Infertility's Invisible Ache
As each new JCPenney catalog arrived, I’d flip through the nursery bedding section to dog-ear the pages showing bears and balloons. Those were my favorites. Even though the designs I chose would change occasionally, my physical state didn’t.
Infertility is the failure of a couple to conceive after trying to do so for at least one full year. It’s a heart-wrenching, faith-questioning, relationship-testing, life-altering experience.
One in six couples struggle with infertility. My husband and I were the one out of six.
Look around next time you’re in a group setting. Chances are high that a person or couple you see deals with infertility. Maybe it’s you.
I know I’m in good company since there are several women in the Bible who were called barren: Elizabeth, Hannah, Rachel, Sarah, and others. God heard their prayers. I know He heard mine; yet I didn’t receive the blessing they did.
Growing up, I presumed I’d be a mother even though I never had the strong desire for motherhood as some of my friends. A few years after getting married, my husband and I tried more consciously to have a child. Months passed. Nothing happened. “I guess God has other plans for us right now,” we agreed. After several years, we sought medical advice, knowing that our age was working against us.
I’d dealt with endometriosis since my teenage years, which was likely the primary cause of my infertility. My gynecologist suggested a minor operation. After that procedure, another year passed with no pregnancy. It was time to visit a fertility specialist. He recommended repeating the operation before trying other tests and interventions.
We tried a few cycles of medications and medical procedures, but when those didn’t result in pregnancy, we stopped. Seeking to be good stewards of what we had been blessed with, we didn't want to go into debt to conceive a baby.
As a last-ditch effort, I attended a faith healing service. Even being there in person, I’m still not sure if the miracles displayed were real or not. When I got to speak to the healer at the end of the service, she said a half-hearted prayer, and I left. While I’d felt a glimmer of hope, the experience was another defeat.
We grieved for months. One afternoon, I shut myself in our bedroom and spent hours crying. I thought if I cried until there was nothing left inside, I could start the healing process.
We began attending a church that had an infertility support group called Hannah’s Hope, taken from the title of a book about infertility. I joined, and for about a year, we met together, sharing our individual journeys. Over the course of the next few years, many group members experienced the blessing of a child in various ways. Some achieved success with physical interventions through medical assistance. Others pursued foster adoption or adoption through local or international agencies.
So many prayers answered. But mine wasn’t. Of our group, I was the only one who didn’t add a child to the household, but their support was invaluable.
With increasing pain from endometriosis and a family history of cancer, my gynecologist recommended a hysterectomy, bringing a definite closure to my childbearing years.
A small hollow spot exists inside me; even as I’ve come to a place of trusting God, I still feel a bit defective.
I sometimes ache to hold a baby and watch a child grow up, but God bestows His kindness and protects my heart by reducing the desire for motherhood.
I guess He knew I’d need extra comfort there.
As it’s written in Psalm 34:18 (ESV), The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Not having children gave us more freedom, especially during our two cross-country moves. When Mom needed more care to stay in her home, we were able to do that more easily with a smaller family. There were fewer people’s opinions to consider when choosing a home to live in or a church to attend. Maybe God gave me this path to walk because He knew I’d one day have the skill and courage to share my story with others through writing, showing them they’re not alone.
If you’re in this common struggle of infertility, don’t wait a long time to seek medical guidance. Find (or start) a support group to share ideas with like-minded people. Seek individual counseling when needed. As with those in my group, you can pursue other options to add to your family.
When I hear of a couple desperately but unsuccessfully trying to have a baby, my heart aches for them and a little for us. I say a brief prayer: “Lord, please help them. Bless them with the child they so desire. But if it’s not Your will for them, give them peace and strength.”
I know the long, lonely journey all too well.
