Infertility

The Enlightenment

In Dr. Martin Luther’s Small Catechism he reminds the Christian that one of the jobs of the Holy Spirit is to “enlighten me with His gifts,” and this enlightenment so often occurs when we are hearing the Spirit-filled words of Holy Scripture. Have you ever had that experience? Perhaps you’ve read the passage a hundred times before but suddenly you get it.  It happened to me in church this week. The words hit my ears and penetrated my soul. The sanctuary filled with a bright light while angels sang and harps strummed to a great crescendo. Well, ok, maybe that part was just going on in my head. But the “aha!” moment was so profound that I almost felt like interrupting the service just to ask everyone if they had truly grasped the magnitude of the holy words we had just sung.

“For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.” Psalm 84:11

For a few seconds I wrestled with the “from those who walk uprightly” part. Does this passage really apply to me? I know how deep sin dwells within me. I cannot stand uprightly before God and face Him like I am. But wait–because I have put on Christ in my baptism, doesn’t our Heavenly Father see Christ when He looks at me? Do not the words of absolution I just received remind me that I am forgiven and righteous before God? And do not the righteous walk “uprightly”? YES! This is meant for me!

And then the key words of the passage were finally able to seep into the still empty crevices of my heart, like a soothing ointment that provides instant relief from pain. No good thing does He withhold. It finally occurred to me: God’s not holding out on me.

I hear the cry of a newborn infant in a store and I think, “Oh, what a blessed sound! How good it would be to hear that sound in my own home.” But it wouldn’t be good. Not now. Because if it would be truly good for me then I would already have it.

I hear of young single women who have just discovered that they are pregnant and I think, “Wouldn’t our family be best for this child? Doesn’t the girl realize how much better of a life this baby would have with two parents instead of one?” But over and over God has clearly indicated that it would not be good for those children to be ours. And God wants the highest good for us and for these children.

No good thing does He withhold. This means that right now, in this time and this place, I have all good things from my Lord and Savior. Whatever I feel that I lack is, according to Him, not a good thing for me. He is withholding only those things that are harmful to my body or my soul . He is, as the Psalm also says, my sun, lighting my path to my heavenly home through the promises of His Holy Word so that I do not stumble along the way. He is my shield, protecting me from all things which might lead me to trust in something other than His grace and mercy alone. He is also protecting me from myself and the ramifications of my sinful and selfish desires by covering me with His blood.

He’s not holding out on me. This realization is so freeing, so comforting. Even though we know better we can sometimes still be caught pondering whether our past sins have caused our current heartache. We feel like we’re being punished in some way, like a child whose parent has put his favorite toy up on the shelf because he did not pick up his room when told to do so. But God is not holding out on us. The baby we so desire is not waiting out there somewhere until we can get our acts together, figure out what sin we haven’t confessed, or guess at what God wants us to do next. He is giving all good things to us now–this moment, this day, this week. Alleluia! Let those angels keep on singing! I wish you could hear them, too.

Poked and Pampered

There is a certain amount of vulnerability a girl feels as she lies on a hospital bed under the fluorescent lights, her thin, cotton gown a little more breezy than she would prefer. Adrenaline surges through her veins every few minutes as pre-op nurses poke and prod and swipe and press and wrap and prepare and pamper. Each touch is gentle and every smile is sincere, but the nurses’ attempts to make a girl feel comfortable only serve to remind her of just how uncomfortable she is about to be.

And what they are going to do to her body.

And how long it is going to take for her flesh to heal.

And what the doctor is going to tell her afterwards.

The thought of it all steals the strength from her bones, the very breath from her lungs. But, then, the voice of her pastor, her faithful shepherd sitting bedside, cuts through the beeps and swishes of machines, through the white noise of her fear:

“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us. Selah

Those of low estate are but a breath;
those of high estate are a delusion;
in the balances they go up;
they are together lighter than a breath.
Put no trust in extortion;
set no vain hopes on robbery;
if riches increase, set not your heart on them.

Once God has spoken;
twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God…”*

And the girl is reminded that she does not have to be strong. She only needs to be His.

(*Psalm 62:5-11, ESV)

Thank You, M

Today is Life Sunday. Today, we remember the estimated 54 million Americans who have died from legalized abortion. Today, we also remember and thank God for the brave, selfless M’s out there.

Thank you, Sandra, for sharing your M’s story with us:

M is probably the bravest woman I know. She has done something I know, without a doubt, I could not do. She gave me her child.

She was twenty-two and already a single mother of an 18-month-old daughter. The result of poor judgment, she readily admitted. And then she did it again. She wasn’t even dating the guy, just a hook-up.

He wasn’t going to be any help, he barely knew her. She knew what this was going to be like, she’d already been there, done that, and had the spat-up-on, peed-and-pooed-on T-shirt that goes along with it. An abortion was the simplest solution. Lots of women get them, multiple times. Just get it over with and move on with your life.

At the clinic, they did an ultrasound to see how far along she was. I guess it was to figure out which type of procedure to do. I don’t know if she watched. But after that first part was over, she realized she just couldn’t do it.

She got up off the table and walked out of the clinic. She had NO IDEA what she was going to do now, but she knew one thing she wasn’t going to do. On the way back home, she saw a billboard placed by a pro-life organization. On it was a firefighter who rescued dozens of people from the Twin Towers on 9/11 – thanking her birthmother for choosing life and placing her for adoption. Because of that decision decades earlier, many other lives were saved.

That was it. Adoption. But how? That’s just not what you DO as a young, pregnant, black woman. You take care of your own. You don’t give them away. Or you just don’t have them.

Knowing her family and friends would try to talk her out of the decision, she told them she had taken a job in a far-away city. She made excuses why she couldn’t come home for holidays. In reality, she moved 15 minutes across town with her young daughter to a pregnant women’s home run by an adoption agency. She essentially went into hiding for the better part of nine months. She was sticking to this decision and no one was going to change her mind.

She got to pick the people who would raise her baby. The family she picked was great – so loving and happy. Everything was going as planned. Right up until month 8, when the wonderful adoptive mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Surgery and chemo would have to begin as soon as possible. There was no way she could take care of a newborn and go through treatment and recovery. They had to back out.

Just a few weeks to go and everything had just fallen apart. But no. M was presented with a few other potential adoptive families. After meeting us in person, she made her decision. She chose us. She chose me to replace herself in her baby’s life.

It was easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of baby preparations, giving notice at work, etc. We had just finished our homestudy a couple of weeks earlier. To be placed so quickly was just unheard-of. People asked me if I was worried she’d change her mind. No. That was something I have never worried about. Not once. Not for even a moment.

She called a week after we had gotten home from meeting her, 6 days actually. She was in labor and on her way to the hospital. We quickly packed and hopped in the car and hadn’t even made it from Minneapolis to the Iowa border when she called to say that she had given birth to a healthy baby boy.

The hospital, very thoughtfully, had moved her to a general surgery floor rather than the maternity one, and had even given her a private room. She walked us down to the nursery, and the nurses brought the three of us to a family waiting room. Another nurse wheeled in the bassinet holding the tiny boy. M walked over and picked him up.

And then she handed him to me.

M had gotten pregnant so easily. Twice! I had been through every humiliating test and procedure, being poked and prodded six ways to Sunday. Repeatedly. I took pills, gave myself shots, barely knowing from day to day which way was up from all the hormones coursing through my system. All in the futile attempt to accomplish what she did without even trying, even while trying NOT to.

It’s easy to say, “I’d never have an abortion,” when you’ve never faced an unplanned, unprepared-for, unwed, unsupported pregnancy. And maybe the decision to at least not have an abortion would be an easy one to make. I wouldn’t know.

I do know, that even now, if I should happen to suffer from a serious lapse in judgment and miraculously become pregnant as a result, I would not be able to give that baby to another family to raise. I would not be able to do what M has done.

She not only chose life for her baby, but she chose what she hoped would be a better life for him than one she could provide. She gave him life, knowing she wouldn’t be the one he spent that life with. And that makes her the bravest, most admirable woman I know.

Sandra Ostapowich

Auntology

auntology [an-tol–uh-jee] noun. 1. The science of being the sister of one’s father or mother, the wife of one’s uncle, or an older woman who is respected by but not necessarily related to the speaker. 2. The sum or characteristics of the mental states and processes of an aunt.

The system of auntology is difficult to explain, but aunts around the world clearly understand and universally practice this science upon the arrival of nieces, nephews, godchildren, and children of dear friends. Perhaps auntology can best be defined by listing a few of the classic tenets and principles that are upheld by its most devoted students:

1. Arms were made for snuggles and hugs.

2. Always wear clothing suitable for bending, jumping, running, climbing, spinning, sword fighting, skipping, shooting, and wrestling.

3. Quarters and candy are the best bribes for catechismal memory work. Have plenty on hand at all times.

4. Secrets whispered by nieces and nephews must be taken to the grave.

5. “I wish you were my mommy” really means “Aunts are rockstars!”

6. “Amen” is your special word at every baptism. Say it loudly.

7. No song or dance is too silly for the moment.

8. Narnia books always sound better if read aloud with a British accent.

9. Prayer lists only get bigger, not smaller.

10. Ice cream really does make it better.

11. Silly face pictures. Every. Time.

12. You will climb the tree when no other adult will.

13. Never get out of bed before your nieces and nephews have a chance to wake you.

14. You don’t smell like milk, so help a mother out and take the crying baby.

15. Fight for the right to be Yoda instead of Vader. Being the oldest in the room has to count for something.

16. Your lap will never be big enough.

17. Pretend play is always more fun if you use medical terms.

18. You can do no wrong in the eyes of the child you love, so make sure you do only right.

19. In the inevitable moment that you break #18, be sure to admit you are wrong and apologize.

20. Your nieces and nephews are never too old to hear you say, “I love you.”

And that is auntology. Further questions may be directed to an aunt near you.

Baby Showers and Baptisms

Question submitted: How have you made it through going to baby showers? It’s difficult for me.  My younger sister’s baby shower is coming up, and I am nervous about going because I don’t want to start crying in front of everyone.

A baby shower.  A baby’s baptism.  Meeting a new niece or nephew at the hospital for the first time.  My participation in each of these events is a painful reminder to me of what I lack.  I’m not the guest of honor at a baby shower.  I don’t get to dress my baby in a family heirloom baptismal gown on her special day.  I’m not the one who has recently birthed a child at the hospital.

I never realized how emotional these events were until the baptism of my brother’s first child.  There was no way I was going to shed any tears on that special day.  I thought I could be strong enough to mask my own disappointment.  I wanted to be the parent who was bringing my child to the baptismal font, but I wasn’t going to let anybody see the pain on my face.  I had told myself that this day was about my niece and the special gifts she was being given.  What I didn’t tell myself was that it was okay to grieve as well.

Meeting my niece was precious.  Holding her made me feel special.  The hardest part, though, was when my daughter Joanna got to hold her new cousin.  She swelled with pride and beamed from cheek to cheek.  That’s when I had to fight back the tears.  This picturesque moment should have been for my baby.

I had squelched the urge to cry; I decided that would be the only time I’d weep over the weekend.  I didn’t think the Sunday morning baptism would affect me.  What a lie I’d told myself.  When the congregation began singing the baptismal hymn, the flood gates opened.  I was crying because I hadn’t been gifted a child.  I listened to the hymn and begged God to forgive my selfishness.  As my niece was baptized, I heard the sweet gospel news that she was a forgiven member of the family of Christ.  I was forgiven, too.

The focus of this day was not about my personal desire for a large family, nor about my barren womb.  It was about God’s gift of a child.  In my sinful pride, I had looked at the birth of my niece as a punishing reminder of what I didn’t have.  Once I recalled God’s blessings of a child to my brother and his wife, then I could share in their excitement.  All children are gifts from the Lord, and they should be celebrated.  My niece had become my sister in Christ; that was reason for rejoicing.

Before my niece’s baptism, I told my brother that I might not always appear joyful.  It was not meant to anger or remove myself from the family.  Rather, it was going to be hard because I was mourning my own loss.  He understood and was thankful that I could articulate my feelings to him.  Share your feelings with your sister.  Let her know that you’re nervous about the shower.  You love your sister and want to be part of her special day; tell her that you do rejoice with her.  And if you cry that day, it’s okay.  Your sister will know that it’s hard for you, but she’ll appreciate even more your honesty.

During the shower, you will find yourself comparing your situation to your sister’s; this is normal.  Remind yourself that this is a time of God’s blessing.  Find ways to occupy your mind.  Help write down the gifts; offer to help with refreshments.  These activities will help keep you focused on the blessings God is giving.

Yes, baby showers and baptisms are difficult times.  However, they are also reasons to give thanks to the Lord for His generous love.  Children should be celebrated for what they are – gifts.  While you may not have children of your own, you are God’s child.  You are a gift to your parents and to those who love you.  That’s something to celebrate.

Hawaii

I’ve had many expectant mothers talk to me about the special kinship they feel with the mother of our Lord, especially during the Advent and Christmas seasons: the shared Magnificat upon learning of their pregnancies; the similar joy of telling the good news to their relatives; the pondering of the miraculous in their hearts; the reality of having to labor and birth in unsavory conditions (or opposite to original birth plans); and the joy of holding and naming their children.

I have to admit, I tend to listen to such musings as one might a recounting of a recent vacation to Hawaii. I’ve never been there, but it sounds wonderful. I even hope to go there someday.

But, as much as I admire Mary and want to be like her, it is the shepherds with whom I can most relate, for I am just like them. I am poor and rough around the edges, not expecting much of anything. Yet, God in His mercy reveals His Good News to me – lowly, unworthy me:

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Oh, the joy! The blessed, holy noise of that multitude of heavenly hosts singing! My heart almost faints within me.

And, so I run. I run with the shepherds to the manger to see this thing which God has done, and I marvel that it was done for me. Glory to God in the highest, indeed!

I may never get to Hawaii, and that’s okay.

New in Christ

A new year.  A new beginning.  A fresh start.  All sorts of thoughts, dreams, and adventures await.  Is this the year we get pregnant?  Is this the year we adopt?  All sorts of things lie ahead for each one of us.  Would we want to know what we each day holds?  Would we rather be surprised?

One thing that should not surprise the believer in Christ is the fact that she is the Lord’s child.  In Holy Baptism, she has been given a fresh start to each and every day.  Water was poured over her in baptism, and all her sins of thought, word, and deed were drowned.  She is given a clean slate.  She is forgiven of all sins.

I take great comfort in knowing that I am forgiven.  You see, I already have lots of hopes and desires for the year.  I know what should happen.  I’ve got it all mapped out.  I have plans to grow my family through adoption.  I know that my dear friend would love to get pregnant and have a baby.  I think I have all the answers.  My thoughts are sinful because I’ve dictated to the Lord what He should do.  I’m wrapped up in myself.  For those thoughts, I confess my sins and ask for forgiveness.  Then I pray that my life would always reflect the life of a baptized Christian.  Will my thoughts edify the body of Christ?  Will my words benefit my neighbor?  Will my actions demonstrate my love for self or others?

Each day is a gift from the Lord.  When I am given the gift of a new day, I pray that it might be a blessing to my husband, my daughter, and my neighbor.

This is a new year.  Dear sister, begin each day in the name of the Triune God – the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  You, who are baptized into Christ, are given a new beginning.  Let us rejoice in the gift of new life in Christ.

The Gift of Forgiveness

Jennifer Larson reminds us in her reflection on “Advent and Barrenness” that the most important gift we receive from God is not children but the forgiveness of our sins:

Today, I underwent a diagnostic laparoscopy procedure in hopes of discovering the reason for my excruciating pelvic and back pain during my menstrual cycle, which is now occurring every other week. I recently met with my primary care physician and then an obgyn who both felt the pain may be caused by endometriosis.  The good news is that [the procedure] may answer why we have yet to conceive.

At this point, we are not certain if we can conceive or not. We know my husband has a low sperm count, I have innumerable fibroids, and we’ve been trying for two years.  However, we are hopeful.

The timing of this experience got me thinking…Not only does this surround Advent and ultimately Christmas, but it also follows the blessing of the birth of my niece, Clara, on December 7th. Sometimes, it helps to have these reminders to focus me on what I am so very grateful for.

Another recent blessing for us was our engagement this spring, the counseling we received from our pastor, the opportunity to live apart again prior to marriage, the gift of being forgiven, and the final culmination – our marriage.  We repented and have been forgiven for living together prior to marriage.  We are now able to focus on our marriage and our continued hope for a family with this peace.  However, none of this would have been possible if Jesus had not been born.  This is a time for preparation and celebration. I will take comfort in focusing on this and rejoicing in Christ’s birth.

The doctor met with me after the procedure to reveal that the cause of my pain was not endometriosis. Instead, I have a large fibroid that is fighting to win a size contest in comparison to my uterus.  I have an appointment for December 29th to have it removed by a fertility specialist.  Until then, I plan to pray for the courage to stay emotionally strong and to thank and praise God for one of the most important gifts one can receive – forgiveness through Jesus Christ.

Jennifer Larson

(Let us pray…Heavenly Father, in this hour of anxiety we pray for Your divine presence and aid. As the time of Jennifer’s operation draws near, she needs a staff on which to lean. To whom shall she turn but to You, gracious Lord? You have created, redeemed, and sanctified her. She is Your baptized and beloved child in Christ. You will not forsake her as she cries to You for strength in her trouble and pain. We confess to You our unworthiness, our many weaknesses, and our transgressions. You mercifully forgive us for the sake of the sacrifice of Your dear Son, our precious Savior. Give wisdom and skill to the doctors and nurses, that all they do will bring about a speedy recovery for Jennifer in keeping with Your good, fatherly will. We commend her into Your hands. While she slumbers and sleeps, watch over her. Take every fear out of her heart. Comfort her with the assurance of her salvation through the blood of Your Son, Jesus Christ, and grant her a faith that clings only to Him, who is the great and eternal cure for all sin, sickness, and death. Your name we praise, O Lord of life and death. Hear our prayer for the sake of Your dear Son. Amen.*)

* The Lutheran Book of Prayer, 232-3.

A Child For You

Christmas is going to bring me to tears this year.  It has happened for the past several years, and I’m ready for it.  Any time a baby is born, that is a time to rejoice.  God has brought forth into the world a tiny baby, one who has been formed and knit in a mother’s womb.  That’s a miracle.  Grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and more gather around to welcome this child into their family.  A baptism brings even more joy as the child becomes part of the family of believers.

At those times, my arms ache for a child I also wish to hold.  I ache to nestle a child close to me and ponder her future.  I wonder when it will be my turn to parent a baby.  Will there ever be a child for me?

On Christmas, we celebrate the birth of another child.  However, it’s not just any child; it’s the birth of Jesus, the Christ-child.  This is the child who would endure the most difficult life ever.  This child would be spit upon, scorned, bruised, beaten, rejected, and nailed upon a cross to die.  This child would be mentally tested time and time by the devil, who would seek to ruin Him.  This child would defeat sin, death, and the devil for you.  This child is preparing a place for you in heaven.  This child stands in your place before the Father and covers your iniquities.  There is nothing within us that deserves any of these gifts.

But Jesus, the Christ-child did it anyway because He loves us.  And that’s what brings me to tears.  Christ became a baby for me.  He lived a perfect life for me.  He died for me.  He rose for me.  Now He lives for me.  My tears at Christmas are tears of repentance and tears of joy.

So rejoice, dear sister, there is a child for you.  The words of the Christmas angel are meant for you, “You will find Him wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:12)  Christ the Savior is born FOR YOU.

Let It Be To Me

I continue to marvel at Mary’s response to Gabriel’s unbelievable message: “…let it be to me according to your word,” (Luke 1:38). She didn’t know what those words really meant, did she? She couldn’t have known.  She couldn’t have foreseen the heartache she would have to go through as the mother of the Messiah, who was destined to suffer and die. Yet the Holy Spirit moved her to speak with great confidence in her calling as the Lord’s servant, chosen for an honor unlike any that had ever been given before. A great honor, to be sure, but one that was accompanied by great suffering.

Can you speak these words from Mary as you experience the unexpected, the disappointments, the losses? Throughout our lives we all experience those proverbial “closed doors” where it seems pretty clear that going in the direction we had planned is not according to God’s plan. This news does not come from a heavenly being, reminding us first to “Fear not,” but rather from physicians or social workers who are simply stating the facts.

“The cancer had spread more than we thought,” says the surgeon.“We had to do a hysterectomy.” But I’m so young! It doesn’t seem possible that I’ll never be able to give birth. I never dreamed this would happen.

“It doesn’t appear that any growth has taken place in the last month,” says the OB. “I’m so sorry.” No! This was the answer to our prayers. Why would God give us this miracle and then take it away? It’s not fair.                                                           

“We have just received word that all referrals are on hold indefinitely,” states the email from the agency. “We will notify you when we have more details.” Not another hold up! We’ve been through this before. This could add even more years to our wait.

The shock. The denial. The anger. The fight. The exhaustion. The surrender. Then, finally, the prayer: “Let it be to me according to Your word.”

Using Mary’s statement as a prayer can be both a spiritual and physical struggle for some. At times we may even feel the need to physically grasp hold of something as we speak it so as to brace ourselves for the realization of all our fears. Our sinful nature attaches such hesitancy to this concept of full submission. Why is that? After all these years of the Lord’s providence, generosity, faithfulness, and care, why have we still not learned our lesson?

For me it’s getting a little better. You know why? I’ve been practicing. Every week on Sunday morning I hear the true, inspired, life-giving words that speak of the Lord’s promises to me and I practice this prayer—this time with all boldness and confidence.

“In the stead and by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, I forgive you all your sins.…” Let it be to me according to Your word!

“I believe in the…resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” Let it be to me according to Your word!

“…given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” Let it be to me according to Your word!

 “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.”

 Let it be to us all according to His Word!