Infertility

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.

A Father’s Grief for His Barren Daughter

Barrenness affects everyone in our families, possibly no one more than our parents. In our barrenness, they, too, are barren. My father lovingly penned this, and he gave me permission to post it for all the other dads out there who may be grieving for their barren daughters. He wants you to know that you are not alone.

“Father of the Tried” by Bob Roley

I have just been sitting here looking at the picture on the cover of the book He Remembers the Barren. Such a haunting picture that seems to cut clean to your soul. How much pain must be associated with barrenness and the loneliness that follows? How can you console someone with such grief as depicted in that picture?

Since I am a man of 60+ years with married children and grandchildren, you would think that I would not find this such a haunting subject. I come from a large family with many brothers and sisters, and my mom comes from a large family. As a result, I have several aunts, uncles, and cousins. I remember growing up and realizing that several of my cousins were adopted, but, being young and living in an era when no one really talked about that kind of stuff, I had no idea why. I am now much more knowledgeable about problems of infertility and what kind of an impact they have had on my aunts, sisters, nieces, and, yes, my daughters. I am also very aware that those medical issues may have been passed down through my mother’s side of the family.

So, why am I haunted by my daughter’s book and the picture on the front of it? My daughters, who have been the pride of my life and for whom I would gladly die, are now faced with this pain. Even those with children suffer along with the ones who can’t have children. We have had so many years of fun times, family outings, adventures, and just the joy of being together, and we still do. So, why must such near-perfect times be strained by such pain? Is this all my fault?

I am no theologian, no great Lutheran thinker, not even a good Christian, but I do know this: Sin is the problem, and God has taken care of that for me. I keep remembering the part in C.S. Lewis’s book, Till We Have Faces, where the main character wants to ask God all these questions, and, when she finally gets to stand before God, all she can do is look at His face and realize that before Him there are no questions.

I look forward to the day I get to stand before God as one of His children and realize there are no more questions.

Mother of Eight

I prayed to God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to make me a mother, and, in His mercy, He has granted my request.

Just last week, in preparation for parenthood, my husband and I turned in our zippy Honda Fit for a twelve-passenger van. We stocked up on Juicy Juice boxes, cereal bars, and Cheese-Its. We gathered blue, pink, and polka-dotted fleece blankets to keep our kids warm at night and tended to all of the health insurance forms and waivers required of every family.

Then, on the morning of July 9th (before the sun had even cleared the Eastern horizon) we became the happy parents of eight sleepy, groggy youth from our congregation. We loaded them into the van, waved at all of the people gathered in the church parking lot to celebrate the occasion, and turned north towards the Coram Deo Higher Things Youth Conference in Bloomington, IL.

Throughout the next seven days, my husband and I experienced parenting adventures to our hearts’ content: managing frequent potty breaks, setting curfews, making sure everyone ate enough fruits and veggies, teaching how to respect each others’ personal boundaries, encouraging the shy and taming the bold, removing splinters, running last-minute errands, talking about God’s faithfulness to all of us in Jesus, taking the Body and Blood of the Lord together, sharing in each others’ dreams and desires, and seeing the world. We were a proper “Pastor and Kate Plus Eight” (or, “Pastor and Katie Plus Eightie,” as the youth preferred to call us).

The best part? Our nightly devotions. As we prayed the Lord’s Prayer together and recited the Apostles’ Creed as one, I marveled at the faith of my children. What a delight to confess the same faith in the Triune God! What a comfort to be one in the body of Christ!

On the night of the last devotion of our trip, I found myself looking around through tears of joy at each precious soul. I am a mother in the Church. I get to participate in the upbringing of the young people in my congregation. I get to pray for them, encourage them, admonish them, teach them, commune with them, sing with them, and remind them of the grace they have been given in their baptism. I even get to take them on youth trips and be their “mom” for a week.

Thank you, God, for answering my prayer.

In the Courts of the Lord’s House

How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Ps. 84:1-2

There is no better place to go when you are at the breaking point, no place more suited to address your emotional wounds and your breaking heart, than the House of the Lord. I don’t just mean the building itself, of course, but the Divine Service that is held there weekly by the man who is in the stead of Christ and commanded by Him to administer to you the medicine you need. The cleansing, healing, and nourishing effects of what happens each Sunday to those gathered in the Lord’s House are supernatural and, though invisible to the naked eye, completely transforming to the soul.

In They Will See His Face (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2002), Richard C. Eyer highlights seven parts of the liturgy that speak to the frailty of our human existence and are particularly meaningful for the barren woman. The consistent and dependable flow of liturgical worship weaves Scripture throughout and includes all the promises that seem to be forgotten throughout the week. Our souls, so weak and weary from the crosses we carry and so easily distracted by worldly pursuits, have the opportunity to refocus on Him who is the true source of all help, comfort and joy—Jesus Christ.

At the beginning of the service we have the opportunity to confess those sins that always accompany the soul that feels deprived of something. There’s discontent, jealousy, impatience, even idolatry at times. Guided by the words written in our hymnals we admit that, “We have not loved You with our whole heart,” and we plead with the Lord to, “Forgive us, renew us and lead us, so that we may delight in Your will and walk in Your ways, to the glory of Your holy name.” That’s right, the sinner remembers, through Christ’s renewal and His guidance, I can find delight in His will, whatever that may turn out to be.

Having confessed our sins and then receiving absolution from our pastor, we seek to enter into God’s presence with what Eyer refers to as the “password,” the Invocation, where we speak the name that was spoken to us on the day of our baptisms, when we were brought into God’s family: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of Holy Spirit. “It is there,” says Eyer, “in the presence of God and lifted out of ourselves by God, that we find healing for all our anxieties, worries, and fears. And if we are willing, they can all be left behind so that we may return to our homes in peace” (p. 35). In God’s presence, under the shadow of His name, there is no need for those anxieties, worries, or fears. They are washed away once again.

The experience of barrenness can be so isolating and can cause one to feel separated from others who might not understand the depths of your pain. A harmful gap can occur between you and those around you who have experienced such effortless fertility. It is in the fellowship of our brothers and sisters in Christ, coming into the presence of God and joining together throughout the service in prayer and song that this gap is bridged and our focus becomes united. “Loneliness cries out for the solitude that comes from a maturing faith. Solitude is found in fellowship with God and the worshiping community, where we are fed the Gospel in Word and Sacraments by God Himself” (p. 46).

Depression is also one of many responses to barrenness, and Eyer helps us see how vital it is that those dealing with depression listen carefully to the Word that is read during the service. “The Old Testament, the Epistle, and the Gospel assure us that in the midst of our difficulties, disappointments, and depression, God is there to do what we cannot. … The importance of hearing the Word of God in times of depression, as well as any other, is that it provides a vision of what is objectively true regardless of how we feel at the moment. We need to hear the Word of hope even if we don’t feel it at the moment. God’s Word to the believer is always a Word of hope” (pg. 70). As opposed to what some well-meaning matron of the congregation might tell you, this “hope” that we trust in is not the hope of conceiving—it’s so much bigger than that. It is the hope that the One already conceived long ago by the Holy Spirit, our Lord Jesus Christ, will make all things new for us after we breathe our last breath on this earth. No more tears, no more longing, no more wishing for something that is not ours—only the acquisition of that heavenly reward which we do not deserve.

I encourage you to read Eyer’s book and learn more about “The Peace of the Lord and the Healing of Grief,” “The Prayers of the Church and Healing of our Sickness,” and “The Creed and the Healing of our Intellect.” So much more comfort and encouragement awaits the barren woman in these pages. She who understands what is truly offered in the Divine Service will cherish the relief that it brings and will be better able to acknowledge Christ as the only One who fully satisfies our wounded hearts and makes us whole again.

I come, oh Savior, to Thy table

For weak and weary is my soul.

Thou Bread of Life alone art able

To satisfy and make me whole.

Lord, may Thy body and Thy blood

Be for my soul the highest good.

                Lutheran Service Book #618

A Baby in My Tummy

“Do you have a baby in your tummy?”

Almost every child in my life has asked me this question at some time or another. Most recently, my four-year-old niece turned around on my lap one afternoon, wrinkled her nose up at me, and asked, “Where are your children?”

It never offends me when children ask me this. Honestly, it kind of comforts me. They get it. They understand that something is askew. They can sense that I, a grown-up, married woman, should have kids. It is almost as if their inquisitive eyes (or, my niece’s nose for that matter) are saying, “What’s up with that?”

I believe an honest question deserves an honest answer.

I shrugged at my niece. “God has not given me any children. I pray that He will, but He knows what is best for me and Uncle Michael.”

My niece thought about it for a moment, nodded her head, and turned back to her previous activity. Of course. No drama. No pity. It is what it is.

I think we can learn a lot from children.

The IVF Question

Well, it’s time. You knew this would come up sooner or later. It’s just something that can’t be avoided when discussing infertility in the 21st century. Maybe you’re considering the procedure yourself with the encouragement of your physician, family and friends. Maybe you’re tired of hearing about other couples who have successfully conceived by means of IVF while you and your spouse have decided that it’s not an option. Either way, this post is for you.

It wouldn’t be appropriate to dive into this sticky subject without making sure that we define what we’re talking about (courtesy of the Word English Dictionary):

IVF=A technique enabling some women who are unable to conceive to bear children. Egg cells removed from a woman’s ovary are fertilized by sperm in vitro; some of the resulting fertilized egg cells are incubated until the blastocyst stage, which are then implanted into her uterus.

 Merriam-Webster defines it similarly. These definitions are medical definitions using medical terminology. What would it look like if we used non-medical English and a biblical understanding of the life process?

IVF=A technique enabling some women who are unable to conceive to bear children. Egg cells surgically removed from a woman’s ovary are fertilized by sperm in a glass dish; some of the tiny human beings who are conceived are kept [in a laboratory] under the proper conditions for development until these children have grown a bit stronger, and they are then implanted into her uterus.

 After reading this through again, there is one word that should be jumping out at you as the most important word of all. Did you catch it? Some. It’s so small you almost don’t realize it’s of any significance and yet it changes everything. Some of the tiny humans have a chance at life and therefore some do not. What is implied but not explained is the fact that some of the tiny humans are not needed. They are of no value to the new parents and are therefore destroyed or frozen. If we believe that human life begins at conception, then it’s clear that IVF, as defined here, makes some tiny human lives and then destroys or freezes many of those human beings. That is the main problem.

We know the Bible speaks to this point. The Fifth Commandment, “You shall not murder,” applies to life at all ages and stages. Martin Luther’s explanation to this commandment makes it clear that we have broken this law whenever we employ any procedure that hurts or harms our neighbor in his body and fails to help and support him in every physical need.  Christians believe, and now science has acknowledged, that life begins at conception, whether in the womb or in a dish. And all life is precious and worthy of our compassion and protection.

Though difficult to admit, the couple who emerges from a “successful” IVF procedure does so as the parents of both living and dead (or frozen) children. There’s much rejoicing and congratulations exchanged, but no acknowledgement of what’s been lost. Is it ignorance? Or is it apathy? In both cases we have to admit that it is sin. There’s no getting around it.

At this point, let me remind you of the life-changing words from the apostle John: “If we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God, who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrightousness” (1 John 1:8-9). Yes, that means you, too, who are sitting there perhaps without the burden of IVF in your past but plenty of self-rightousness, jealousy, and distrust in your heart to even out the scales. The call to repentance and the promise of forgiveness is yours as well. Christ’s payment for sin was necessary not just for some, but for all. Humility before God and the desire to live and walk under His law in all things prepares the heart to receive the cleansing blood of Christ and the joyous proclamation of forgiveness in the Gospel, both preached and applied individually. Repent, confess, receive, and then put the past behind you. Believe our Lord when He says, “I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins” (Isaiah 43:25).

So then, how are we to view the children who survive the IVF procedure and come to full-term, knowing that they were conceived in sin? My friend Katie has the answer: “We can know with certainty that all children are exactly what God tells us they are in His Word: a heritage from Him.  Whatever controversies surround in vitro fertilization, the children that are conceived and born to us through such procedures are still a heritage from the Lord.  God’s love is what makes any and every child valuable in this life, not the means of parentage.”

Here’s a similar example: Many children adopted into Christian families were conceived outside of marriage. This behavior is not part of God’s plan for procreation. And yet the result of that act is a precious child of God, baptized into His name and living a life under His care and protection, graciously placed within a Christian family. God takes an evil situation and turns it into good, as He has done repeatedly throughout history.

Despite the fact that I desperately want more children, I still could never condone or encourage anyone to engage in immoral behavior that would result in conception, birth, and a potential adoption for me or any other woman. Likewise, we can treasure and be thankful for those children who came to us through IVF, even though the process was not at all how God intended to create families, and even though we hope and pray that others will avoid IVF.

Does Jesus love the children conceived through IVF? He most certainly does. In fact, He’s on their side. He says, “As you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to Me” (Matt. 25:40). But Jesus says this not only about the IVF children who survive, but also about those who are intentionally allowed to die or are frozen. “As you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to Me.” Since life begins at conception, let us never think that IVF, as defined above, is a permissible option for Christians.

For more information on this topic, please check out the following resources:

http://issuesetc.org/archives/nov08/nov19.html (Dr. Kevin Voss of the Concordia Bioethics Institute on Issues, Etc.)

In Vitro Fertilization: Moral or Immoral?

What Are We to Do with the Embryos?

A Review of Reproductive Technologies