I KNOW that my life may be a cross of barrenness. It is still difficult for me to ACCEPT my barrenness and then live under the cross of Jesus.
I KNOW that God has given me His good gifts. It is quite another for me to ACCEPT those gifts without giving credit to myself.
Dear God, You know what is best for me. Help me to trust and accept Your good will for my life. Amen.
Question Submitted: How long does one wait? Every month brings disappointment. Then the thought, maybe next month will be the one. How do you decide to take the plunge and go see your doctor? I have three children. I am ashamed to be asking. I feel like I shouldn’t be so disappointed, but yet, it is like someone is missing from our family. My youngest is over 3 and a half. I saw my doctor a year ago and she thought I was under a lot of stress from moving and hadn’t been consistently “trying” long enough. They did basic blood work and some ultrasounds. Nothing was wrong. She mentioned the word endometriosis, but said the only way to know would be invasive procedure. But, now, I’ve given it that year of documented trying and expensive ovulation and pregnancy tests. I know I ought to be content. But, who is there to share my sorrow with? It is indescribable and I feel selfish and ungrateful. I have not miscarried. I am not barren. I love my kids. I ought to be thankful, and I am…but not enough. I cringe when people now talk to me assuming that I am “done” with having children, as if it is a decision I made. To some in the world they think it is good. Others look at me with their 5 or 6 children and continuous talk about having a quiverfull, and think that I must be “worldly.” I am guilty of having said I “want as many as the Lord gives me,” and yet it is not true. Why is it so hard to accept if I have no more? And when is it not wrong to seek medical help? The doctor said to come back after 6 months, but I haven’t been able to do it yet. I keep hoping maybe next month. Trust the Lord.
My dear sister in Christ, it is so hard to accept the number of children you have now, because children are a blessing from God; and whenever we are not given that blessing, we see all too clearly the Sin which leaves the world and our wombs broken. We know that God created the one-flesh union in marriage to be fruitful, and it hurts and is terrifying whenever our marriage ceases to bear such blessed fruit.
As if our own pain and fear are not enough, Satan and his minions taunt and tease our consciences, trying to make us believe our childlessness is God’s punishment for that Sin. They want nothing more than for us to doubt God’s goodness and mercy toward sinners, toward us. They want us to believe that Christ’s sacrifice was not enough for us, that our childlessness is a needed penance for full atonement. They want us to believe in our own works for salvation, not in the all-saving work of Christ on the cross.
Lord, have mercy and deliver us from doubt and unbelief!
Here is the truth found in God’s Word: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus…For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” (Romans 8:1, 22-24 [ESV]) We know with assurance that the fruit of our womb is no reflection of our relationship with God in Christ Jesus. It is simply a manifestation of the world’s brokenness as it waits for the Resurrection Day.
You ask me how to decide to take the plunge and go see a doctor? Talk to your husband, your pastor, your trusted loved ones and ask yourself this question: Why do you want to see a doctor? Do you seek relief from an ailment which causes your health to suffer? Do you seek an answer to the puzzle that is your fertility? Do you desire closure after months, even years, of trying to get pregnant? I believe these are all healthy motivations for seeking medical attention, because they simply seek a conclusion and physical relief. These motivations do not require a certain outcome of God, confusing the line between Creator and creation. These motivations keep you in a position to receive gifts from God, whatever those gifts may be.
Remember that it is not wrong to seek medical help for infertility. Healing medicine is part of the daily bread God provides for us, and it is good and right to try to make the body whole. We are free in Christ to undergo diagnostic tests, receive treatments, have surgeries, take medications, and receive help from a doctor for the healing purposes of our flesh. We just need to remember that our freedom in Christ is intended by God to serve our neighbor, not ourselves, so be discerning. There are some forms of infertility medicine that cease to be healing medicine because they potentially hurt or harm our neighbor (our husband and the very children we want to conceive) and thereby break the Fifth Commandment of our Lord. Also, guard yourself against the temptation to serve your own desire for a child when it means trusting the words of your doctor over the Word of God. We break the First Commandment of our Lord when we dethrone Him, the True Creator, in our hearts and replace Him with a make-shift god constructed of our own wishes and desires.
My personal advice? You’ve been waiting a long time, and your heart is aching with the unknown. Go. See your doctor. Find out what you in good conscience can, and be at peace, trusting that God is working everything for your good. And know that you are not alone in the body of Christ, sister.
Now, a quick word to that body of Christ:
We are so cruel to each other in the church. The woman with too many children is judged by others to be an unconscionable rabbit, the woman with too few children gets labeled a personification of the Enlightenment, and the woman with no children is hailed as a contracepting Machiavel.
No doubt, there are women in all three of these categories whose number of children is self-determined by an obedience to some damning, worldly Law, but let’s be good Lutherans and put the best construction on everything. Let’s look at the number of children a woman has been given and rejoice at God’s goodness to her in both His blessing and His withholding. Let’s not judge each other behind hands in whispered gossip but, instead, encourage each other openly by proclaiming the truth in love: God in His wisdom and mercy both gives and doesn’t give the gift of children. Praise be to God!
Have you yet to receive a “yes” to your prayer for a child? Does it feel like God leaves your prayer unanswered?
Our Sunday school class has been studying prayer. This past Sunday, Pastor Schuermann drew our attention to this quote from Dr. Martin Luther on the problem of unanswered prayer:
It is not a bad sign, but a very good one, if things seem to turn out contrary to our requests. Just as it is not a good sign if everything turns out favorably for our requests.
The reason is that the excellence of God’s counsel and will are far above our counsel and will, as Isaiah 55:8-9 says:”For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” And Psalm 94:11: “The Lord knows the thoughts of men, that they are vain.” And Psalm 33:10: “The Lord brings the counsels of the nations to nought; He frustrates the plans of the peoples and casts away the counsels of princes.” Hence it results that when we pray to God for something, whatever these things may be, and He hears our prayers and begins to give us what we wish, He gives in such a way that He contravenes all of our conceptions, that is, our ideas, so that He may seem to us to be more offended after our prayers and to do less after we have asked than He did before. And He does all this because it is the nature of God first to destroy and tear down whatever is in us before He gives us His good things, as the Scripture says: “The Lord makes poor and makes rich, He brings down to hell and raises up” (1 Samuel 2:7).
By this His most blessed counsel He renders us capable of receiving His gifts and His works. And we are capable of receiving His works and His counsels only when our own counsels have ceased and our works have stopped and we are made purely passive before God, both with regard to our inner as well as our outward activities. This is what He means when He says: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways” (Isaiah 55:8). Therefore, when everything is hopeless for us and all things begin to go against our prayers and desires, then those unutterable groans begin. And then “the Spirit helps us in our weakness” (Romans 8:26). For unless the Spirit were helping, it would be impossible for us to bear this action of God by which He hears us and accomplishes what we pray for. Then the soul is told: “Be strong, wait for the Lord, and let your heart take courage and bear up under God” (Psalm 27:14). And again: “Be subject to the Lord and pray to Him” “and He will act” (Psalm 37:7, 5). (Luther on Romans 8:26, AE 25:364-5)
Sin – all Sin, Adam and Eve’s, yours and mine – leaves our world broken, laboring in pain for the resurrection when all things will be made new. Sin leaves even our children broken, and so we miscarry.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.
Hear from a grieving mother, your sister in Christ:
Have you ever tried to catch a snowflake, anxious to see its intricacies, only to find that it has melted before your eyes even had a chance to focus? Have you ever seen a flash in the sky and turned around just as the last sparkles of a shooting star vanish, only to realize you missed the show? But then there are other times when you’re walking out of a store, late in the evening, tired from the days events, when suddenly the whole sky lights up right in front of you, right over your head, and the shooting star seems so close you could reach up and touch it…and no one else even gets to see it. It’s like it was only for you, and you didn’t even ask for it.
When I think of the baby that just died in my belly before I was even big enough to change into maternity clothes, I don’t think of the melting snowflake…I think of the shooting star that lit up the sky right in front of my face. I did not deserve Anastasia. My sin and status as a fallen creature is so interwoven into my being that its claws reach not only into my own life…but into the flesh of my children. It is evident in Anastasia’s death. It was not just my sin, but our sin. We all share in the sin that leaves us broken, weeping, alone, sick, and sometimes…in despair. We all share in death because we all share in sin, in our sin.
But there’s something else we all share in…our Savior. Anastasia was bathed in the blood of Christ. Her little ears were covered in God’s Word. And her home, for twelve weeks, was the body of one Baptized into Christ and made a temple of the Holy Spirit by God’s gift of Holy Baptism.
The doctors offered to let me have a D&C the day we found out Anastasia had died. But I couldn’t go. I was so overcome with my sin, with it’s effects, that I needed to grieve and confess. I have never wept so hard or long. Then I called a dear sister in Christ and, when she answered, I burst into tears telling her I didn’t even know why I was calling. We wept together.
And in Anastasia’s death, in my sin, I felt dead with her. But Jesus, He was dead too. Not half dead, not a little bit dead, He was dead. He was dead in our trespasses and sins. Have you ever thought about and wondered what those three days must have been like for His followers? God was dead. They were alone. And to add salt to the wound, they had to carry on in the work and physical labor of burial while grieving. And yet they were still alive. God’s power was enough to sustain His creation even when He was dead.
I carried Anastasia for twelve weeks. And then I carried her, dead, for ten days. One of those days was Ash Wednesday. I will never forget carrying her to the front of the church to receive ashes on my forehead. Presenting my other children for ashes felt like I was handing them over to death as well. Knowing that I infected them with the same sin that poured out death on my sixth child was unbearable. We were all being marked with death…but, it was death in the shape of life, even while I carried death inside of me.
And then I went into labor. I labored for five hours at home. I’ve given birth four times at home to our living children and the pain was no less in duration or strength to birth one so small. When she came I scooped her up and I held my snowflake. Twelve weeks with ten fingers and ten toes, two tiny ears and her mouth open just far enough that I could see her tongue and gums. She is God’s tiny miracle, put right into my hands for me to behold. She might be gone now, as quickly as a shooting star, but she was there, she was mine, and I am overcome with God’s mercy, goodness, and love for us sinners before we yet knew Him. The Lord is merciful. He forgives all. And because we are adopted by His grace, we and our children are adopted into LIFE. Death is not the end of Anastasia’s story, or of my or your stories. Easter is coming. Come soon, Lord Jesus.
Melanie Sorenson
When with sorrow I am stricken,
Hope anew my heart will quicken;
All my longing shall be stilled.
To His lovingkindness tender
Soul and body I surrender,
For on God alone I build.
Well He knows what best to grant me;
All the longing hopes that haunt me,
Joy and sorrow, have their day.
I shall doubt His wisdom never;
As God wills, so be it ever;
I commit to Him my way.
If my days on earth He lengthen,
God my weary soul will strengthen;
All my trust in Him I place.
Earthly wealth is not abiding,
Like a stream away is gliding;
Safe I anchor in His grace.
“All Depends on Our Possessing,” Lutheran Service Book, 732 s.4-6
Question Submitted: I’ve noticed that several of your hosts have adopted children this year. Does it hurt that you are the only HRTB host not to have been given the gift of a child?
Don’t gasp, readers. This is not an audacious question. It is an honest one, and, frankly, I get asked it quite often. So, here is my honest answer:
First, from this website’s conception, my goal was never to have only childless hosts. In fact, if you have ever referred to the host page of this site, you already know that Rebecca, Kristi, Melissa, and Sandra have been mothers for years, whether through the gift of conception or adoption. I invited these sage women to cohost this site with me, because I am terribly aware of my own shortcomings. I am not an authority on every topic we cover on this site, and I rely heavily on their experience, wisdom, prudence, and compassion in responding to such issues as miscarriage, secondary infertility, adoption, and other concerns that touch upon the subject of barrenness.
Now, in response to the hurting portion of your question:
It does not hurt that I am the only HRTB host not to have children; it hurts that I don’t have children, period.
Yet.
It is remarkably easy to rejoice with my fellow hosts in the gifts they have been given this year, because I, too, have been given special gifts from God. I have been given the gift of knowledge from God’s Word that children are His gift to give and that He is wise in His giving; I have been given the gift of faith which trusts in the goodness of God’s giving and His not giving; I have been given the gift of fellowship in the Body of Christ, and I get to participate in the joy of my mother-sisters; I have been given the gift of assurance that my own prayers and sorrows are made known to my Father in heaven, because I have a Mediator who always intercedes on my behalf at God’s right hand; I have been given the gift of a Comforter who, through Word and Sacrament, grants me peace that surpasses all understanding; and, last but not least, I have been given a special vocation in the lives of my fellow HRTB hosts: First Officer of the Starship Motherhood.
What, exactly, does the First Officer do?
The First Officer receives stunned, amazed, blessed, joyous, play-by-play texts when Baby Mayes arrives.
The First Officer gets to share meals with Baby DeGroot and Big Boy Ostapowich.
The First Officer gets the privilege of being one of the first people to receive updates and pictures of Baby Leckband in China so that she can post said updates and pictures to Mama Leckband’s website for her while international internet access is limited.
Most importantly, the First Officer receives tender empathy at all times, even from across an ocean in the middle of a sleepless night just after Baby Leckband has been put into the arms of her family for the first time:
“I know there is joy and pain for you personally on this day. Know this, dear sister, you are loved for who you are TODAY. Your worth is found in the shadow of the One who has borne all of our suffering. His gifts are yours each and every day, despite your earthly pains and sorrows. You. Are. Loved!”
Does it hurt? Not as much as it could, thanks to the compassionate generosity of my fellow hosts who never leave me out but put me right in the middle of the celebration.
I am one blessed, barren woman.
Salute,
First Officer Schuermann
We have reason to rejoice today! Would you please pray for Kristi and her family of four?
“But where there is to be a true prayer, there must be seriousness. People must feel their distress, and such distress presses them and compels them to call and cry out. Then prayer will be made willingly, as it ought to be. People will need no teaching about how to prepare for it and to reach the proper devotion. But the distress that ought to concern most (both for ourselves and everyone), you will find abundantly set forth in the Lord’s Prayer. Therefore, this prayer also serves as a reminder, so that we meditate on it and lay it to heart and do not fail to pray. For we all have enough things that we lack. The great problem is that we do not feel or recognize this. Therefore, God also requires that you weep and ask for such needs and wants, not because He does not know about them [Matthew 6:8], but so that you may kindle your heart to stronger and greater desires and make wide and open your cloak to receive much [Psalm 10:17].” Martin Luther, The Large Catechism, III: 26-27.*
* Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions (ed. Paul Timothy McCain; St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 2005), 411.
I know one of the reasons you won’t confide in people about your barrenness. There are those who insist on fixing you. You know, the people who slip you a piece of paper with the name of a health book they think will cure your barrenness, or the people who tell you to relax or – my personal favorite – start the adoption process in order to get pregnant.
But not everyone wants to fix you. Some people just want to care for you. Leah Houghton, a mother and part-time social worker, is one of those people, and she has something she wants to say to you:
The journey to parenthood has certainly been very trying for my family. Just of few of these trials include a partial-miscarriage of my first pregnancy where I miscarried one of the twins with which I was pregnant. During a standard sonogram, our second child was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate. We were told by doctors that he would be blind, deaf, and mentally delayed. We were also told he would have heart and lung problems and would be “grossly disfigured.” We would have to wait until his delivery to discover that none of these things were true about our son. Yet, we still faced (and are still facing) numerous surgeries, doctor’s visits, clinic appointments, speech therapy evaluations, etc.
Just a little over a year after our son’s diagnosis, we experienced the miscarriage of our third pregnancy. I have also experienced moderate postpartum depression after the birth of my second child. Then, after I stopped nursing my daughter, I began experiencing severe anxiety and panic attacks (related to hormonal changes) that nearly incapacitated me for months. However, throughout all of these trials, the Lord has provided our daily bread and given us such grace and comfort. All these gifts truly surpass our understanding.
Sisters, I know from the outside that the woman who has a handful of young and energetic children may seem like the last person on earth to be able to provide you with any comfort when you are struggling with barrenness, and it is true that I cannot imagine the grief that an empty womb and an empty home must be. Yet, I encourage you to please tell your sisters in Christ your struggles. Let us care for you. Let us be a quiet ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and a comforting hand to hold. No, I don’t know what it is like to walk by empty nurseries that have been prayed over night after night with hopes that God would choose to fill that nursery in some way. No, I don’t know what it is like to have empty arms that so long to hold a child near. But, I do know what it is like to carry a child when you don’t know if you will ever get to bring that child home from the hospital; I know what it is like to grieve the loss of a child that you will never see on this earth; and I also know the strength and peace that can come from waiting on the Lord. And, sisters, I want to encourage you and carry that burden with you in prayer and love.
Please let us care for you! Let us pray with and for each other and bear with one another in love!
Leah Houghton
A barren friend recently confided to me, “I broke down crying the other day. I don’t really know why. I mean, I thought I would be over this by now.”
I don’t think we ever get over this barrenness thing, because no matter how comfortable we become, no matter how content we grow in our childlessness, it is still not the way things are supposed to be. God commanded us via Adam and Eve in the garden to be fruitful and multiply, and we know that it is God’s good will for us to have the blessing of children in marriage.
Yet, we don’t.
Our barren wombs are a reminder, a manifestation even, of the brokenness of this Sin-sick world, and, even though we are blessed and fruitful beyond measure today in Christ, the wrongness of our childless marriage still stings. And so we grieve.
Rev. Gregory Schulz describes it this way in The Problem of Suffering: A Father’s Hope:
[G]rief is love. This means that grief is a kind of care…Grief as care is an obsession, an attention – not to “mortality” or to “the human condition” – but to a person who is at the same time dearly loved and agonizingly absent. (Schulz, 102-3)
We cry, because our dearly loved children are agonizingly absent.
He Remembers the Barren 