Infertility

Gift Language

There is an eerie silence that surrounds the topic of barrenness in the church today. All of us are afraid to talk about it, and, in my humble opinion, it is because we have abandoned the use of “gift language” in the body of Christ.

Rarely do we talk about children as God defines them in the Bible, using His words of “heritage, fruit, blessing, reward.” Instead, we refer to children as the world does, adopting cultural phrases like “family planning, baby machine, reproduction, fertility science.” By our language alone, we suggest to each other that children are something to be planned for and controlled.

Blech.

This “control language” is a waste of breath in the church, because it isn’t true. It isn’t God’s language. It doesn’t come from His Word. It is something we humans have made up in an attempt to explain and define and harness that which remains mysterious and untamed. “Control language” falls short every time. Family planning? My family isn’t working out the way I planned. Baby machine? Mine didn’t come with a warranty, and I’m still trying to figure out the return policy on this thing. Reproduction? It’s procreation, dude. Fertility science? With a 33% success rate of implantation in IVF, even fertility’s most exact science can’t give me a baby 67% of the time.

That’s why you, Church, are afraid to talk to me. The world has given you faulty language that fails to deliver truth, comfort, or babies. Give me God’s “gift language” every time. Remind me that children are a heritage from the Lord, a gift from Him that is received. And when I get mad that God has not yet given me the gift of children, keep watch with me in my grief and use some more of God’s “gift language.” Tell me about the gift of salvation won for me by Christ on the cross and applied to me in my baptism. Tell me about the gift of God’s Word which creates and sustains my faith in Him. Tell me about the gift of Christ’s Body and Blood given to me at the altar every Sunday for my benefit. And when I still grieve at my childlessness, gently remind me that God gives other good gifts in this life (fellowship, recreation, music, food, education, etc.), not just the gift of children.

So, don’t be afraid. Come up and talk to me. Just, please, leave all of that “control language” out in the world where it belongs and, instead, talk to me about the good gifts we share in Christ. I will try to do the same for you.

Interview on “Studio A”

Thank you to KFUO Radio and Roland Lettner for interviewing two of our site hosts on the “Studio A” program yesterday afternoon. We hope you’ll have a listen, too.

Click here for a direct link to the program’s MP3 file. (Our interview begins at 29:10.)

Or, if you would like to learn more about KFUO Radio and the “Studio A” program, click here. (To listen to our interview from this link, click on the hour 2 MP3 file of the Wednesday, September 7th broadcast. Our interview starts at 29:10.)

No Bus for Me

Comment Submitted: I turn 44 this month, and all I can do is cry. I feel, as a barren woman, like everyone has caught their bus in life, and I am alone at the bus stop with no bus for me. I tremble at the thought for the rest of my life I have to hear the words, “How many kids do you have?” and that I have to  mumble, “None,” with a lump in my throat – for the rest of my life! I am a Christian who loves God and often wonder why He left me out. 

My dear sister, do not hold back the tears. Your barrenness is one way that creation groans in response to the disease of sin (Romans 8:22-23), and it is unfair and painful and confusing. Of course you feel left out! Though, it is not God who has left you out but the messed-up, miserable ways of this fallen world.

Here is the hard truth: Outside of giving you the Child Jesus to save you from your sin, God has never promised in His Word to give you a child of your own.

Yet, God promises you so much more, and – joy of all joys! – He keeps His promises. God promises to love you (John 3:16, Romans 5:8); God promises to save you from your sin (Matthew 1:20-21, Mark 16:16, Romans 6); God promises in baptism to adopt you into His family and make you an heir of heaven (Galatians 3:26-4:7); God promises to never leave you but to faithfully come to you in church through the reading of His Word and in the Holy Supper (Hebrews 13:5, Matthew 18:20, Exodus 20:24b, John 1:1, Matthew 26:26-29); God promises to provide all that you need to support this body and life (Matthew 6:30-32 and 10: 29-31, Colossians 1:17); and God promises to work all things, even your barrenness, for your eternal good (Romans 8:28).

Sometimes in our grief and suffering, even though we know and trust in these promises of God, it can still feel like God has abandoned us. Thankfully, God’s love and care for us exists apart from how we feel. God is present, whether we feel Him or not, because He promises never to leave us (Hebrews 13:5).

On those inevitable days when your flesh deceives you and makes you doubt the presence of God, remember that you cannot increase your faith of your own doing. Faith is a work of the Holy Spirit within us through the blessed means of His Word. It is for this very reason that I urge you to be in church regularly and to go talk with your pastor about your suffering. Let Him speak those faith-increasing Words of God into your ears, so that you may be truly comforted and strengthened unto life everlasting.

“Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.
My soul also is greatly troubled.
But you, O Lord – how long?
Turn, O Lord, deliver my life;
save me for the sake of your steadfast love.
For in death there is no remembrance of you;
in Sheol who will give you praise?
I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
My eye wastes away because of grief;
it grows weak because of all my foes.
Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
The Lord has heard my plea;
the Lord accepts my prayer.” (Psalm 6:2-9, ESV)

Will It Ever Stop Hurting?

I’ve asked myself that question time and time again. I seem to experience various stages of grief throughout the year. I never can tell when the feelings are going to surface.  Different situations stir up hurt and anger and sadness. I see the new mom in the store, her baby sleeping peacefully in the car-seat. I see the teenage parents, holding their toddler’s hands. I read the birth announcements in the newspaper. These things all create a longing, a hunger for a child to grow inside me.  And I wonder: When will the pain ever stop?  When will I finally be “at peace” with my current station in life?

It’s really a control issue.  I want to be in control of my life, and I want to direct what happens to it.  I want to have another child, and it hasn’t happened yet.  Then I realize the greediness and selfishness of my thoughts and confess my sin.  God knows; He hasn’t abandoned me in my anger and sorrow and sin.  He forgives me and washes that sin away.  It’s gone.  And I am content with all the blessings that are already mine.

Until I see the new parents in church with their little bundle of joy.  And I want what they have.  Yes, I get those feelings of anger towards God while in church.  In church!  Why hasn’t He given me more children?  Children are gifts.  Why haven’t I received more of His gifts?

Here’s the truth:  I have received His gifts.  I have received His name in Holy Baptism.  I have received His very body and blood in the Lord’s Supper.

Why haven’t I received more children?  I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know this:  God knows me, and He knows what is best for me.  He has already given me His best – His own Son Jesus – for ME.  I have already received so many blessings!

So… will it ever stop hurting?  I can’t answer that, but God knows my sorrow and hurt.  His own Son hung on a cross and was abandoned by the entire world.  God knows anger; His children have turned their backs on Him for years.  And still He loves me.  He knows my grief and my sorrows.  He loves me despite my anger towards Him.  He knows that I hurt, and He’s right there beside me.  He knows me, and that brings some comfort to my hurting soul.

But You’re Still Young!

Whenever new acquaintances learn that I do not have any children, the first response I usually get from them is, “But you’re still young! You have plenty of time to have a baby. Your time is coming.”

I’ve been hearing that for nine years, now, and each year it gets a little harder to hear. Part of me is thankful for the optimism of strangers, because deep down inside I really do hope they are right. But what if they aren’t? I often think of my barren friends who are past the childbearing age. What was it like when new acquaintances stopped making plenty-of-time-platitudes to them, when strangers could tell that their time had indeed passed? What kept them from despairing when all physical, worldly hope of ever carrying a child in their womb had gone?

I recently received the following email from a woman who is past the age of childbearing, and her confession of faith brought me great joy. How comforting to know that the same promises of God which console me in my barrenness today will continue to sustain and comfort me should I remain childless past the time of my own fecundity.

My heart goes out to you, since I am also barren. Even though I am 57 years old, it still is difficult to realize that God did not intend to give me the blessings of children of my own. From early childhood on, I only wanted to be a mother. That never happened. When it didn’t seem to be happening for us naturally, we explored first adoption, and then medical help, but neither were options for us. We waited too long and were considered too old to be considered adoptive parents by church and state social agencies, even though we were in our mid 30’s. Private adoption at that time meant that the birth parents would have all the say in how we raised our children, and we weren’t comfortable with that. We then went as far as we felt it would be God-pleasing in the medical procedures of that day and time. We finally had to accept that God’s will for us was His will for us!  Knowing that He loved us even more than we loved each other, we could look forward to whatever He planned for our future. 

Now, two decades later, I still mourn the fact that the infants I hold and the children I love will never be mine. God is good. My family is huge. There are new babies joining our family every few months. The most recent was born in June, and now we hear that another niece will be blessed with her second child in January. God has given me many nieces and nephews to love and cherish. However, it will never be the same as raising one of His precious lambs. 

So…we hold to God’s love for us and our love for each other. He has blessed us in so many ways! His wisdom is not mine, and that is good. He does know what is best for me, for my husband, for my family, and for you. Whatever God has in store for you will be a blessing to both you and to others. I pray He gives you a child, but only if that is His perfect will.


The Book Is Now Available!

Now available through Lutheran Legacy!

Order your print copy here.

He Remembers the Barren by Katie Schuermann is a tender conversation with women in the church who wrestle with the issue of barrenness in marriage. Addressing questions frequently asked by those struggling with infertility, the author walks alongside the reader, relaying personal stories to both encourage and support those who are suffering. Issues such as control of our bodies, family planning, and the source of conception are examined through a theological lens, reminding the reader of her clear vocation in Christ and pointing her to the ultimate source of fruitfulness, vitality, and comfort, our Triune God.

With Psalm readings, beloved hymn texts, and collects penned by Dcs. Melissa A. Degroot, each chapter of He Remembers the Barren resonates on a devotional level that is pitch perfect for women struggling with the grief and shame which often accompany barrenness. This book also serves as a valuable resource for pastors, family members, and friends seeking to better understand the barren experience of a loved one.

John T. Pless, Assistant Professor of Pastoral Ministry at Concordia Theological Seminary and respected commentator on Christian ethics, has this to say about the book: “This is a book that is about Christ who alone is the source of our joy and hope, our life and peace. Katie does not hold out a Jesus who will fix the problem of barrenness but a Jesus whose favor for sinners reaches to the very depths of our being. As Katie so aptly puts it, fulfillment is found not in the womb but in Christ. Writing with tenderness and a realism shaped by the cross, Katie makes a lively use of the Gospel to draw her sisters away from the temptations to self-pity and despair to the sure and certain promises of the Son of God recorded in the Scriptures and proclaimed in sermon and sacrament. Only in Christ is there true contentment.”

The Difference

I recently had the joy of spending a few days this summer in the home of my dear friend in South Dakota. From dawn ‘til dusk, my friend’s five, little blessings ran around in baseball caps and tutus (sometimes at the same time) alternately playing doctor, reading books, putting together puzzles, working in the garden, and “helping” Mommy. My friend’s home is delightful chaos, and I found myself basting in the youthful commotion until my barren-weariness was good and tenderized from all of the love and attention.

I stayed long enough to need a load of laundry done, and my friend generously offered me the use of her washer and dryer. I popped down to her basement with my laundry bag in hand, and I almost tripped over my own dropped jaw at the sight of her laundry room floor.

There, sitting in an organized row, were six, full laundry baskets. Six! Upon closer inspection, I noticed that some of the laundry baskets even had extra baskets stacked underneath them. I counted them all. Sixteen. My friend owns sixteen laundry baskets!

All of those blessings running around upstairs obviously came with some dirty, back-breaking responsibility. Their life of playing and growing and learning resulted in my friend needing more laundry baskets than I have fingers on my hands. The term “mountain of laundry” took on a whole new meaning for me. I looked down at my wimpy lavender and lime green polka-dotted laundry bag and felt kind of embarrassed at its meager size.

I went upstairs and asked my friend, “Do you ever use all of those laundry baskets at the same time?”

She blushed. “Yes. Don’t tease me!”

“Um, that doesn’t warrant teasing. That warrants a maid!”

Here is the difference: I yearn for more laundry, and my friend yearns for less. I crave a little more chaos, and she craves a little more privacy. We can see the blessings and the burdens in each others lives. What a gift it is to know and trust that God in His wisdom and love gives both of us good gifts, and what a privilege it is to pray for each other and support one another in the body of Christ.

I hope my friend can come visit me in Dallas. I think she will be refreshed by the quiet and solitude of my home, just as I was refreshed by the perpetual, snuggly motion in her own. Though I may leave my laundry room door closed when she comes…

Am I Normal?

Question Submitted: My husband thinks I should not be so upset about our infertility. He would not mind if we never had a child, so he thinks my grief is not normal. I can’t help but be upset. I am not sure what to do.

You are grieving a death of sorts – the death of a lifelong dream, the death of your family line, and the death of children you have never had. That kind of loss does not come easily to anyone. It is no wonder you feel upset.

That being said, please be careful not to hold it against your husband that he does not share your grief. He is not the same person as you, and it is okay for him to have his own, honest response to all of this, even when that response is different from your own. Your husband’s absence of grief does not automatically mean he is cold-hearted; it just means that he, for whatever reason, is not grieved at this time.

Keep telling your husband how you feel. Don’t force it on him, but don’t hide it from him. Be honest. Help him to see that though you two may not react the same way to your infertility, your feelings of grief are just as valid and real as his absence of them. In the end, the important thing is not that you both feel the same way about your infertility but that you both love and support each other regardless of your respective feelings. You both are on the same side, after all, and you get to share in each others’ joys and sorrows. And, when you both inevitably fail in that sharing, you can speak the words of forgiveness to each other because Christ has completely forgiven you.

I know you may feel alone in all of this. Please, go talk with your pastor. He is Christ’s man there for you, and he can remind you of the promises God has made to you in His Word to work everything in this life for your eternal good. You need to be hearing those promises, especially in your grief.

Also, remember that your Lord Jesus has promised to always hear your prayers (Psalm 6:9; Proverbs 15:29; 1 Peter 3:12). You can trust Him to support you in your grief and sorrow, even at those times when your husband may not.

Words to Memorize

Other than the Lord’s Prayer, I can think of no better prayer for the barren woman to have engraved in her heart than the collect for the fifth Sunday after Trinity. I have pledged to memorize it myself this week so that it might be quickly recalled during those moments of heartache. It beautifully refocuses our desires to that which will never disappoint us.

O God, You have prepared for those who love You good things that surpass all understanding. Pour into our hearts such love toward You that we, loving You above all things, may obtain Your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.