Behind a glass wall

We can see through it but we cannot get to the other side, it's a glass wall. It's a glass wall of infertility. It's what separates us from so many people and so many things. It's silent, you can't see it, but we know it is there. We don't like it because the pain is so deep, but we don't know how to get rid of it. We hear news of people who have been on our side of the glass wall that no longer are, that have joyous news of miracles to be, and though we rejoice for them and the change in their story, we still have our pain. We have the hope that one day we will see the glass wall crumble, that we will get to be parents, but we don't see a way. We know that Jesus is with us in this desert place, in our hopelessness and our fear, he resides with us on our side of the glass wall, but we still don't understand. Some days we ignore the glass wall, we get pretty good at that, but other days we are so sad. Other days we allow ourselves to dream and pretend that it will happen, that this journey will have a happy ending, some days we wonder if we should open the adoption door back up, or if we're really ready to close the door for treatments. We wonder a lot and we think a lot. Maybe the Billings clinic, once we get around to calling it and once we have health insurance paperwork in place, maybe then they will help us in ways we could never have imagined. For now, we take some moments each day to pray for miracles and we wait and some days we even find a little bit of hope on our side of the glass wall.