Infertility

Differing Perspectives

Nurse: Do you have any children?

Me: We have not been blessed with any children, and I’m thinking maybe it won’t happen at this point.

Nurse: Oh, now, I don’t know. I have many friends who have done IVF, and, then, when they stopped trying and finally relaxed, they got pregnant.

Me: Well, my husband and I’ve never done IVF, so we’ve been relaxing for over eleven years, now. We’ve probably earned a black belt in relaxation.

Nurse: But, still, you never know. I have a friend who tried for years to get pregnant. Then, when she and her husband adopted a child, they suddenly got pregnant.

Me: I have a sister who has adopted three children and has never been pregnant. I also have two close friends who adopted three children between them in the last year, and neither of them have gotten pregnant since. And my husband and I never got pregnant after going through the foster parent training program. That was three years ago.

Nurse: I don’t know. I know too many people who’ve had that happen.

Me: I’m not saying it doesn’t happen. I’m just saying that it also doesn’t happen.

Nurse: Well, it seems like a lot of people get pregnant that way.

Me: And a lot of people don’t. As many as one-third of the couples who seek medical help for their infertility never achieve a pregnancy.

Nurse: That’s not a very big number.

Me: It is to one-third of the couples trying to get pregnant.

Nurse: The glass is half full.

Me: And half empty. But what does it matter? Why bother measuring the glass at all when taking a drink? It is what it is, and it is given to us by God for our good. Bottoms up!

Advent Admonition

My barren sisters:

Tonight is the night you watch other people’s children participate in Christmas pageants. It’s time for you to build relationships with those children. You said “amen” at their baptisms, so they are yours to support and guard and protect in the Faith. Start talking to them. Teach their Sunday school class. Lead them in music. Have them over to your house for dinner. Show them videos of your pet bunny. Go to their ballgames and concerts. Share whatever specific gifts you have been given, for, in sharing yourself with them, you will begin to love them and they most likely will begin to love you. That’s how you can get through tonight’s Christmas pageant. Love the children that are there even as your heart pines for the ones that aren’t.

Tonight is the night you sing of another woman’s pregnancy and another woman’s infant. Sing out loud and strong with confidence, for these songs are your own. The Child born of Mary is your child, the very One for whom you yearn. You may never have been pregnant – or the children of your pregnancies may be no more in your womb and no more in your arms – but Jesus is born for you. He is your Child, come to save you from your sin that you and your children might live forever in Him. His is the birth by which you will be “saved through childbearing” (1 Timothy 2:15).

Tonight is the night you go home to a childless house, and here, my sisters – in the silent, holy night – is your cross. Here is where the birth of Jesus matters most, in the horrible war against principalities and powers. Here is where you weep and gnash your teeth for the death that curses this blasted world. Here is where you repent and turn to Him who died for sinners.

So, cry out to the Child Jesus who died but lives again and remember in faith: in Him, you will live again, too.

17 And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last:
18 I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death (Revelation 1).

Christmas is merry in Jesus.

Love,

Katie

White Knights

knight There are some men, particularly protective brothers in Christ, who look at me with understanding in their eyes but say nothing. They simply act.

They put their baby in my arms before I can say no.

They walk into the kitchen at their child’s birthday party to silently check on me.

They hug me hard after church on Christmas Eve before I drive home to my own, childless house.

They hand me a gift bag of homemade candy on Mother’s Day.

They drive me to far-away presentations.

They stand at my side and put a comforting hand on my shoulder when IVF death statistics are read aloud at conferences.

They travel across state borders to attend a roundtable discussion on IVF and embryo adoption.

They buy a copy of He Remembers the Barren and read it.

They pray for me.

Truth be told, these men are princely, white knights to this barren damsel in distress, and I am so grateful. Thank you, silent men, for everything you do.

PCOS P.S.

Gina is someone I look up to in so many ways, not only because she is an extraordinary woman who bakes decadent, gluten-free desserts, but because she doesn’t hide from the crosses God has given her – and she encourages me to do the same:

PCOS is so hard to live with and deal with, not only because of the infertility but because all of it is the pits. At this point in my life, I can look back and see that my PCOS was/is a cross to bear that at times I threw on the ground and despised, but, as with all crosses, it continues to be bearable only through Christ and the love of Christian friends, my spouse, and family. From this perspective, I can tell you that I am in part shaped by the suffering of PCOS and, as with all suffering, God can use it for the good of both the sufferer and those around her; but I can only see that now that I am 47 and reconciled to my barrenness, and I still only glimpse this here and there.

A friend of mine and I were talking about the wounds and scars of life and we finally decided that we can’t hide them and we can’t repair them. We can only let them leak God’s mercy to others, that same mercy He showed us.

Navel-Gazing

Grief is different than self-pity, I think, though the line between them can get a bit hazy.

Grief happens, while self-pity is manifested.

Grief comes to a person, while self-pity comes from a person.

Grief is born out of suffering, while self-pity is born of our own sin.

Grief is endured, while self-pity is relished.

Grief moves us to call upon the LORD, while self-pity looks to our own navel for comfort.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus (Hebrews 12:2), dear sisters, not our navels.

Advice from a Criminal

Have you ever noticed that the criminal hanging on the cross next to Jesus doesn’t ask the Savior of the world to save him from the torture of the cross? He doesn’t ask Jesus to reduce his suffering. He doesn’t beg the Lord to relieve his own pain or to rescue him from the death that is before him.

He simply asks Jesus to remember him when He comes into His kingdom.

“We are receiving the due reward of our deeds,” the criminal says to the other crucified criminal who mocks Jesus, “but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then, he turns to Jesus in faith and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:27-43)

Pastor Schuermann explains it this way in a recent sermon:

As the thief on the next cross – himself seemingly hopeless – turns to Christ, hope makes a request: “Remember me. Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” There is hope.

This is how hope speaks. He asks for nothing but to be remembered by Jesus. He doesn’t ask to be saved from the cross, to be spared his suffering, to be granted a last-minute pardon, as the other [criminal] did. When death is unavoidable, hope embraces death and prays, “Jesus, remember me.” He who dies with these words on his lips, dies well.

We, the barren, have the same hope. We can embrace the cross of suffering and pray along with the criminal, “Jesus, remember me.”

And the good news is that He does.

And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Faith ‘n’ Family

Thank you to KFUO and Andy Bates for talking with me on the “Faith ‘n’ Family” program about barrenness as it relates to the Second Commandment.

You can listen to the program here.

Something That Is Better

Bo Giertz writes that when it comes to prayer, Jesus said “we should be persistent and not give up. We should compare ourselves with the man who, in the middle of the night needed to borrow some bread, and knocked on his neighbor’s door. God isn’t like the neighbor. He doesn’t mind being inconvenienced, but it’s a part of His fatherly way of rearing and teaching His children that He allows us to wait. Maybe He does it just so we learn to pray by being forced to think about what we pray for and being compelled to repeat what we have said in an effort to examine the contents. We have to be sure that what we pray for really comes from the heart. Then, we have God’s promise that He opens the door for us and that He hears us. We might not get just what we prayed for, but it will always be a good gift and just what we need most. Jesus doesn’t say that God gives us what we hoped for, but that He gives the Holy Spirit to those who pray to Him. He gives us the Holy Spirit when we pray persistently and faithfully and come to God with all our needs. The Spirit influences us and transforms us. Sometimes we stop praying about something because we understand that it wasn’t God’s will. Sometimes we discover that we’ve already received something that is better. Sometimes, as we pray, we see a completely different way of looking at what worried us. Or maybe God helps us in some other way–but He always helps us.” (To Live with Christ, 347-8)

More Advent Waiting

Advent is a season in the church year that is easily dismissed. It’s a time of waiting. We, in the church, also use these days before Christmas to prepare our hearts for the arrival of the Christ-child. Our sinful hearts, minds, and bodies need to be turned from our sinfulness and turned to God for His grace and mercy.

I don’t know why children haven’t been borne to me. After years of marriage, I’m ready to bear a child. I’ve prepared myself mentally and physically. Still no baby. In my self-pity I gripe to God for not giving me what I want, specifically the gift of a baby. After years of waiting and no specific diagnosis, that gift may never come come from my womb. What a hard, sad truth to accept.

And so I continue to wait. The Church reminds me to repent and turn from my sinfulness. My ways are not God’s ways. The Church reminds me that I wait for Jesus. So – does that mean that Christ’s arrival will make my body fruitful? No. The fruit of Mary’s womb is Jesus, and He makes me whole. I’ll not be whole in the physical sense here on earth. Rather, Jesus makes me whole through His death and resurrection. My body will always be sinful, thus, my body will not be perfect. However, God uses His means of grace to unite me with Jesus. He alone is perfect.

Being barren, I may never be finished waiting for a child. That longing may never go away. However, I no longer have to wait for Jesus to come. He came 2000 years ago and redeemed me. I wait, instead, for His triumphant return to take me to Himself in heaven.

O, Christmas Tree

Sometimes, decorating our home for “the most wonderful time of the year” feels a bit like putting on make-up with nowhere special to go.

What’s the point?

We have no child to delight in the colors and smells; no child to clap and cheer when the lights get plugged into the wall; no child to feel the toes of the stockings hanging from the third and fourth stocking holders we purchased years ago when first we “planned” for a family; no child to beg to light and extinguish the Advent candles every night; no child to wake up each morning and run to the Advent calendar to remove another window.

No child.

But, I have a husband, and he loves coming home to twinkling lights and cinnamon smells; I have a church full of selfless, hard-working elders and directors and administrators who might enjoy stepping through my door for a party or two; I have nieces and nephews and young family friends who might come over to share a cup of Advent cheer.

So, I unroll the lights and the garland and all that sparkles and shines. I pull out the spinning tree and the Advent wreath and the candles.

And I set out our nativity and ponder and rejoice, for I, the barren woman, have every reason to celebrate this holy season. My Hope and Comfort and Peace and Life and Salvation and Child is come to me.