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!

Things Mr. Fix-It Can't Fix

I have two hands (a left and a right, duh - only my feet are two lefties).  On one hand, I have this relentless desire to fix problems.  On the other hand are problems.  Sometimes.... just sometimes.... the two don't work together very well.  There are problems that Mr. Fix-It cannot fix.

Take for instance our trial - no children.  It's a problem that I'd love to fix.  It would take a miracle to fix it, one that would either be an almost-but-not-impossible miracle of conception, or the miracle of adoption.  However, it hasn't happened.  Sometimes.... it feels like we are simply empty fuel tanks, with nothing else to give.  We are broken, crushed, and devastated (and have been for years).

Tonight, I find myself sitting on the edge of the couch, worried about my sweet wife.  As tears of heart-hurt roll down her cheek, catching the dim light of an evening floodlight, I sit longingly, unable to do anything.  I make attempts at distracting her from her thoughts, but to no avail.  I attempt to bring some humor into the situation, but it doesn't help.  I tell her I love her, but it doesn't make the pain go away.  I have a problem that cannot be repaired.  I watch her fight her way through experiences of having friends have happy pregnancies with a feigned smile, only to come home at night and cry.  I watch her hide her emotions from even me, and panic that I might lose this spectacular woman.  In this, the whisperings of God are drowned in the loud, screaming pain.  I can't fix the hurt she experiences - there is no solution that I can facilitate.

I am helpless.  It is the worst experience I've ever felt.  (Just to keep things in perspective, this experience also happens the very night I drop a wrench while under the car and bloody up the bridge of my nose between the eyes - not even that ache comes close to watching someone you love experience pain that you can do nothing about.)  This is an awful hell, and I cannot get her out of it.  I wouldn't wish this one on my worst enemy, and sometimes, not even my closest friends can help.  We are alone, even when we are not.  Is this really worth the fight?