Suffering

Barrenness through Mom’s Eyes

My mom Laurie Schepmann is a caring soul, and it is my fervent prayer that my life might emulate her grace and love.  She has never wavered in her love for me as I have journeyed from a little girl into a grown woman and am now dealing with the cross of barrenness.  Below is a letter that Mom wrote.  I share it with you as a reminder that you are loved as a daughter, whether or not you are a parent.

Dear Kristi,

I do want to say once again that your value or worth or whatever you want to call it has never diminished in our eyes because of your barrenness.  The same goes for our love for you.  Such a thing would never enter our minds.  You are our daughter, and nothing can change our love for you or the bonds that tie us to each other.

I do appreciate how difficult a thing it must be to share something like barrenness when one views it as a humiliation or degradation of oneself.  I, however, have never felt that it lessened a person, or more specifically YOU…but, then again, I have not “walked in your shoes.”  I understand that there are people who can make you feel that way, though, and the only thing I know is to forgive them for their lack of understanding, pray for them, and move on.

Those who are barren are not lessened in my mind one iota.  It is just another one of those things over which one has no control.  As always, we support each other whenever we can and whenever we finally REALIZE that there is a need.  So often, we are not there for others because we have no idea what goes on in their hearts and minds.  Thanks be to God that there is forgiveness for us and that He promises to be with us and help us in all of our needs, though!

It has always been my belief that you handled it very well.  Little did I know, though, of the turmoil and pain you endured in private.  Because of our desire not to snoop, but rather to wait for you to share any news, if and when you chose to, we said very little.  If you interpreted that as not caring, I apologize and feel sorry about it.

We are looking forward to the time when you can bring your adopted child home!  Whoever he, or she, may be, we know this child will find welcoming hearts and laps and hugs in our family.  My prayers for that child, as you know, have continued from the first time you told us that you were applying for a child!  (In anticipation of his/her joining us soon, we’ve already bought him/her a Christmas stocking.)  May our loving Heavenly Father, Who knows all of our needs, bring that child to us soon and in accord with His divine wisdom and will; for, He surely knows and loves us more than anyone else.  We know that special love through His Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ!

Thank you for opening up and sharing with us and with others, who are traveling that same, painful road.  May God bless you for your courage and help many others through you.  God works all things for good to those who love Him.

Love,
Mom


A Dad’s Love for His Little Girl

Pastor Roger Schepmann is my dad, and he has graciously given me permission to share his thoughts surrounding my barrenness.  Dad has always been a stronghold for our family and has always loved me unconditionally.  I am blessed to be “Daddy’s little girl.”

As a father, I like to have everything go smoothly for my children.  When they were little, I’d tell them to bring whatever it was that needed fixing, so I could fix it, and they would be happy.  Example:  the child has fallen and his/her knee hurts.  Well, I’d kiss it to make it better.  Or, if some toy needed some minor repair, they could bring it to me, and I’d do my best to fix it.  Now, I’m not a “Mr. Fix-It,” but I’d do my best.

When it comes to barrenness, as a father, I still think it is something I should fix.  I want to fix it somehow so my daughter can have all the children she has ever wanted.  But it is something I cannot fix.  I’d like to fix it, but I can’t.  That’s why I simply put the entire matter into the hand of God.  He knows what to do or not to do.  He has it all figured out already.  And I have to realize that He can do the impossible.  That doesn’t mean He must, but He has the capacity to do what might be deemed as “impossible.”  So, I commend my daughter and her husband into the hand of God for I know God will work good through this very difficult matter.

Do I think less of my daughter for being barren?  Not at all.  She is who she is:  a child of God, made God’s own in Baptism, kept God’s own through the Spirit’s working in Word and Sacrament.  She is not any less a child of God because she is unable to conceive a child.  She is still “Daddy’s little girl” and will remain such.  I have always been very proud of her.  That has not changed.  Barrenness does not define who she is.  It is a cross she bears, but not one she bears alone.  As a father, I am here to listen, to pray, and to give her the support she needs.  I don’t always do a good job of all of that, but with God’s help, I will do better in the weeks and months ahead of us.

“God is our Refuge and Strength, an ever-present Help in trouble.” Ps. 46:1


Christian Man-to-Man Advice about Dealing with Barrenness

Thank you, Rev. Dr. Benjamin T. G. Mayes (husband of Rebecca), for generously responding to the following question recently submitted.

Question Submitted: Any ideas for barren husbands? This may be harder on me than on my wife. We’re a happy family of 2, but I have rough days missing children we won’t have.

Brother, here are some random thoughts to give an answer to your question. My sense is that men have totally different feelings about barrenness and lack of children. Most men are probably able to compartmentalize the disappointment that they feel when they realize that their family might not include any little ones. We probably are not all the same. As for me, there were times when I did not feel the desire for children. Of course, that’s when I thought it would be easy to have them! We always seem to want what we don’t have, isn’t that true?

I have one son, who is definitely not a baby any more. He has been a major blessing to me and Rebecca, so I’m afraid I’m not in your exact situation. But now, I, too, wish to have another child of my own, and who knows if and when that will happen?

I don’t think anything can take the place of having your own child, just like nothing can take the place of having your own wife. God gives different gifts to different people, but those gifts are unique and not interchangeable. The woman with five kids might be tempted to see those kids as a burden. For us, we feel the lack of children as a burden. We feel that we lack little ones on which to shower our love. I don’t think anything can take the place of those kids. So that is the one major caveat I have to give here. The following tips may not fill the hole in your life and family that you are feeling. But they might help, and they will certainly be good reminders of the truths you probably already know.

1. Katie and her team here have amassed a treasure trove of Gospel comfort for barren families, including you.

2. As I’m sure you know, our primary identity and joy (we must remind ourselves!) should come from belonging to God’s family, having God as our true Father, the church as our true mother (cf. Matt. 12:50; Gal. 4:26), and other Christians as our brothers and sisters. If you are a pastor, you also have children in the faith through your preaching, teaching, and baptizing (1 Cor. 4:15).

3. On a practical level, obviously pursue adoption if you’re able.

4. Since you don’t have kids, you may as well save up some money and splurge on doing some special things with your wife, like traveling or investing in some of the hobbies you both enjoy. I would personally suggest checking out beautiful art and architecture in Germany and Italy! Then, of course, you might also be able to afford being generous to others.

5. I’d recommend becoming a mentor for boys or young men in your area. Many boys have no father figures and really need one. I’ve had the opportunity to become involved in the life of a young man, my godson, who was baptized at our church when he was 8 (now he’s a teenager). He was adopted by his great-grandmother and had no father figure to look up to. So he comes to our house every Saturday night, and we have what you might call a family night, so that he can see how a man should treat his wife, so that we can play games together, and also have time to talk about questions that he wouldn’t feel comfortable asking grandma. It’s been a great experience for me, and for him, too. Maybe for you, spending time with the church’s youth group would allow you to show the love of Christ to young people. It doesn’t take the place of having your own son, but it is a way that someone in your position can truly help a young man and show him the love of Christ. And truly, if the Lord has not blessed you with physical children, showing the love of Christ is more important than having a child of your own.

In summary, I think men probably approach the issue of barrenness with more detachment than our sisters in Christ, but what does detachment really mean? It means that we can compartmentalize our sorrow and put it in a box so that it doesn’t bother us all the time. But it is still there. We pray to God for solace, and He gives solace when and where it pleases Him, not when and where it pleases us. In the meantime, He has given you the best solace in His Son and Holy Spirit (the Comforter!), and at the same time, I think He gives you other blessings and avenues of service that might just be unique to people in your situation.

—Rev. Dr. Benjamin T. G. Mayes

Telling Mom and Dad

Mom and Dad are two of my greatest blessings, and I love them dearly.  They have always been my strongest supporters.  Mom helped me study lists of words for school spelling bees.  Dad sat beside me at the kitchen table as I struggled to divide fractions.  They prayed with me before bed each night and sent me to school with the words, “God be with you.”  I knew they loved and supported me.  They also encouraged my brothers and me to talk openly with them.  Mom and Dad were always willing listeners and encouraged us to share our thoughts.

Sadly, my parents were the hardest people to tell when it came to discussions surrounding my barrenness.  I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  As I was preparing for my laparascopy, Jerome suggested calling my parents to let them know what was going to happen.  I dreaded that call; I  didn’t want them to know anything about it.  Why was I so scared, so apprehensive?  I was ashamed and embarrassed.  I thought I had let them down.  They had been waiting for grandchildren, and I hadn’t come through for them.  I felt that I had disappointed them, even though I knew this could never be true.

I wanted to tell my parents that I was pregnant, not that I was barren.  Thanks be to God for Jerome.  He held my hand as we started that conversation.  I don’t even know what we said anymore.  I know that I cried.  Even though those early talks are now blurred in my mind, I can confidently say that my parents’ love for me never wavered.  I knew that they were still going to love and cherish me unconditionally.

Sometime after our initial barrenness talks, my mom shared that she didn’t know what to say or do.  I recall her saying, “You have to tell me how to support you because we haven’t gone through anything like this.”  Mom was right.  This was new for our family, and none of us knew what to say or do.  Mom knew, though.  She loved me; she told me she cared.  Our family is still learning how to talk about barrenness.  I don’t think it will ever be easy because it will always hurt.  However, God gives us family members to share the burden.  There is great joy in being a daughter, for I know that I am a child of God.  In my darkest hours, I could recall that I am the child of parents who love me, even though I may never be a parent myself.

Dear sisters, it’s hard to talk about barrenness.  We’ve not heard conversations about it before, so we’re charting new territory.  It’s frightening to say aloud that you’re barren.  Know this, though.  Your family loves you.  Your value in the family does not depend upon the size of your family.  You are God’s child, and He loves you as you are.  I regret not telling my parents sooner about our struggles with barrenness.  They knew we were hurting but wanted to respect our privacy and our wish to share things when we were ready.  I had neglected to let my parents love and care for me in my grief, but God gives us family to care for us and to carry our sorrows.

When you’re ready, I encourage you to share your barrenness with your family.  Yes, it will be hard, very hard.  The book He Remembers the Barren is an excellent way to start the conversation.  Katie states beautifully the hurt, the pain, the grief, the hope, the joy that we have as Christians who live in the Lord.  Her words become your words as you struggle to verbalize your barrenness.  And you’ll never be alone in your barrenness.  We, your sisters in the family of Christ, are praying for you.

Caring for the Barren Woman – Take Three!

Rebecca Mayes and I are planning to hit the road in April in hopes of meeting YOU. We will be presenting on the topic “Caring for the Barren Woman” at Concordia University Chicago, Concordia Theological Seminary, and various churches in Michigan and Indiana. Won’t you please come out and see us? Location and presentation details can be found here.

If you would like any of the HeRemembersTheBarren.com hosts to present “Caring for the Barren Woman” at a church near you, please let us know via the “Submit a Question” page on this website.

We can’t wait to meet you!

My Peach

I had a peach growing inside of me. Not a little peach, but a ripe, juicy peach measuring at eight centimeters. Like any fruit in its prime, my peach needed to be harvested before it became hazardous to the rest of my orchard. Heaven forbid it should turn rancid, or – worse! – grow so big as to break off a limb!

“There is only one thing to do,” my orchard keeper said. “We need to schedule a peachectomy.”

Okay.

“And, who knows? Maybe, we’ll find some weeds to pull or some dead branches to trim. If not, we can at least test the soil’s acidity before next spring.”

“Peachy,” was all I could say.

However, I felt anything but. A peachectomy, you see, has never been on my bucket list, and I have always lived in hopes that my tree, fruitful or not, would never ever have to be axed or chainsaw massacred. Still, my orchard keeper is the best, so there was nothing left for me to do but to take her advice and to trust in the Lord of the Harvest.

Right around this time I received a package in the mail from a friend. It was wrapped in white paper, and next to my name on the top was a cut-out of an orange-yellow piece of fruit. I started laughing before I even opened the package, and I kept laughing as I pulled out an assortment of peachy-rific gifts: peaches and cream oatmeal, peach tea, peach lip gloss, you name it. “Here’s your ‘Life’s a Peach’ survival kit,” my friend wrote. “You weren’t trying to have surgery without one, right?”

Praise be to God, my peach was successfully harvested, pesky weeds were pulled, and my soil’s acidity was determined fine and dandy. I find myself daily offering up prayers of thanks to God for such a wise and talented orchard keeper and for such loving, thoughtful, hilarious friends who never let a sister in Christ feel alone in her suffering. (Thank you, Rebekah!) Life really is a peach.

Jump Squats

Everyone has a coping mechanism. Some bake brownies for personal consumption, others escape reality through episodes of Downton Abbey, and others still sew and stitch and glue and prune and create to their hearts’ content.

My coping mechanism? Training for the next big race.

So, you can imagine my feeling of panic when my doctor told me last August that I had to immediately cease all impact exercise. No road races. No triathlons. No nothing. That was six months ago, and I am still staring at four more weeks on the calendar before I can hit the pavement running again.

Sometimes, the temptation to despair is overwhelming. We already lose so much in our barrenness – our family line, our health, our societal pride, our Mother’s Day carnations – that the thought of losing one more thing, especially that thing which brings us the most temporal comfort, threatens to break us.

But losing it won’t break you. The things that we lose in this life are not the things that last, and they most certainly are not the things that save us from despair. Abandoning my sneakers has only reassured me of this truth: Neither death nor life nor things present nor things to come nor lost endorphins will separate me from the love of Christ. His gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation do last, and they most certainly do save me from despair. They are even readily available to me today in His Word and in His Body and Blood, filling me with comfort when my coping mechanism can’t.

Still, I am really looking forward to doing jump squats again.

Surgery Survival Kit

Laparoscopies. Laparotomies. Myomectomies. Hysterectomies. Sometimes, surgeries come hand-in-hand with barrenness, so we decided to create a Surgery Survival Kit for all of you. Here is the best (and worst) of what we have learned from our own experiences under the knife:

1. Do whatever your doctor tells you to do, both pre and post-surgery. Ignore everything else on this list if your doctor does not approve. (Sincerely, your HRTB Hosts)

2. Um, don’t even try to get through this ordeal without a stash of dark chocolate on hand. (Katie)

3. See if you can get your post-surgery prescriptions at your pre-op appointment. It is nice to have those meds ordered, picked-up, ready to go, and waiting for you when you get home. (Katie)

4. While you’re at the pharmacy, go ahead and stock up on MiraLAX or some kind of stool softener. Constipation is a common side effect of pain killers. (Katie and Jen)

5. Following a laparoscopy, you are most likely going to have gas pain in your shoulders (No kidding!), and it can cause you more discomfort post surgery than your actual incisions. The gas is leftover carbon dioxide from all that was pumped into your abdomen during the procedure. It can take up to 48 hours for your body to reabsorb the gas, so I recommend stocking up on some Gas X (Jen swears by the strips!) and having a heating pad within reach. (Katie)

6. Buy some good pads. The hospital may send you home with a few, but buy ones you like.  Bleeding is common after whateverectomies, and the last thing you want to do on the way home from surgery is stop somewhere to buy pads. (Jen)

7. Make sure your pastor knows the date, time, and location of your surgery, so that he can be there to read Psalms to you and pray with you while you wait. Don’t be embarrassed to tell him. I promise you, it’s worth it. (Katie)

8. Wear low-rise, loose-fitting, comfy pants to your surgery, as well as slip-on shoes. Your incision(s) will thank you later. (Katie)

9. Leave a pillow in your car. Trust me, you want something in between you and the seatbelt on your way home from the hospital. (Rebecca and Katie)

10. Are you a singer? Make sure your anesthesiologist knows. You can tell him/her when he calls you the night before your surgery. It doesn’t hurt to remind your anesthesiologist to look out for your vocal folds during intubation. (Katie)

11. Pack a bag for the hospital. You may be going in with the intention of having outpatient surgery, but you never know – especially if it is a diagnostic surgery – whether or not it will turn into an overnight stay. Must-have items on your packing list: toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, hair rubbers bands, pajamas, prescription meds, a good book, your glasses case, and someone to take you home. (Jen and Katie)

12. Invite someone to stay with you for a few days (or longer). It can be very difficult to manage on your own when you are on bed rest, doped up on pain meds, legally unable to drive, and on doctor’s orders not to lift anything over ten pounds. (Jen)

13. I remember seeing a cat scampering around the post-op room as I was coming to. If you see similar sights that just shouldn’t be there you are probably halucinating and need to close those eyes again to get more sleep. Or else you just chose the wrong hospital. I’m pretty sure my cat didn’t really exist. (Rebecca)

14. I found it incredibly helpful to have an audio book available to listen to after my last surgery. Since I had to spend the night, and since it’s very difficult to sleep with those stupid leg compression tights on and the accompanying LOUD compression machine, it was nice to be able to turn something on in the middle of the night when I was wide awake. It was also nice to have it post-surgery at home when I just didn’t feel like focusing on the pages of a book, or I was too tired to keep my eyes open and watch a movie but my body wouldn’t let me sleep. (Rebecca)

15. Bending straws are your friends, especially on those days when sitting up is difficult. (Jen)

16. Ginger Ale tastes so much better than water when you are groggy and nauseous from the anesthesia. Mom’s chicken and quinoa soup is also a must. And some salty crackers. And some watermelon. And some bing cherries. And…zzzzzzzzz. (Katie)

17. Everyone reacts to anesthesia differently, so be prepared for some side effects. Headaches are normal, though not fun. Have that heating pad ready! The pain medication doesn’t necessarily take those headaches away. (Rebecca)

18. Have a recliner or some kind of armchair available for sleeping in the first night at home. Another option is to have multiple pillows on hand to prop yourself up in bed. Be prepared to sleep on your back for awhile. It can be painful to turn onto your side. (Kristi, Rebecca, Jen, and Katie)

19. If your bed is high, consider getting some type of stool. It can be difficult getting in and out of bed when your abs are toast. (Jen)

20. Along the same lines, consider investing (around $50) in a raised toilet seat. Getting up and down from a low seat can be really painful and difficult for the first week or so, especially if you have had a myomectomy. (Jen)

21. Don’t be afraid if you feel some numbness above your incision. This can happen due to nerves being cut. It can take awhile to get some feeling back. Call your doctor if you are concerned. (Jen)

22. Start walking as soon as your doctor says it’s okay and you feel up to it. It helps get your digestive system moving again. (Jen)

23. Listen to your body as you recover. Sometimes at the beginning of the day you may feel great and make plans for a fuller day. But if your body gives out after a few hours, stop everything and rest. Don’t plan to bounce back immediately, no matter what you’ve heard from other people’s experiences. The last thing you want is a business trip scheduled for the week after surgery. So, be gentle with yourself. You’ve come through surgery, and the body is tender. It will take time to heal, so don’t push it. (Rebecca and Kristi)

24. Indulge in some light shopping. Every girl needs a new pair of sexy granny panties to cover up her incision. (Jen)

25. Be at peace in the knowledge that you are God’s own child, and He preserves and sustains your life. He perfectly loves you in Jesus. Whatever happens, it’s okay. (The Bible)

P.S. These suggestions are lovingly brought to you by Jen, Rebecca, Kristi, and Katie. Happy Healing!

Pep Talk

It’s not a pep talk we give ourselves. It’s not a mantra we repeatedly say in meditation to achieve some kind of inner peace. It’s not a pop psychology trick we employ to convince ourselves that everything is really okay when it isn’t.

It’s simply the truth.

It’s the reality of life in Christ.

It’s the life-giving Word to which our faith responds in feast or famine, in clear water or hurricane, in fruitfulness or barrenness.

So, baptized child of God, let me say it to you again: All things work together for your good.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. 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.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died – more than that, who was raised – who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

‘For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:18-39; ESV)

The Elephant Pregnancy

I admire the elephant mother.  Did you know that she is pregnant for 22 months before giving birth?

Once our family decided to pursue an international adoption, the whirlwind of paperwork began.  We scrambled to assemble our portfolio and rushed it overseas.  After that, there was nothing to do but sit and wait.  Eventually more information was requested about us.  We quickly gathered the necessary papers and sent the information.  Then came more waiting.  When starting the adoption process in 2006, we were informed that our wait would be 13-14 months to receive a child.

It’s now 2012, and we’re still waiting.  Somewhere along the way, I realized that our adoption would not complete its course in a short 14 months.  When the months stretched into years, things didn’t get any easier.  I had let myself get excited, anticipating the addition of a child to our family in a short amount of time.  When that didn’t happen, I buried those feelings of excitement deep inside me.  I focused on my vocations of wife, mother, and friend, rather than dwell on what had not been given to me.  The Lord knew that it was not yet time for our family to add another member.

Recently I talked with my adoption liaison about the events that will occur between our referral and travel.  She was delighted to share some information and prepare me for what is to come.  I was disappointed, though, to hear that the length of time between the referral and travel would be 3-4 months.  Since 2006, I had been told that the wait time would be about 8 weeks.  I was more than disappointed; I was disheartened.  With that news, it became likely that we would not travel until early fall.  Our family would have to wait at least 3 months after referral to see our child.  Another low point.

I don’t know how the elephant does it.  She knows she’s pregnant, and for nearly two years she waits.  That’s a long time, but she can’t change the situation.  To deliver any sooner would be detrimental to the health of her baby.  Instead, she continues to go about her tasks and takes care of herself.  For two incredibly long years.

I know how long waiting can be.  I’ve been doing it for six years already.  And yet, no good thing does God withhold from his children.   Our family must wait several weeks longer.  Can I change that?  No.  I gain nothing by complaining about the circumstances.  Rather, I cling to God’s grace to me. The will of God is always good, and I know that to be true for all believers in Christ.  I have been given more time to pray for this child, more opportunities to prepare our family to meet her, more days to ready our home for her.  I don’t need to worry about the time frame; God has taken care of it for me.

So today I identify with the elephant.  Her pregnancy lasts 22 months.  By the time it’s all said and done, our adoption process will be longer than an elephant’s pregnancy… three times over.  But that’s okay because the Lord knows my needs, and His timing is always the best.  Thanks be to God that He never forgets His children, elephant-wait and all.