Today was a hard day. Most of the time I have good days - today was not one of them. On days like this I find myself wondering if I’ll ever have a family. My emotions are high and my faith is low and I can’t decide if I want to scream my head off or cry my eyes out. I usually choose the latter (I’m not much of a screamer) and if my husband is around, he holds me and tells me everything is going to be OK. And I think, how can he be so sure?
I’ve gotten to the point where the word “pregnant” makes me want to throw up. Actually, I believe I’ve developed super-sonic ears that are sensitive only to the word “pregnant.” The other night I was sitting in a restaurant enjoying dinner with friends. There must have been fifteen conversations going on right around me. There was story-telling and laughter and honestly, I could barely hear my husband ask me to pass the salt. Then, two tables over I heard someone say . . . “I think she was PREGNANT at the time.” And at that very moment, my heart sank into my stomach and suddenly, I wasn’t hungry any more. Why is it that the very thing you can’t wait to become makes you crazy? I know the answer. It’s not the “word”, it’s not the “thing” - it’s the wait that makes you hurt.
It’s been 10 long months since I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. And that was just one month before the date Dave and I had determined we were released to start trying to get pregnant. How’s that for timing? Before that, I spent about 18 months longing for the day we would have a family. So when I calculate the time between that very first heart longing for a baby and today, I get about 29 months. Twenty-nine months! I could have had 3 children by now!
But that was not the Lord’s will for me. So here I stand, contending for what I know He’s put in my heart, but content to wait on Him. It’s a battle that rages in the heart and the mind but that must be fought in the spirit. I am constantly amazed at the number of women I come into contact with who are struggling with infertility. I believe 7 out of 10 of my closest girlfriends have had a miscarriage in the past few years. At least 3 of my friends have battled infertility for over 2 years. It’s astonishing to me that it is so hard for all of these stable couples to start a family. Yet, why should I be surprised? Of course there is a battle against good, solid families being established.
The interesting thing about the miracle of life is that the miracle is no less when it happens without struggle. Every life that the Lord breathes into being is a miracle. Every child that is called forth into life is a miracle. So if we believe the Lord can create life inside of us at all, why is it so hard to believe He can do it in the face of adversity?
Not long after I found out about my health issues, the Lord spoke something very clearly to me. I heard Him say,
“Jessica, if you believe that I am all powerful and that I can do anything . . .and if you believe that I love you and would do it for you . . . then the only reason you are not pregnant right now is because I do not will for it to be so, right now.”
After I digested those words, I was filled with so much hope. I did believe that He could do anything. I guess I had a hard time believing that He’d do it for me. I didn’t realize that this was a reflection of what I believe to be true about His love for me. But His love for us is deep and it is wide and His heart holds our dream of motherhood very close. After all, He created us so intricately to serve this purpose.
About six months ago, my waiting came to an end. I came home from work early one day and I wasn’t feeling like myself. I thought I would take a pregnancy test just to see. You never know, right? And then. . .there they were. . .those coveted double pink lines. Oh the second line was faint, but it was there. By golly, it was there! I didn’t know if I should jump up and down or fall to my knees. Tears welled up in my eyes and I just began praising the Lord for our miracle. Yet I didn’t want to allow my heart to get carried away. What if it wasn’t accurate? Or worse, what if something terrible happened?
When my husband Dave came home, I showed him the test and in his own, adorable, reserved way he rejoiced with me. The following week, my doctor confirmed the test and being a believer who had prayed with me for this miracle, rejoiced as well.
I was beside myself. This was it. The miracle we had been asking for. It was really happening. I immediately dove into pregnancy books and websites, learning every little detail I could about how that little one was growing inside of me. I know they say that you shouldn’t share the news of pregnancy too soon, just in case something happens, but this was our miracle! Our whole family and small group and all of our friends had been praying heaven down into my womb. I was not about to walk in fear and keep this to myself. I wanted to proclaim from the rooftop what the Lord had done. And so we shared the good news with those that walked closest to us. I am so honored to say that was a good number of people.
Just about four weeks later, after a week of complications, our little one went to be with Jesus. Oh just typing this a few short months after it happened makes my heart hurt. I feel like something so precious slipped right out of my fingers and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was so full of hurt and grief and questions. It didn’t make any sense. Why would He give us this miracle after praying so hard only to take it away? What was the point of all those people interceding for this life if His sovereignty would lead to its death in the end? Why do I have to wait and wait while all these women around me effortlessly have babies?
Oh I have so many questions. And my answer to all of them is in the name, Jesus. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. I know I may not understand all that He is doing but I choose to hope in Him. I'm learning that it is ok to ask the questions. . .to be honest with the state of my heart. As long as I come to the place of settling my heart on the promises He's already given me and the truth of who He is. I do not know how long this journey will last. But I'm not about to give up. There is life in the process. I choose to let it be birthed in me as I walk this road.
1 comment:
I can't believe that you counted the number of months--yikes, I counted mine and even knowing the end month,it was a bit depressing.
It is so hard to understand how life slips away in your own womb that you have believed and prayed for so much. After my miscarriages I always had trouble saying I didn't have any kids, because I knew that I did, they were just in heaven.
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