“Lord, thank you I don’t have a child,” I silently prayed as the tears rolled down my cheeks. Even as I conveyed those simple words in brief prayer I couldn’t believe I not only said them but that I truly meant it. It was April 2010 and on that particular day and in that exact moment the sharpness of the slightly misguided needle sent searing pain through my right leg. “That’s not supposed to hurt,” the specialist said. But it did. Every muscle and joint in my body hurt. I could barely move. I needed help for normal every day tasks. I wiped the tears from my face and whispered softly, “oh, but it does.” He patted my hand, smiled and told me it was almost over. I had been down this road before. The difference is I knew this time exactly what was wrong and it was just a matter of time before the doctors realized it too. For the second time in my life I found myself undergoing one medical test after another. But the emotion of what was to come was as painful as the physical torment ravaging my body. As I lay on the table for the remainder of the test I contemplated the gratefulness I felt at not having a child. How did I get to that point? For years I had cried until I had no tears left because I desperately wanted a child. I still do. Every time a friend had a baby my heart hurt so badly I couldn’t bear it. At different times throughout the years I couldn’t even bring myself to go to church. Yet here I was thanking God for not fulfilling that desire. What in the world was going on? In that moment I realized how far I had come in this heart wrenching journey.