There was a time not too long ago when I had completely lost all sense of joy in my life. It wasn’t depression; instead, I was so self-focused I couldn’t get outside of my own emotional pain over not being able to conceive. 

I have been married almost nine years, and when I think back on the first five years of my marriage, they are tinged with overwhelming grief and pain. My husband and I desperately wanted to be parents, and we had high hopes of being able to conceive and raise biological children. We did all the “right” things, we are faithful Catholics, and we were told over and over again that “everything looked right on paper,” so no one was quite sure why we weren’t able to conceive. 

Because there was no clearcut answer to our infertility, because we did all the “right things,” and because it seemed unfair that many people in all kinds of lifestyles were able to have children but we couldn’t, I fell deeper and deeper into anger, cynicism, and resentment. 

Most of those emotions were aimed at God, honestly. I didn’t understand why we (of all people!) had to carry this cross. Oh, the hubris! 

I preface my article on joy with that introduction because I think it’s important to note that we can’t always help our emotions and feelings about a situation or moment. They are what they are. What we can control is how we act on those feelings. 

Sometimes, we simply need to validate that the cross of infertility is hard and often seems unfair, and through Jesus we can still find joy(s) while carrying this cross. 

I honestly can’t pinpoint the exact moment I realized I was becoming a shell of myself by allowing the cross of infertility to define me so completely. I did, however, eventually note that reality, and I didn’t like who I was becoming or my outlook on life. I had much in my life to be grateful for, and I decided to focus on those things and begin the hard work of truly grieving and coming to terms with our situation. 

It can feel almost trite to begin with gratitude because it is so often thrown around as the remedy for any negative outlook. However, there is truth to beginning with gratitude, because once I opened my eyes to all that was going well in my life, it became much easier to find joy in my daily life. 

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that on the same day I sat down to write this post, my self-imposed, self-guided Bible study with the Gospel of Matthew had me reading Matthew 2:1-12. In verse 10, the wise men have found the place where the Holy Family is staying, and it says, “When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy;” (emphasis mine). 

Here is the crux: we can only find joy in the midst of daily life with Christ. When I try to seek joy outside of Jesus, it is superficial and never lasts, because it is too beholden to my whims and circumstances. However, when my joy is deeply rooted in Jesus, my circumstances don’t matter. It’s as the saints say: I can bear whatever comes with joy because I am with Jesus. (cf. St. Therese)

I find it truly fascinating that it’s only when I confront reality head-on and accept it that I am truly joyful and at peace. In other words, it’s not the change of circumstances that helps me find joy; rather, it’s the embracing of the cross and the present moment for all it is that allows me to be fully alive and at peace. 

Jesus offers me joy in Himself first and foremost. When I walk with Him, I also find joy in a multitude of miracles that He provides throughout each day. I am not denied joy because of my cross; no, I am invited to look at Jesus’ cross and see how abundantly beloved I am. I am invited to unite my suffering to Jesus’ sufferings and find my burden somehow lighter. I am invited to embrace my reality rather than fight it and find peace and joy in the midst of all the good and bad and fair and unfair. 

I am deeply convinced that it is only with Jesus that suffering makes any lick of sense, and in my own experience, I have found it to be true that once I accepted my cross (yes, even kicking-and-screaming acceptance counts), my eyes were once again opened to the many joys Jesus offers to me each and every day, and I have been able, with His grace, to remain at peace despite a permanent infertility diagnosis. 

We serve a good Father. Only once I was fully convinced of this reality did I come to understand what Jesus tells us about peace and joy: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (John 14:27). It can seem strange to be at peace and to find joy while carrying a heavy cross, but that’s only because our world is so confused about what peace and joy really mean. These are not circumstantial emotions; rather, they are tied to faith and trust in who God is.

I do not regret the emotions that color the first five years of my marriage. They were necessary to help me deepen my faith and trust in God. Now, I am grateful to move forward with more peace and joy in my marriage and outlook on life, and I pray that I can apply the important lessons I’ve learned through carrying the cross of infertility to any other crosses that I experience on my journey to heaven, where all will finally make sense and be redeemed.

Merideth Ochs is a Catholic wife and adoptive mother, who thrives on copious amounts of coffee and deeply loves her faith, cultivating holy friendships, and reading books. Merideth writes about infertility, adoption, family life, and faith on her Substack, Manna from the Sky.