Can Tears be Converted to Tears of Joy?

Yesterday, as I held my greatest treasure in my arms while tears flowed freely, feeling the gasping convulsions associated with the sobbing of a broken heart, and listening to the quiet whisperings of a woman so torn that life had reached a breaking point, I quietly wondered if those tears could be converted into tears of joy.

I didn't do so well at it.

The only thing that seemed to break into the thoughts were "when life is in the toilet, it just really seems crappy," which actually resulted in quite a few potty puns (and not just from me, though I may have been a purveyor of most) and one slight smile that cracked through.

When I stopped doing one task and said "there's just one more thing I need to do real quick" (I STILL purport that what she thought was not what I meant), and she cracked up, I took that as the biggest victory of the day.  I'd rather think about that smile than about selling the car, fixing things, or getting the media player at home fixed.  I didn't care about the ongoing issues between neighbors, nor the guy I saw walking out of Home Depot carrying a handgun on his belt.  I didn't care about running to grab door latch hardware, or getting things organized.

I had a smile... from HER.  The BEST thing to happen all weekend.  It was sorely needed - and we both knew it.

It's been said that infertility is like a death in the family.  That is true.  The problem is that this "death in the family" doesn't end because the pain never subsides.  A friend becoming pregnant can cause the death to happen again.  Not being selected with a possible adoption can cause it to happen again.  Being around people that aren't aware (they may be sensitive enough, but just have no idea to even think about infertility - an out-of-sight-out-of-mind thing) can cause the pain.  Even thinking about the future can cause that hopeless loss we deal with day in and day out.  We live in a culture where babies are expected - and that dynamic is also something that causes the pain again, and again, and again.

None of this was caused by that this weekend.  It just happened.  And it keeps on happening.  Strong is the woman that stands tall.  Powerful is the wife that, when she has nothing else to give, gives just a little bit more.  Amazing is the girl that dons a happy face while trying to visit the sick, worry about the widows, and care for the needy.  Incredible is the lady that pushes forward, even when all seems lost.

She essentially laughs in the face of infertility, but she does it with tears.  Oh, how my heart aches for that fine woman!