Infertility

The Hoary Head*

The day was overcast, cold, and windy. I fumbled with the transferring of groceries from my Aldi cart to the empty bags in the back of the van. My two-year old sat in the cart, playfully kicking me with his legs as I did my work, adding to the annoyance of the morning. Forgot to wear gloves, didn’t bring enough bags, forgot to unload all the junk from the back of the van so I’d have room for groceries, child won’t stop whining….

Apparently I didn’t do a very good job of hiding my aggravation.

I heard the rattle of cart wheels behind me and then noticed the rattling stop as they reached my location. I waited for a minute or so and then glanced over my shoulder. There stood an elderly man in a thin coat and jeans, a patient smile parting the deep creases on his face. He held out a quarter and asked if he could take my cart for me. His face held my gaze for some time as I marveled at his resemblance to my own grandfather, who had left this world years ago. He was smaller in stature and his face was much gentler, but the similarity was enough to tug at my heart. With a cart already in his hand, it was obvious he was just relieving me from having to return my own.

“Oh–thank you,” I smiled back. “I’ll try and hurry.” I fumbled even more, feeling his silent presence at my back and knowing that he was just as cold as my son and I were.

I finished the unloading and closed the door. In a feeble attempt at being witty I wheeled the cart around towards the man and said with a smile, “Did you want the kid, too, or just the cart?”

Without missing a beat and without the slightest change in his kindly expression he responded: “If my wife were still with me we’d probably take you up on that. We never had any of our own. She had five misses and the doctor told us we shouldn’t try for any more.”

Somehow in the midst of him sharing his story the child was removed, the cart and money exchanged, and then I uttered a weak but sincere “Thank you” before he shuffled off, still smiling. I don’t remember giving him any other response. I felt speechless.

As I drove out of the parking lot, the tears came. Tears of embarrassment for sticking my foot in my mouth. Tears of gratitude for the whiny boy in the backseat. Tears of guilt as I recognized, yet again, how often this gift is taken for granted. Tears of sorrow for loved ones with an empty back seat. But mostly, tears of awe at being in the presence of such kindness, such an awareness of other’s struggles, and such thoughtfulness from someone who had lost so much. Even in what may be the last decade of his life, he was looking for ways to serve, to give out of what some might see as emptiness. But he didn’t look empty to me at all. I have a strong hunch that Someone was keeping him full.

* “The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness.” Proverbs 16:31, KJV

Mommy Arms

I recently had the blesséd privilege of spending two weeks in the home of a family of nine who was welcoming home a new, baby sister.

It was a season of firsts for me: first time watching a newborn grow and shape-shift daily; first time watching up-close as a beautiful mother suffered through the chapping and cramping that come in the first weeks of breastfeeding; first time helping older brothers and sisters transition and process the change that comes with a new family member in the house; first time tutoring an almost seven-year-old through her math lesson; and first time stripping and washing bedsheets which had been wetted.

It was also the first time I stood in a kitchen holding a baby for close to an hour-and-a-half and realized that my arms weren’t shaking.

You see, it always happens. Within ten minutes of holding any baby, my arms begin to vibrate. Even though I lift eleven times that baby’s weight over my head every day in the gym, the plyometric activity of holding a tiny baby for mere minutes makes my arms begin to shake. It always embarrasses me when that happens, for it is a physical, tangible, public reminder of what I do not hold every day in my own home. I do not have mommy arms.

And the hardest part of finally earning mommy arms is that they feel terribly empty when you have to go back to your own home.

Not All Mothers

I recently received this note from a sister in Christ. It brought me great comfort in my barrenness:

In our household we have come to love the story of Ruth. [My husband] teaches it on a cycle to the youth of our church. One of his main points is that it is as much Naomi’s story as Ruth’s and Boaz’, for it is the story of the Promise of the Seed and Naomi’s Redeemer.

In the last chapter, when Boaz’ and Ruth’s son is born, the village women remark that Ruth was as good as ten sons to Naomi. This is true, isn’t it? Through this child comes the continuation of what will be the Davidic line resulting in David’s King. How wondrous! And yet Ruth is not Naomi’s daughter and blood relation. Instead, upon having seen and tasted her mother-in-law’s faith in her home country, Ruth is a daughter by confession. “Your people will be my people; your God, my God.”

Not all mothers give birth to their daughters.

That You May Taste and Prove

Why do you suffer? Because God does not – and will not – forsake you.

“When faith begins, God does not forsake it; He lays the holy cross on our backs to strengthen us and to make faith powerful in us. The holy Gospel is a powerful Word. Therefore it cannot do its work without trials, and only he who tastes it is aware that it has such power.

Where suffering and the cross are found, there the Gospel can show and exercise its power. It is a Word of life. Therefore it must exercise all its power in death. In the absence of dying and death it can do nothing, and no one can become aware that it has such power and is stronger than sin and death. Therefore the apostle says ‘to prove you’; that is God inflicts no glowing fire or heat – cross and suffering, which make you burn – on you for any other purpose than ‘to prove you,’ whether you also cling to His Word. This is is recorded in Wisd. of Sol. 10:12 of Jacob: “God sent him an arduous contest, so that he might know that godliness is more powerful than anything.”

God lays a cross on all believers in order that they may taste and prove the power of God – the power which they have taken hold of through faith.”

– Martin Luther (Treasury of Daily Prayer, Writing for December 2nd)

I’ve Always Wanted To…

Barrenness is a no fun-and-games deal. There are days when I’m “okay” with it, and the next day I struggle with my own reality. I’ve survived days in which I’ve wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. I’ve asked the Lord to take this suffering away from me. I’ve begged the Lord to open my womb and give me more children. He listens, and He gives me what I need, whether or not that includes children.

I really want more children. However, the Lord has determined that more children is not what I really need. Ouch. That statement hurts. Still, dear sister, you and I live under the Lord’s grace and mercy. He grants us daily breath, His Word and Sacraments, and He gives us the vocations of daughter, aunt, niece, and friend.

Why isn’t motherhood on that list? That’s a harsh concept to swallow; it certainly doesn’t seem fair. For now, though, motherhood is not the vocation God has given you. Rather, He is blessing you with the time, resources, and opportunities to serve your neighbor in other ways. That art class you always wanted to take? Do it; maybe you’re the modern Monet. Perhaps your art can give silent witness to the faith you have in God. The trip to Europe that you and your spouse dream about? Now might be the time to pick up the travel information and see the Luther sites. The parents at church who seem overwhelmed? Perhaps you could offer to babysit for a few hours and give the couple some time together. Does your elderly neighbor need some company? Could you offer to bring dinner and enjoy a nice conversation? Are your nieces and nephews struggling with their identities? Can you send them an encouraging note or text and remind them of their value in your family?

These vocations may never satisfy the craving and deep desire to be a mother. However, they are vocations that serve God and your neighbor. There can be great joy and satisfaction in loving others. Undoubtedly, there are days that will drive you to despair. It will be difficult to remember that your life is NOT over, despite the fact that you have not been given children. Your grief is real; there is no denying the sorrow that accompanies barrenness. Know this: You have been given grace to live the life that has already been granted to you, despite its suffering and sorrows. You are a daughter, a friend, a niece, an aunt, a godmother, and more. God loves you, just as you are. The Lord is blessing you with opportunities to try something new. What is it that you’ve always wanted to do?

Infertility Ethics Symposium in Review

Here are a few intriguing quotes from last Saturday’s Infertility Ethics Symposium.

(mea culpa: I took notes the old-fashioned way – by hand – during the symposium, so please forgive any unintended inaccuracy in my quotes.)

From Rev. William Cwirla’s “Be Fruitful and Multiply: Fertility Ethics Viewed in the Light of Creation and Redemption”:

“We have never said no when it comes to the gift of children, and God has never said yes.”

“Jesus heals a myriad of diseases in His ministry, but He never healed a barren couple.”

“Anything that shapes our identity apart from Christ is idolatry.”

“We are stewards and we are priests of God’s creation.”

“Vocation is not the location of our identity but the location of our service.”

From Rev. Dr. James I. Lamb’s “IVF: from Created to Creator”:

“I believe the place we start as theologians in a discussion of IVF is the incarnation of our Lord…We go to a fallopian tube in the virgin Mary.”

“We have a Savior who was an embryo once.”

“God wants every person, every embryo, to be splashed by the waters of Baptism.”

From Rev. Christopher S. Esget’s “Pastoral Care for Those Experiencing Infertility and Miscarriages”:

“Barrenness is not just a diagnosis. It is an ongoing reality.”

“We must be sensitive to the unintentionally excluded.”

“We must preach contentment in the vocations we have, not in the ones we wish we had.”

From Rev. Dr. Robert W. Weise’s “Embryo Adoption: Helping or Hurting My Neighbor?”:

“The one-flesh union is the blessing that God gives the union of husband and wife. We have it physically and spiritually.”

“Surrogacy is a substitute. This is a disconnect in the marital union.”

“Embryo adoption is troubling, because it involves surrogacy…and the death of embryos.”

Interested in knowing more about what was said by our six presenters at the symposium? Look for a downloadable document of the presentations on LCMS’s website sometime within the next few months.

Gift Language in Action

Yesterday’s Sunday school lesson was about Abraham’s visitors from heaven, and this conversation went down in my 4th-5th grade class:

Me: God gave Abraham and Sarah the gift of a child, even in their old age. You may have noticed that Pastor and I have not been given the gift of children. Is God going to give us a child?

Tall Girl: Yes!

Reflective Boy: Well…

Me: Think of it this way, why did God give Abraham and Sarah the gift of a child?

Insightful Boy: Because He promised them a child.

Me: Exactly! God gave Abraham and Sarah the gift of Isaac, because God was fulfilling a promise that He made. Has God promised Pastor and me in His Word that He will give us the gift of a child?

(silence; Petite Girl’s mouth hangs open in careful thought)

Tall Girl: Yes, because even if you don’t have a child, you will adopt a baby and get a child that way. That’s how it works.

Me: Adopted children are gifts from God, too. Pastor and I want to adopt children, but God has not given us children that way, either. Neither has He promised us in His Word that He will do so. We are different from Abraham and Sarah that way. But do you want to hear the good news? Whether or not God gives Pastor, me, or you the gift of children someday, we are already blessed. Do you know why? Because when God kept His promise to Abraham and Sarah, He was also keeping His promise to us. Think about it. Isaac was born and then another child in the next generation and then another child in the next generation and on and on until Who was born?

Insightful Boy: Jesus.

Me: Exactly. In keeping His promise to give Abraham and Sarah a child, God was keeping His promise to give all of us the Child Jesus to save us from our sins. That’s why Pastor and I and you can rejoice even if we are never given the gift of another child.

Just a Couple of Monkeys

I have a confession to make.

(WARNING: my personal, despicable depravity is about to be on full display.)

I am sometimes comforted to hear that God doesn’t just withhold the gift of children from me but also from others.

(Ugh. I know. I apologize for my wretchedness, and I’m hanging my head in utter, red-faced shame.)

It’s just so nice to receive a bit of empathetic correspondence from a sister in Christ and learn that I am not the only childless monkey in the cage being studied and analyzed by curious pedestrians as the exotic species that I am. Thank you, Beth, for hanging out with me and swinging on some ropes for awhile:

I was given your book, He Remember the Barren, and found great comfort in it. My husband and I have been married 16 years, have three children in heaven and none in our home to raise despite years of trying to have biological and adoptive children.

I just listened to your June interview with Rev. Wilken and laughed in commiseration when you mentioned that women go through a mid-life crisis a little early. I agree that we face our ultimate barrenness a bit early but in the past few months, since we have closed our adoption file, I’ve been thinking of my mid-life crisis in the sense of “empty nest syndrome.” I am facing a few years earlier than most the question of “What’s next?” What does God have planned for me in this next part of life as I grieve the end of dreams of motherhood and embrace a home filled with two. He is beginning to answer those questions but as always His plan unfolds over time and I must trust, obey, and keep listening.

Amen, and may God bless and keep you, Beth, in this empty-nesting season of life. xo

Not What You Expect

Barrenness is and always will be a bad thing. It is evidence of sin in the world, a dysfunction of God’s good creation, a deviation from how He created things to be.

However, I am blessed to suffer from barrenness.

Really, I am, for I used to think I could get pregnant whenever and however I wanted. In my barrenness, I have been properly chastened and disciplined, for now I know the truth that I can do no such thing apart from God’s blesséd giving.

I am blessed to suffer from childlessness.

Really, I am, for I used to believe the world’s promise that my own desire to be an adoptive mother and my own good works of planning, saving, seeking, advocating, training, earning, praying, and hoop-jumping would grant me success in adopting a child. In my childlessness, I have been properly chastened and disciplined, for now I know the truth – the whole truth – that God really is the Giver of the gift of all children.

Now, in my lowly estate, I can boldly confess this Biblical truth to all of you:

But for God’s wise, blesséd giving, none of us would be parents of conceived or adopted children, and we are wise to trust His prudent allocation. For, He promises to be wise in our stead and for our sake.

“Blessed is the man whom you discipline, O LORD.”

It Didn’t Work Out

I’m not a huge fan of this phrase.

Mind you, there’s nothing wrong with it. I just don’t think it fully confesses the whole truth when it comes to adoption.

So whenever people ask me about the status of our current adoption situation, I prefer to say:

“It didn’t work out in such a way as to make us parents.”

Because it did actually work out.

Just not the way we wanted.

Thanks be to God that, even though He has not given us the gift of children, He gives us the gift of Faith which trusts in His working all things for good in the lives of His children. Even the children we don’t get to parent. Even us.

What joy and peace can be found in Christ Jesus!