Putting Myself Out There

This past Monday was so very emotional.  My parents left town, which always makes me weepy, but in addition to that I was speaking at a women's ministry event that evening to share with others about what infertility is like.  When I was first approached I kind of laughed it off and thought, "There is NO WAY I'm doing that!"  I've talked about before on this blog how I don't want to be a poster child for this disease, let alone be the face of it at our church.  But, low and behold, God worked on my heart and I found myself saying yes a few weeks later.

I wasn't very nervous in the weeks leading up the event, but I definitely asked for prayer from a few friends in Seattle who are familiar with my journey and knew I'd be doing this.  Then, the evening before and the day of the event I was getting pretty nervous.  Public speaking doesn't usually bother me after being in drama for years and teaching in front of kids every day, but for some reason this event really had me going.   I had practiced my speech, which grew to close to 15 minutes long, several times and I had only cried in one spot.  I was nervous about showing my emotions, but they are real and they are there, and if I cried once during the speech I was OK with that.

When I arrived my emotions were already on the brink.  The enormity of what I was about to do was all very real.  I haven't shared one-on-one with many people because I have been hurt in the past by some comments, but sharing in front of a large group of women (probably about 70-80) was an entirely different thing.  Women from all ages were there-college, retired, career women, but the group I was most nervous about was MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers).  This was the group I wanted to be in, but instead I have always viewed them from the shadows.  This was the group of people that probably know the most people struggling with infertility right now but also were the same demographic of people who often didn't get it because they got pregnant without much trouble.   What would they think?

My speech basically consisted of two parts: my journey thus far and the emotions associated with it and a list of what others can do/should know about how they can be understanding for those who know someone struggling with this.  The waterworks started pretty early on, and I must have cried at least 4 separate times on stage.  It was much more difficult to get through then I ever imagined.  I cried when I talked about what it was like when I actually accepted my diagnosis.  I cried when I talked about staring at so many failed tests on my bathroom floor.  I cried when I talked about all the things infertility has robbed me of.  I cried when I said I would finally be a Mommy through adoption.

My wonderful small group, Hoping Like Hannah, helped me come up with the latter part, the list of things to share, and I was happy to know I had their full support as I was reading this even though the things I said might not be understood by those who haven't struggled with this.  I figure if even one person will think about what I said or if someone in that room is struggling with this silently perhaps they will be motivated to come to our small group to get support.

After my speech they played the video I have posted on my site previously.  As usual, I couldn't hold it together during this either, but I think I was so emotionally drained it was just a combination of the words on the screen and the enormity of what I just did that made me unable to hold back the tears.

After the event I was second guessing everything I did.  Did I cry too much (although I don't know how I would have been able to stop that).  Was it worth putting myself out there?  Did people gain any new understanding?  A few days later I received an e-mail from the Women's Ministry director which helped me feel better about how it went.  I guess I might never know how God used me that evening, but I pray that people will have a better understanding if they walked in my shoes for a little bit.