Miscarriage

Well Said

A long time ago, we talked about this, and not too long ago we talked about this.

Diane Lamberson, a lovely licensed clinical social worker I met at the “Caring for the Barren” conference in Houston last weekend, said it this way during one of our sessions:

“The platitudes we offer to a person who is grieving are an attempt to alleviate our own anxiety when we are uncomfortable sitting with someone else’s pain.”

Aha!

The Great Getaway

Okay.

I know that many of you won’t come out for presentations on barrenness that are open to the public, because you don’t want other people to see you cry.

But what if those other people were just like you? What if you could get away for a few days and retreat to a safe place with other barren women* for a time of rest, refreshment, and fellowship in Christ?

We are thinking about hosting a retreat called “The Great Getaway” for you, but, before we do, we want to make sure you actually want to come. Are you interested? If so, send us a quick message through the Submit a Question page and let us know your name, email address, location, and whether or not you would be able to travel somewhere in the Midwest.

It’s time to come out of hiding, don’t you think?

* Maybe you suffer from barrenness or secondary infertility. Maybe you are struggling through the grief of a recent miscarriage. Maybe you are wrestling with the legal paperwork of an adoption or silently waiting for your foster child to bond with your family. Maybe you have lost your husband and wonder if you will ever have the chance to be a mother. If any of these situations apply to you (and you are a woman), then you are invited.

NaProTECHNOLOGY

Question Submitted: What do you think of NaProTECHNOLOGY?

My husband and I are actually trained in NaProTechnology. It was first presented to us ten years ago by our pro-life and Roman Catholic friends as an ethical alternative to the pill, and, in our self-acclaimed wisdom, we trained in it the summer before our wedding to ultimately avoid pregnancy in our marriage. For the next two years, I carefully charted and met with a nurse (year one) and a doctor (year two) for guidance and assessment. As you know, we were quite successful with the method.

We have since then used NPT to try to get pregnant, and it has not been so successful for us there. I was able, however, to point a few seminary friends suffering from PCOS to a local doctor trained in NPT, and some of them are mothers today.

My humble opinion: As an educational tool, I am not opposed to NPT. I learned a lot about my body that helps me cope with the ups and downs of barrenness today; however, you will notice that I do not publicly advocate for it. My main reason is that most people who ask me about NPT are not interested in using the method as healing medicine but as something very different.

My husband and I regret our decision to avoid pregnancy early in our marriage. Sometimes, I even regret knowing all the ins and outs of my cycle, hormones, etc. It is something I can never unlearn, and there are definitely days when I would rather forget all about it.

We Must Wait

From yesterday’s reading in the Treasury of Daily Prayer:

Christ is risen from the dead, has ascended to heaven, and sits at the right of God in divine power and honor. Nevertheless, He is hiding His greatness, glory, majesty, and power. He allows His prophets and apostles to be expelled and murdered…He allows His Christians to suffer want, trouble, and misfortune in the world. He acts as He did in the days of His flesh, when John the Baptist had to lose his head for the sake of a desperate harlot, while He, the Savior and Helper, said nothing about it, departed thence in a ship and withdrew to the solitude of the wilderness (Matt. 14:10ff, Mark 6:17, 32). Is He not a petty, childish God, who does not save Himself and allows His children to suffer as if He did not see how badly they were faring?…[I]f He sees and knows but cannot help, then He has no hands that are able to do anything, nor does He have power to enable Him to save.

Hence the prophet Isaiah correctly says of God: “Verily Thou art a God that hidest Thyself, O God of Israel, the Savior” (45:15)…Now He lets our adversaries treat His Word, Sacraments, and Christians as they please. He lets us call and cry and says nothing, as though He were deep in thought or were busy or were out in the field or asleep and heard nothing as Elijah says of Baal (I Kings 18:27)…

Meanwhile Christians, baptized in His name, must hold still, must permit people to walk over them and must have patience. For in the Kingdom of faith God wants to be small, but in the (future) kingdom of sight He will not be small but great. Then He will show that He saw the misery of His people and heard their crying and had a will inclined to help them, also power to help them…For this appearance of the glory of the great God we must wait.

Martin Luther

“Oh, Thou of Little Faith”

Question Submitted: I have been with my husband for 10 years now. To be honest we never used any type of sexual protection. I’ve been pregnant one time, very shortly, maybe for two weeks, and then I had a miscarriage. In 2009, and every year after, I have received prophetic words all from individuals who do not know that I was diagnosed with endometriosis, ovarian cysts, and an anteverted uterus. By faith I believe and speak that I am blessed through Christ Jesus. Therefore, I say I no longer have those diagnoses. Now, all have said the same thing, “The Lord is going to bless you and your husband with a child.” I believe it, have fasted and prayed and sought on the Lord concerning this. And, to God be the glory, He has given us revelation on the details of His will. He revealed that we are having a little girl and has even gave us a name. I have even seen what she will look like. Therefore, what is the issue?

What do you do when you get discouraged?

Growing up I didn’t desire to be a wife or mother, and then suddenly in 2008 the desire came along with all of the negative doctor reports. I know the desire to be a wife and mother is pleasing to my Lord and is from God, because, like never before, I have this wonderful & overwhelming desire to be a mother and to raise our children in holiness. Yet, discouragement creeps in, and this past week it came on hard. Insert a scene in which my husband is standing with a look of sheer helplessness as I stood in front of him crying, heaving, snot-nosed, shaking, emotional, with incomprehensible words spilling from my mouth. The only audible thing he heard was, “No one knows that even while I am up there leading praise and worship, I just want to cry, fall to my knees and cry, yet I don’t because I know my position requires me to minister to another at that moment…but it…(crying)…hurts…(crying)…sooo…oooh..oh.ooh(crying) bad…”

It was (to say the least) a moment that I know many who are waiting on the Lord to bless them have experienced from time to time. Yet sadly, I felt bad and called myself pathetic for not having faith and for allowing emotions to get the best of me. God had given me my visions of His will, therefore I should not be discouraged, right?

“oh thou of little faith..”

I said all this to ask: What do you do when you have done all that you know to do and are at a point where you feel so helpless that you are in a state of despair and close to giving up on the hope of having a child? I know that God is able and will bless, but how do you overcome the moments of impatience?

My dear sister in Christ, you are not of little faith. You are simply tired and worn out from bearing the weight of your cross of barrenness. It is exhausting to want something you haven’t been given, and it is even more taxing to put your trust in prophecies that have not yet come true. You are weary, my sister, not faithless.

Perhaps, some of your weariness comes from the task of discerning whether or not those prophecies and visions came from man or from God or from both? Perhaps your doubt is not in God but in whether or not the promise of motherhood is really from Him? I am not in a position to confirm whether or not those prophecies and visions concerning your own family life came from God, but I can tell you with assurance that God is not the only one who makes such prophecies and gives such visions. The devil, false prophets, and our sinful flesh are also eager to chime in with their own voices when it comes to the things we hear with our ears, see with our eyes, and feel in our hearts.

So, in what can we put our trust? We can put our trust and faith in the Word of God in Holy Scripture. That is the one, safe place where we can be certain that it is God’s voice we are hearing, not the devil’s. It is in His Word that God has most definitely revealed His will to you and your husband regarding what He has planned for your life, and you can put your faith in that even unto eternal life.

Here is the hard truth that comes from God’s Word: 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 in His Word, 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).

You have asked me the question, what do I do when I have done all that I know to do and am at a point where I feel so helpless that I am in a state of despair and close to giving up on the hope of a child? I CRY, all snot-nosed and heaving like you described above, trusting in God’s promise to wipe away every tear on the last day; I CEASE putting my hope in things which God has not promised to me in His Word; I CLING in faith to the promises God has given me in His Word, namely, His promises to love me, save me, and never leave nor forsake me; I WAIT on Him in prayer, trusting that whatever He brings my way is for my eternal good; I SEEK first His kingdom and His righteousness, believing that God’s grace is sufficient for even childless, barren, little me; and, I REST in the knowledge that God loves me and cares for me in Jesus, even when I fail to do the things I just listed.

You are loved by God in Jesus, dear sister, just as you are, with or without a child. We don’t always get the things we want in this life, but we do get the things we need. God promises that for us in His Word, and you can trust that promise to come true.

Dr. Tactless

Some people say the wrong thing. Some people ask nosy questions. Some people say the wrong thing, ask nosy questions and make unhelpful predictions about the future. These are people you should avoid at all costs. This week I had no choice but to confront someone who has a reputation for not knowing the meaning of tact. Our regular medical practitioner was unavailable for our checkup, so we had the misfortune of seeing that guy. Here’s how the conversation played out. Keep in mind, the checkup was for the child, not me:

Dr. Tactless: Now, this one’s adopted?

Me: Yes.

Dr. Tactless: And you have another one who’s adopted, too, right?

Me: Yes, he’s eight now.

Dr. Tactless: So…is that something you planned to do, or was there something wrong?

Me: Well…I’ve only been pregnant once, and then I had a miscarriage.

Dr. Tactless: I see. So something is wrong with your system.

Me: We…uh…don’t know for sure. I’ve had some issues with endometriosis in the past but feel pretty healthy now.

Dr. Tactless: And your husband’s sperm count is normal?

Me: Ummm…he, uh,…he seems to be healthy, too.

Dr. Tactless: Hmmm…now how old are you again?

Me: Thirty-six.

Dr. Tactless: Oh, well, you know you could get a surprise later on.

Me: We would be open to surprises.

Dr. Tactless: You know, there’s nothing like the ink drying on adoption paperwork to make for a good fertility treatment (sly, know-it-all half-smile creeping up his face as he nods slowly). Well, the baby looks good. Come back in a month.

Sheesh. I couldn’t get out of that office fast enough.

Don’t you ever wish you could turn the tables, just for once, to show the other person what it feels like? If I could do this conversation all over again, this is how it would be:

Me: So, I don’t see a ring on your finger. Not married?

Dr. Tactless: No, I’m single.

Me: So…was that by choice, or is there something wrong with you?

Dr. Tactless: Uh…no, I was dating a women recently but she left the relationship. I would still like to get married someday.

Me: Hmmm…so something is wrong with you.

Dr. Tactless: I, uh, don’t know about that, exactly.

Me: Now, do you use deodorant and mouthwash regularly? That’s important, you know.

Dr. Tactless: Well, I think I smell OK.

Me: So now, how old are you again?

Dr. Tactless: I’m forty-nine.

Me: I see…You know, there’s this bar at the corner of ___ and____ where a lot of older, desperate women hang out on Friday nights. There’s nothing like a little desperation to get a relationship going (wink, wink). You should try that place. You just might get lucky.

At Least

There are two words a barren woman loathes to hear:

“At least you don’t have children and can do whatever you want.”

“At least you don’t have to pay for babysitting.”

“At least you’re young and have lots of time to have children.”

“At least you have one child. That’s better than nothing.”

“At least you won’t have to wait long to adopt. I mean, who wouldn’t want you to parent their child?”

“At least now you know you can get pregnant.” (after losing a child through miscarriage)

These two, little words do the opposite of what you expect. They sting rather than soothe. They set up a natural comparison between God’s divinely distributed gifts which more often than naught leads the listener to covet rather than to be content. Even when these two words are offered with the best of intentions, they still man-handle the listener into seeing the world from the speaker’s perspective, and no one feels comforted after being face locked, gorilla pressed, and clover leafed.

All in favor of scrapping this phrase from interpersonal communications, raise your hand?

You’re So Lucky!

Another honest, empathic moment from our dear Joanna…

I wrote this a few years ago when a long-time friend and mother told me how lucky I was not to have any children. A product of the anguish of the moment, it came out like I was vomiting it onto the paper. It’s strange; when I read this now, I know that’s what I was feeling at the time, but I don’t find myself reliving those feelings. You would think that rereading it would open it all up again, but, at least today, it doesn’t. It’s strange how that works. I guess it’s kind of like my hysterectomy scar. The surgery happened, the scar is there, but the remembrance of the pain and the jaggedness of the scar have faded. Jesus has walked with me through it to the other side.
 
How Lucky I Am
 
“You’re so lucky!
You have free time
To go wherever you want,
And do whatever you want,
And you never have to clean up after kids!
I wish I were in your shoes!”
 
“You never get awakened in the middle of the night by a screaming child,
And you never spend time chasing toddlers,
Or changing diapers,
Or dealing with teenagers.
You have no idea how lucky you are!”
 
Maybe you’re right…I guess I’ve never thought about how lucky I am.
 
How lucky for me never to have felt life growing inside,
Or given birth,
Or chosen a name,
Or to hear “I love you, Mommy” from the lips of a child.
 
How lucky I am to have prayed each month for a miracle,
Only to have endless cycles come and go,
And hope forever deferred.
 
I’m lucky to have been poked and prodded,
To have had my private life put under a microscope.
And to endure endless expensive tests and surgeries,
In the hopes of a joy that never was.
 
How lucky I am to be told once and again to “Relax” or “Adopt,”
Or try this or that remedy;
And to be gracious to the people telling me,
Because, “People are just trying to help.”
 
How lucky I am to have had my only child die,
Its tiny life slipping away.
Knowing that I would give anything to stop it
But couldn’t.
 
I’m lucky to have never seen my husband’s kind eyes
Reflected in the eyes of our child,
To have never given him the child
That he, too, longed for and wanted to hold;
Or my dear parents the grandchild
That they secretly longed to see.
 
How lucky I am to walk through this life
Alone among women.
Never really fitting in.
First with the mothers, then the grandmothers —
Forever standing on the outside…looking in.
 
I’m lucky to have no children to nurture,
To teach all the things that I’ve learned,
Or to joyfully watch as they grow.
Learning a little bit more about life,
By seeing the world anew through their eyes.
 
How lucky it is that the days never change,
They go endlessly on the same 
Each day until death.
No first steps, graduations, weddings, or grandchildren
Will ever fill my empty days.
 
I’m lucky to face all the questions,
Like, “Why did this happen?”
And “Will it ever be our turn?”
And “Was it something we did?”
…Or maybe something we didn’t do.
Oh, and “How long, and how much, and how hard should we try?”
“And what about adoption?”
These are lucky questions, indeed.
 
How lucky I am to watch the years roll by never changing,
Endlessly the same.
And to watch others taking for granted
The joys that I longed to know.
 
How lucky I am to face old age on this earth,
With only my husband, should God allow us long life;
And to wonder who God will send to care for us,
If something happens to one — 
Or when we simply can no longer care for ourselves.
 
How lucky I am to have no one to remember who I was or how I lived
When I have passed from this earth.
To know that my possessions will be auctioned away to strangers,
And there will be no obituary to tell of my life — 
Because obituaries are written by the children.
 
You’re so right…I am lucky —
If that’s what you mean by “luck.”
I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.
But I don’t think that’s what you’d want.
 
Through all of this pain, God’s love has never failed,
And I rest in His loving hands.
But every once in awhile I get tired
Of parents glibly telling me
Just how lucky I am.
 

What do I say this Mother’s Day?

Question Submitted: My friend and her husband were pregnant with their first child this year, but she miscarried.  I would like to know how to approach Mother’s Day for her.  I want to acknowledge the child that God created in her, but I also want to offer her sympathy in her loss. What words of encouragement would you suggest?

First, thank you for loving your friend enough to recognize that this may be a difficult day for her and for wanting to be there for her. She will treasure your thoughtfulness no matter what you say. I’m not terribly verbose myself, so I prefer the straightforward approach. What you wrote in your question was very sincere and completely appropriate. What if you said something like, “I know today may be tough for you. I’ve been thinking of you and how, even though it was for such a short time, God chose to make you a mother this past year. I’m sorry it was so brief. I just wanted you to know how much I care about you and pray for you, especially today. Can I (take you out for some dessert, come over for some tea, fill in the blank) to commemorate today?”

Maybe you were looking for something more encouraging or Scriptural, I don’t know. But speaking from personal experience, when people have come up to me to express sympathy and they give me a speech telling me things I already know, sharing with me some intellectual or spiritual knowledge, I don’t necessarily feel encouraged. I have the head knowledge, it’s just my heart that’s aching. When someone acknowledges the pain I’m in and tries to put themselves in my shoes in order to best reach out to me, followed by a kind action (or at least an offer) I see a sincere concern and I am comforted. I don’t feel alone then. This is, of course, assuming that your friend is regularly hearing God’s promises to her each week in church. If not, then it is absolutely appropriate to include these in your talk with her.

I’m sure that whatever you say she will be grateful.