You are the only Giver of Good in my life. I do know that while I cannot control my fertility, You can. And not only are You capable, you are doing it right now. You are pouring Your love and goodness into my body each month, even in the days when my eyes flood before you asking why.

I cannot control my fertility. I can control my response and I will chose to praise. God, it might be hard to hear through the tears, but I trust you. I know that You are good. I know that You care. I know that You will provide. I pray that You will turn this mourning into laughter.

Maybe someday I will feel differently. Maybe someday, my heart won’t ache the way it does right now. Today is not that day. Today is that day that I pray as Sarah and Hannah did. The day I pray that you will answer me as Elizabeth was answered, by taking away my shame. Today I pray trusting You, the Giver of Life, to give life within my body. Today I pray for the privilege of raising an arrow to send into this sin-torn world to bear Your name.

Father, please hear my prayer and not my angry heart.