There was a time not so long ago where I questioned God, questioned my faith, questioned my life, questioned my existence on this earth. And there was a time not so long ago where all I saw was pain, day in and day out. Where nothing was enough and where everything hurt.
There was a time not so long ago where I was ready to end it all, and for the life of me I do not know why, because I know what it is like to grow up without a mother. Perhaps that is what saved me – knowing that I could never leave my miracle girl alone in this world without a mother. But then again, maybe it was a greater force…
It hasn’t been that long since I hit rock bottom, but with the help of my friends, my family, and most importantly with the help of God – I have been saved. I have realised that while I went through the worst sort of pain you can imagine, while I felt inside that I was abused, violated, shamed, hurt by those who are supposed to love me, it doesn’t matter – I have been forgiven and I have forgiven those who hurt me. It is because of the love that God has for me that I can now tell you that everything that brought me to this point was worth it.
2009 began my journey to faith, to believing that miracles can happen to even the most seemingly ordinary of us all. That miracles can happen to me. Me, little old me.
It all began with a longing, a desire, and a want for a little baby girl. It sounds ungrateful, but as long as I can remember I have always wanted a baby girl. I have always wanted to be the mother I never had. To somehow make my dreams of what my mother would have been like into reality through me. So, in 2008 after a long time of pondering my husband and I finally decided to take the plunge and stop taking the pill. To be honest we both thought that it was going to be as simple as that. We both thought that within weeks, perhaps months we would be pregnant. But it wasn’t to be.
Instead, it was to be that I was to endeavour on a journey to faith, hope, and love. Instead of opening the door to the “easy road” God opened the door to a road that would lead me to a place that would shape me into the person I am today.
In 2009 we faced 4 unsuccessful rounds of IUI’s even before we began IVF. Each time I can remember the excitement and anticipation, dreaming of my baby girl. And each time when the tests came back negative was like a stab to my heart, each time was a new question to my faith, to whether I actually believed that a God could put me through such pain. Then in August 2009 I, we, were convinced by the doctor to undergo a round of IVF. I was pumped full of hormones, my eggs were collected, fertilised, grown and put back into me – just like that. Each step was exciting, my husband and I believing for a child. I was dreaming day in and day out of a baby girl… and on September 7, 2009 I received a call – I was pregnant.
But it wasn’t to be. A few days later, after sharing the news with the world, with everyone that I knew in my life – I miscarried.
A little part of me died that day. I fell apart in ways I never knew I could. I cried. I cried until the tears ran dry, I hated God with everything that was inside of me. And still to this day I know that little part of me really did die that day…
But then, after a month of crying, I got my hope back. My strength returned and we made the choice to try again. To open the door once again and find the strength to give our baby another chance to be.
However, as the IVF rounds continued month after month without success, our hopes dwindled and our pain, our pain increased until we were both so confused, so cursed inside that we couldn’t decided to continue our journey. We didn’t know what was the right thing to do. Our hearts told us never to give up on our baby, but our minds told us that we couldn’t go on. That the emotional pain and turmoil was just too much, it was just too much to bear for both of us. That was November 27, 2009.
That was the day I will always look back on as the day I first heard God speak clearly to me. It was on that day that I hated him more than anything. It was on that day that I just wanted him to make everything ok, and it was on that day that he did – I just wasn’t to realise it until a year later.
It was on that day that the journey to meeting my miracle truly began – but that is a long story that can be read over HERE [link to be added shortly in the mean time have a look HERE]. This is simply the IVF story to my faith… To giving you the hope to know that miracles can and will happen if you simply open your heart up to them, to God.
That day may have been the first time I truly heard God, but it wasn’t to be the last time, nor was it to be the first or last time that God showed me just what it is to have faith, to be loved by your creator and to know that no matter what he has a plan for each and everyone of us. That he had a plan for me.
Sometimes I wish I could say that the rest of my journey to my miracle baby was easy, that I had complete faith in God after that day, and that my heart felt no fear as I had complete trust in God, but I can’t. I had fear; I hated God for so long. I questioned why, even after that day where he spoke to me, that he put me through thinking I was not pregnant, through thinking I was going to miscarry, why he put me through a high risk pregnancy where I was told time and time by doctors, to just proceed without hope for a baby. I hated him and questioned him for so long “why me?” “Why us?” why couldn’t it just be simple? But then on August 25, 2010 I gave birth to a daughter.
A daughter.
The daughter I had been praying for since the year my mother died. A daughter to cherish and love. A daughter who I chose to name after my mother.
How could I not believe in God, in miracles, in being saved, in being loved by a creator of the world? How could I look at the sunrises from that day forward and not know with every ounce of certainty that there was a God, that God was real, and that he was alive in my heart?
How after so long of wanting, of needing, of screaming, of begging and pleading, of hoping – God showed me what it was to love and to be loved unconditionally.
I am healed, I sit here crying not because I am sad, or angry, or still hurting, but because I am healed, because he healed me. Because I have a baby girl, a husband, and a God that love me no matter who I am, what I feel, or how I portray my emotions. I sit here with tears in my eyes because I Cheryl Schull am whole.
Because in Jesus name I am now whole.
And to thank him, to show him my gratitude for all that I am and for all that I have I am dedicating the rest of my life to helping others. To using the gift he gave me for words, for empathy, for hope, for faith and for intense love to show others that he is alive and that he can heal you no matter how deep the pain you harbour in your heart is.
I wrote a letter to my miracle on September 23, 2009 – The day i became the woman who was Chasing A Miracle.
To my dearest little miracle,
I spent 2009 chasing you, wanting you, needing you. I feel apart; I could not go on, yet I sought you more than anything on this earth. I imagined you everywhere, my pain not stopping until somehow you were inside of me growing into who you have become today. I wanted to believe that you would come to me naturally and I wanted to believe that miracles happened, but I knew in my heart, that if you were to be ours, I would have to try again and again.
Nobody knows the pain and nobody knows the journey like those who have to face IVF. September 23rd 2009 marked 100 days left of the year. Each day of the 100 remaining days I documented my journey as I wanted to share my story with others, so that those who have never traveled this journey know just how blessed they are, and so that those who share my journey know that they are not alone on their path. And so you know that miracles happen, it’s just sometimes they need a helping hand.
Know that your father and I love you more than anything on this earth and no matter what happened, no matter what challenges were thrown our way, we faced the 100 days of IVF chasing a miracle searching for you.
Love always from a mother that may never be.
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