How to Care for the Barren

The Cross of Barrenness

What is the cross of barrenness? Surely it is one of loss and death and grief, but many in the church don’t realize that the cross of barrenness is also one of warring against the world’s religion of control. The world expects us to manage and control our fertility, so, naturally, that same world also expects us to manage and control our infertility – never mind whether or not we really can.

It is not uncommon for friends, even strangers, to school me in this art of control, this “sure science” of making a baby. A woman standing behind a school lunch counter once told me, “Be sure to keep your cervix lifted for at least thirty minutes after intercourse.” A lady at a party said to me in front of a circle of friends, “Your husband could be shooting blanks. Get his sperm’s motility checked out.” A stranger sitting to my left at a women’s luncheon leaned over and announced during the main course, “My daughter was infertile, but she finally had a baby last spring through In Vitro Fertilization. You should go to her doctor.” A woman at a local farmer’s market stopped me to tell me that taking her suggested brand of vitamin supplements would even out my hormone levels and result in a pregnancy.

I don’t know what to say in return to those who publicly offer advice on sexual techniques or medically misdiagnose my husband’s fertility or tell me to engage in medical procedures that break the First and Fifth Commandments of my Lord. Giving a verbal response to those comments feels like I am somehow validating the very existence of them. If I share with the woman at the market that my hormone levels are already stable, then I am engaging her in conversation about something that is so personal and painful. I am inviting her to continue making suggestions and diagnoses and comments about my barrenness. I am giving her permission to continue trying to find a fix for my problem. I am handing her the salt well and telling her to rub it in my open wound. So, instead of telling her the truth, I simply thank her for her advice, and I keep walking. Then, I go home, and I cry.

I cry, because every time a well-meaning person tells me how to make a baby, I am tempted to believe that I can control my barrenness, that my present childlessness is my own doing, my own fault. I must be doing something wrong. I must be missing a key nutrient in my diet; I must be exercising too much or too little; I must have high levels of prolactin or low levels of progesterone; I must not be producing enough Type E mucus to sustain the lives of the sperm in my uterus; I must not be going to the right doctor. I must, I must, I must. When a well-meaning person makes suggestions to me in my pain and grief, I feel the weight, the burden, the law of my barrenness fully on my own shoulders.

Yet, I cannot control my barrenness. I know this, because God tells me in His Word that children are a heritage from Him – a gift – and that good gift is received, not manufactured or made. God is the Giver, and I am the receiver. And, at the end of the day, my faith must believe what God tells me in His Word, not what the woman tells me at the market.

Baby Blankets

One of the things I look forward to most at baby showers is the unveiling of a homemade, quilted baby blanket that was lovingly made by a devoted friend or family member. I like to finger the soft material and admire the creative patterns and tiny stitches. In that awe-filled moment, I honestly feel more jealous of the quilter’s talent than the expectant mother’s blanket. Maybe that is because I never expect to be on the receiving end of a baby quilt of my own.

I think that is why I was so undone last week when I opened a package that came in the mail. My hand reached in and pulled out a quilted, green-and-pink (Two of my favorite colors!) table runner. It could have been a baby blanket for all of the excitement I felt.

A corresponding note read, “This runner reminds me of spring and the joy of Easter. I hope it will brighten a corner of your home.”

Do you know of what else it reminds me? It reminds me that I am remembered and “showered” with love by my friends, even without a baby. Thank you!

Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is almost here.

I have such mixed feelings every second Sunday in May. I enjoy celebrating my mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, godmother, sisters, friends, and all of the other women in my life who make sacrifices to care for me, yet…you know.

There’s that whole I’m-not-a-mother thing.

The awkwardness is unavoidable. I am now too old to remain an inconspicuous, innocent daughter of the church who simply joins in on the celebration of the matriarchs around me. I am a childless, married woman – one of those alien non-mothers – and everyone has to suffer through the uneasy, painful, blushing, frozen, horrible moments of trying to figure out what to say to me on Mother’s Day.

I feel it most for the poor ushers delegated to hand out carnations. I know they want to give me a flower – I can see the chivalrous struggle in their eyes! – but I have “childless” stamped across my forehead. So, they hand me a service bulletin, instead. “I’m sorry,” one of them inevitably whispers during the exchange, and I am left in the inelegant position of comforting others for my own childlessness.

How did things get to be this way? When did we decide that it was good, right, and salutary in church to give out discriminatory gifts as a coda to Christ’s gifts of Word and Sacrament?

I am going to be blunt. Mother’s Day is a secular holiday that has worked its way into our Sunday services. I am not of the opinion that we should stop celebrating mothers. Quite the opposite, I think we should celebrate mothers every day of the week and with more than just flowers and praise. We should be offering them our time and talents to help them in their God-given vocation of caring for others as well as praying that God would sustain them as they daily die to self in order to serve our youngest church members.

I don’t even think we should stop commemorating Mother’s Day in church. At this point, it would be culturally rude to withdraw from the church the tradition of honoring women whom God has gifted with children, but we need to be mindful of the pain this secular, gift-card-selling holiday inflicts on those from whom God has withheld the gift of children. Sometimes, pastors (often unknowingly) drag this secular holiday’s pain into their sermons, their children’s sermons, their preservice announcement anecdotes, and their prayers. In an effort to be culturally relevant, they slay the barren in the pews and grieve the hearts of mothers who have lost or are estranged from their children.

Perhaps, instead, pastors could use Mother’s Day as an opportunity to use gift language and remind their congregations to celebrate all of the women who serve as mothers in the church: godmothers, aunts, school teachers, deaconesses, babysitters, sewing circles, LWML, secretaries, altar guild, VBS bakers, and every woman who faithfully lives out her vocation in service to others. Perhaps, we could give these women carnations, too – not to dismiss the love we have for the mothers who bore and raised us, but to properly recognize that motherhood is a vocation given by God, not an achievement rewarded by men.

True Comfort

I recently sat with my mother at a kitchen table on vacation, weeping in my grief at having no children. “I may never be a mother,” I confessed.

All my mother said was, “I know.” And I was comforted.

I was comforted, because my mother did not try to change me or my situation; she did not try to minimize my suffering by labeling it or explaining it away; she did not offer empty suggestions for how to fix my barrenness; she made no false promises that God would someday give me a child, for, outside of giving me the Child Jesus to save me from my Sin, God has made no such promise to me in His Word. My mother simply acknowledged my burden and then sat with me to share the weight of it.

This is when a barren woman will be comforted: in the safety of someone’s watch who believes and confesses that we are okay in Jesus, even when we suffer. A barren woman finds comfort in being reminded that there is no need to fix that which Christ has already made whole. I feel most loved when my friends and family let me be barren and remind me that the death in my womb cannot snuff out the true Life given to me at the font.

Keeping Watch

I had let my guard down too soon. I cried. I grieved for that which was not given to me.

Thanks be to God for you, my dear sisters, who kept watch with me. You listened and didn’t try to offer a rosy outcome. You hugged me and cried with me. You gave me space to let it all out. You reminded me that I am God’s child, and you prayed for me. You sent me a baby elephant. Thank you.

Curiosity or Caring?

I saw them again recently and wondered what their story was. I’m curious. They’ve been married for awhile and I’m assuming they would like a family. I’ve talked to them briefly about our own adoption plans and hoped they might take that opportunity to share with me their desires for children and any struggles they are having. But no luck. They didn’t take the bait.

I was about to approach the topic head-on with the wife when we had a few moments alone, but now I’m glad I didn’t. I realized just before I opened my mouth that I don’t know them well enough yet. I wanted them to invite me into a very private part of their life together (their bedroom, to be exact) and I’ve never even invited them into our dining room for dinner. Yes, I’m concerned about their emotional state. I want to help if they’re hurting. Hey, I’ve been there. I’m still there. But that doesn’t make me an expert who needs to seek out patients to “treat.” While it sounds like I’m just trying to help, I think the real motivation is more curiosity than caring.

If I care about their fertility then I need to care about the rest of their beings as well. Are they enjoying their jobs? What do they do for fun? Where do they see themselves in five years? What has life taught them thus far? Have things turned out differently from what they expected? What part of their lives bring them the most joy? What was their childhood like? I have a lot to find out. And maybe the subject will come up in the process. Maybe it won’t. But regardless, we’ll be blessed by more friends in our circle. Perhaps my current state in life is making me more aware of people who don’t have children, not so that I can somehow help them, but so that I will remember to make an effort to get to know them and just let the Lord bless our relationship in whatever way He chooses.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

My soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is;
so I say, “My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the LORD.”
Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall!
My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.

For the Lord will not cast off forever,
but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
for he does not willingly afflict or grieve the children of men.

Who has spoken and it came to pass, unless the Lord has commanded it?
Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?

I called on your name, O LORD, from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, “Do not close your ear to my cry for help!”
You came near when I called on you; you said, “Do not fear!”

You have taken up my cause, O Lord; you have redeemed my life.

Lamentations 3:17-26, 31-33, 37-38, 55-58 (ESV)

Let us pray…

Most High, You bid us in Your Word to wait on You. As the days turn into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, remind us that Your mercies are new every morning. Assure us of your abundant, steadfast love to us in Jesus, that we might rejoice in the waiting, knowing You to be our Portion, our Hope, and our Redeemer forever, no matter what it is You may speak to come to pass. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

(It is our privilege to pray with and for you. If you would like to submit a personal petition to be included in our prayers, please send your request via the “Submit a Question” page on this site.)

Christian Man-to-Man Advice about Dealing with Barrenness

Thank you, Rev. Dr. Benjamin T. G. Mayes (husband of Rebecca), for generously responding to the following question recently submitted.

Question Submitted: Any ideas for barren husbands? This may be harder on me than on my wife. We’re a happy family of 2, but I have rough days missing children we won’t have.

Brother, here are some random thoughts to give an answer to your question. My sense is that men have totally different feelings about barrenness and lack of children. Most men are probably able to compartmentalize the disappointment that they feel when they realize that their family might not include any little ones. We probably are not all the same. As for me, there were times when I did not feel the desire for children. Of course, that’s when I thought it would be easy to have them! We always seem to want what we don’t have, isn’t that true?

I have one son, who is definitely not a baby any more. He has been a major blessing to me and Rebecca, so I’m afraid I’m not in your exact situation. But now, I, too, wish to have another child of my own, and who knows if and when that will happen?

I don’t think anything can take the place of having your own child, just like nothing can take the place of having your own wife. God gives different gifts to different people, but those gifts are unique and not interchangeable. The woman with five kids might be tempted to see those kids as a burden. For us, we feel the lack of children as a burden. We feel that we lack little ones on which to shower our love. I don’t think anything can take the place of those kids. So that is the one major caveat I have to give here. The following tips may not fill the hole in your life and family that you are feeling. But they might help, and they will certainly be good reminders of the truths you probably already know.

1. Katie and her team here have amassed a treasure trove of Gospel comfort for barren families, including you.

2. As I’m sure you know, our primary identity and joy (we must remind ourselves!) should come from belonging to God’s family, having God as our true Father, the church as our true mother (cf. Matt. 12:50; Gal. 4:26), and other Christians as our brothers and sisters. If you are a pastor, you also have children in the faith through your preaching, teaching, and baptizing (1 Cor. 4:15).

3. On a practical level, obviously pursue adoption if you’re able.

4. Since you don’t have kids, you may as well save up some money and splurge on doing some special things with your wife, like traveling or investing in some of the hobbies you both enjoy. I would personally suggest checking out beautiful art and architecture in Germany and Italy! Then, of course, you might also be able to afford being generous to others.

5. I’d recommend becoming a mentor for boys or young men in your area. Many boys have no father figures and really need one. I’ve had the opportunity to become involved in the life of a young man, my godson, who was baptized at our church when he was 8 (now he’s a teenager). He was adopted by his great-grandmother and had no father figure to look up to. So he comes to our house every Saturday night, and we have what you might call a family night, so that he can see how a man should treat his wife, so that we can play games together, and also have time to talk about questions that he wouldn’t feel comfortable asking grandma. It’s been a great experience for me, and for him, too. Maybe for you, spending time with the church’s youth group would allow you to show the love of Christ to young people. It doesn’t take the place of having your own son, but it is a way that someone in your position can truly help a young man and show him the love of Christ. And truly, if the Lord has not blessed you with physical children, showing the love of Christ is more important than having a child of your own.

In summary, I think men probably approach the issue of barrenness with more detachment than our sisters in Christ, but what does detachment really mean? It means that we can compartmentalize our sorrow and put it in a box so that it doesn’t bother us all the time. But it is still there. We pray to God for solace, and He gives solace when and where it pleases Him, not when and where it pleases us. In the meantime, He has given you the best solace in His Son and Holy Spirit (the Comforter!), and at the same time, I think He gives you other blessings and avenues of service that might just be unique to people in your situation.

—Rev. Dr. Benjamin T. G. Mayes

What Is There for the Barren Husband?

Question Submitted: Could you recommend a book that would be helpful for my husband? He feels immense guilt and sadness about our inability to have children. I know there are books geared towards women, but I don’t know of any that are geared towards men.

As a barren husband myself, I wish that I knew of a book or article out there that addressed this topic for men. From what I’ve been able to discover, though, there is little if anything out there that seeks to provide comfort to barren men. That being said, I do think that many men would benefit from reading Katie’s book. Yes, there are sections of it that speak much more to the specific grief and pain that the barren woman feels, yet many of the feelings of loss, abandonment, and loneliness are shared by both husband and wife. He Remembers the Barren helps to point each of us back to our abundant worth as children of God.

I’ve also found that studying the Lutheran (Scriptural, really) doctrine of vocation has been beneficial in my personal struggles with feelings of helplessness and of having let my wife down. For the general reader, Gene Veith’s God at Work is the go-to text for learning about this doctrine of vocation. Through vocation, we Christians gain a tremendous comfort in knowing that the things we’re doing in our lives, as well as being able to identify who our neighbors are in life, are all providential gifts of God. He intends for us to serve our neighbor in many and various ways, and He uses us as his “masks” in order to serve them. We find comfort in seeing God’s will concretely revealed for us in the exact circumstances in which we find ourselves.

In fact, using the general doctrine of vocation as a guide, I’d encourage all men who are suffering from barrenness to listen to God’s Word for them in Ephesians 5:25: “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.” (ESV)

Here is God’s general desire for husbands: love your wives. Christ came not to be served but to serve. Hearing that we husbands are “Christs” to our wives in marriage (Paul tells us that marriage is a mysterious picture of Christ and the Church), our vocation then is understood as one of serving them. In other words, we should look first to their needs. Our needs are taken care of in Christ’s gift of our wives. Marriage is so beautiful, because, as we serve our wives and give ourselves for them, they likewise will serve us, too.

So, practically speaking, lead your wife in life and especially in the faith. Find a good devotional resource that you can use on a daily basis. A couple excellent ones are the Treasury of Daily Prayer and Bo Giertz’s To Live with Christ. Pray with and for your wife. Set aside a time each week where the two of you will go and do something which you both enjoy together. Once a week, get out the grill and make lunch or dinner. When something breaks in the house, don’t call the repair man, but instead see if you can learn how to fix it yourself (but, please, don’t kill yourself!). These are all excellent vocational ways to actively love and lead your wife.

Finally, men, don’t be afraid to go and talk to your pastor. I know it’s true that we want to appear strong and might feel that talking with your pastor would be a sign of weakness. Please don’t feel this way. Your pastor is there for you, to listen to you and speak Christ’s words to you, in your need. Every single one of us needs this. Hear what the writer to the Hebrews says about Jesus: “Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” (ESV) See what care God has for you? Jesus is there to speak comfort to you, because He completely understands you. Don’t be afraid to come to Him and His pastors, so that your ears can hear his words of mercy for you.

Rev. Michael P. Schuermann

Being Infertile

I get frustrated with the word infertile.

What do you think of when you hear that word? I think of faulty reproductive organs, doctors, syringes, ovulation, hospital gowns, sperm counts, hormones, petri dishes, and all kinds of medicine. Do you know what I rarely think of when I hear the word infertile? I rarely think of God.

That is why I prefer to call myself barren. I know that it sounds harsh, maybe even old to our twenty-first century ears, but barren conjures up Biblical images in my mind. It acknowledges that I have a Creator who opens and closes wombs. It affirms that my childlessness is a divinely-allowed state of being rather than a man-made diagnosis of a medical mystery.

I also think the word barren better represents the medical reality of childlessness. Not every woman who is without child is necessarily infertile. Barren means “not productive; desolate; fruitless; lacking.” There are many women in the body of Christ who are barren simply because they have not been given the gift of a husband – the unmarried and the widowed – and their childlessness has nothing to do with infertility. There are also married women who, much to the bewilderment of their doctors, simply never conceive.

If someone calls me infertile, I remember that I am the patient of a limited, human doctor who can only give me a child 33% of the time. If someone calls me barren, however, I remember that I am the child of a merciful, loving God who gives many good gifts, not just the gift of children.

Language is important, don’t you think?