How to Pray During Infertility

Periodically, I get emails from readers of Pregnant with Hope: Good News for Infertile Couples.  The most common question is “Will you pray for me?”  But this morning, I got a different question about prayer.  Jovita wrote to say she’s worried that she isn’t praying “right,” and she asked for guidance.  Here’s what I wrote in response….

The only wrong way to pray is without humility and honesty.  Those two components are essential to effective prayer.  Without them, your prayers are offensive to God because they are a charade.

Here’s what I mean.  Scripture says “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”  A humble heart is an acknowledgement that you need God; you cannot succeed without Him.  It’s an admission that you cannot force a heartbeat into the womb.  You cannot force a birth mother to choose you to adopt her child.  And, you cannot force God to respond to your agenda and your timetable.

Prayers without humility are often thinly-veiled attempts at arm-twisting, sweet-talking, or otherwise manipulating God.  They are typically demanding, selfish and short-sighted.  They are often prayers for instant gratification, rather than prayers of patient faith.  Does that seem at all familiar?  It was for me at the beginning of our infertility journey.

As for honest prayers, scripture makes clear that part of what God loved about David was his honesty.  David voiced his hopes, his remorse, his grief, his anger, his fear… all of it without censorship to the God He loved and trusted.  In response, God gave him a life beyond what he could have asked or imagined.

The same is true for us.  God wants an intimate relationship with us based on complete honesty.  He already knows our deepest thoughts, fears and hopes.  When we voice them to Him in prayer, we are owning the truth of who we are, how we think, and what we feel — and asking Him to love us in the midst of all that.  In spite of all that.  Doing so risks trusting Him completely.  And that delights and honors Him.

So, if you are praying with a humble heart and speaking the truth of what you feel, you’re praying the “right” way.

Beyond that, the most valuable, hard-earned wisdom I have gained about prayer is that telling God what I want and how I want it limits what He can do in my life.  The most truthful and humble prayer I can pray — and consistently the most effective — is “Lord, Your will be done.  I ask for Your best in this situation, whatever that may be, and I trust You to give it to me when the time is right.”

When I pray this way, I surrender (the illusion of) control.  I defer my will to His wisdom and choose to trust His judgment completely.  As a result, I begin to experience peace even before I know the answer.

Scripture says “the prayers of the righteous are powerful and effective” and I am “made righteous by faith.”  So, even if I don’t know when or how God will answer, I KNOW that He will.  It may be in a different way than I ever could have imagined.  Or, it may be just what I would’ve chosen.  Either way, it will be God’s best for me.

In hindsight, that will become clearer… and clearer… and clearer.

It always does.

So, pour your heart out to God.  Trust Him with the truth.  Acknowledge your limitations, praise Him because He has none, and rejoice that He can do ANYTHING.  Tell Him what’s weighing on your heart, ask Him to give you His best, let go, and allow Him to flood your heart with peace.

If you do, I can promise that — in His perfect timing — He will answer your prayers, to His glory.

There is Nothing Wrong with Hope

In his book, Love, Medicine & Miracles, Dr. Bernie Siegel writes, “In the face of uncertainty, there is nothing wrong with hope.”  How often has your infertility specialist said that to you?  How about your family or friends?  There is something in Siegel’s unconditional assertion – “there is nothing wrong with hope” – that implies a confidence infertile couples often crave, but do not feel.

Dr. Siegel, a cancer surgeon, discovered years ago that a subset of those patients who came to him for help were able to live lives of meaning and purpose in the midst of uncertainty.  These “exceptional patients,” as he called them, experienced something during their journey that they shared repeatedly with him:  attitude is everything.  As they explained, the belief(s) that guide your thoughts will determine the quality of the life you live.

The same is true of the infertility journey.

Couples who learn to trust God’s plan, release their grip on (the illusion of) control, and lean into believing that there is a purpose in their struggle, invariably go on to become parents.  Some by conception.  Some by adoption.  A few by foster parenthood.  But all of them get there.  I have yet to see a couple give their dream to God and forever remain a twosome.  It’s a matter of how – not If.  A question of when – not Whether.

“… There is nothing wrong with hope.”  Siegel’s words are a great reminder that there is no great risk in hoping that God is faithful.  Hoping that His promises hold true for ALL believers.  Hoping that He will elect to bless those who trust Him – His purpose, His plan, His timing.  There is nothing wrong with hope!  It is not irrational. It is not delusional.  It is not unfounded.

It is faith.

And we have been called to walk by faith, and not by sight.  We have been taught to trust a God we cannot see, but who hears our prayers, knows our thoughts, and shares in our suffering.  It is this God who alone is able to realize our deep desire to become parents.  It is His will that makes it possible.  And when we are in the flow of His will, “there is nothing wrong with hope.”

I know several couples who will be finding out in the next few days whether their recent IVF’s have resulted in Christmas conceptions.  I hope that they have.  But even more, I hope that the God who knows their hearts, feels their longing, and intends to bless the seed of hope He has already planted will give these couples nothing less than His very best.  ‘

I know from experience — it’s worth waiting for.

Emmanuel.  God with us.  There is cause for hope.

Where to Draw the Line

A reader posted a comment today asking me to address the question of how to know when — and presumably where — to draw the line in the pursuit of a diagnosis that can lead to effective treatment and, ultimately, parenthood.

She wrote…

 “I am not searching for information in an obsessive desire to gain control. We need the right diagnosis before we pursue treatment. Don’t we?  I appreciate where you are coming from, but I also wonder if it is misleading to some to imply that we must leave everything — even practical considerations for which we have human responsibility — up to God.  I would love to hear your thoughts on this, as this issue troubles me.  ‘Leave it all up to God’ can be taken too far….”

It’s a great question and a troubling issue for many infertile couples.  Let me address it by sharing a story about my Dad.

My father was an oncologist who treated patients with rare and deadly forms of cancer.  Because he spent years doing cancer research, and because he was a determined perfectionist, he made it his business to know every possible avenue from their sickness to health.  And, he promised to do everything he could to help them reach the desired outcome.

Occasionally, a patient would respond to the recommended treatment with horror — So painful! So taxing!  So prolonged! — and state confidently:  “God is going to perform a miracle and heal me.”  My father, the faith-full son of a minister, would respond:  “That would be great, and I’d love to witness it, but it’s possible that that isn’t God’s plan.”

Then, he’d tell them the story of a man trapped in his home during a flood.  As the flood waters rose, the man’s next door neighbor floated up to his front door in a two-man rowboat.  “Want to jump in?  We can paddle to dry land.”  The man waved him off saying, “No thanks.  God will save me.”  The floodwaters rose and the man was forced to climb up to his attic.  From this vantage point, he could see the water rising quickly over the town.  A local sheriff steered a motorboat toward the man’s attic window and called, “I’ll come get you!  It’s not too late to get to dry land a few miles away!”  The homeowner signaled no, calling out, “I’ll be fine.  God will save me.”

As the water continued to rise, the man was forced to climb out the attic window onto his roof.  All he could see for miles around was water.  No one else seemed to be standing on their rooftop waiting on God to perform a miracle.  A helicopter flew overhead and a voice boomed out of a loudspeaker, “This is your last chance!  We’re going to throw down a ladder!  Abandon your home!  Save yourself!”  The man responded, “I’m trusting God!  He can do anything!”  He waved off the helicopter, and the pilot flew away shaking his head.  The floodwaters continued to rise and the man finally drowned.

When he arrived in heaven, he asked God angrily, “Didn’t You see me on my roof?  I told everyone You’d perform a miracle.  Why didn’t You save me?!”  God answered with a sigh, “I sent you two boats and a helicopter.”

The point my father was trying to make is that, although God is capable of performing miracles – and sometimes He does, He is also capable of intervening in our circumstances through others.  As Dad often said, “Medical miracles don’t happen every day; that’s why they call them miracles.”

Our unwillingness to avail ourselves of help from any source but God Himself is actually a decision to refuse His help — except on our terms, in ways that fit our sense of how the story should unfold.

So, can “leave it all up to God” be taken too far?

Clearly, yes.

Every once in a while, one of the patients who’d refused further treatment from my father, deciding instead to wait for a miracle, would die — just like the man who drowned on the roof of his house.  It broke his heart.  As he’d share the news with us, usually around a somber dinner table, he would remind us, “It was their choice.”  He would explain that adults sometimes insist that God act on their terms and their timetable, or else.  And they’d wind up with Or Else.

That can happen on the infertility journey, too.  Couples can insist that God help them conceive on their timetable with the treatment they’ve decided to pursue — or else.  Or else what?  Very often, or else they fail to become parents and their anger at God drives a wedge between them and the only One with the power to make anything possible.

Sometimes, patients who elected to pursue my Dad’s recommended treatment would reach a point in their illness when he’d need to say, “There’s not much more I can do for you.”  They would have entrusted themselves to his care believing God could and would act through him.  But, medical science would have reached its limits.  He would have failed to deliver the cure they’d both hoped for, and God would not have performed a miracle.

It was time to make the rest of the journey with an altered perspective.  He would ask them, “How do you want to spend the rest of your life, knowing that your time is limited?  What, and who, is most important to you?  You have the gift of knowing that these will be your last days/weeks/months.  How will you invest them?”  It was never an easy conversation, but it was a deeply spiritual one – and one that many family members tearfully thanked him for having, once the journey was over.

There’s a parallel here, too, to the infertility journey.  Sometimes, having pursued the course of treatment that we believe makes sense, having viewed the science of medicine as a gift from God, we find ourselves at the end of the well-travelled road.  Now what?  Where should we turn?  What should we do?  No one can tell us with certainty how our journey will unfold, if we choose to press on.  No one can guarantee where we’ll wind up, or if we’ll be glad for the choices we made.

No one but God.

He has traveled this far with us, and He has promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

It is this part of the journey than can be life-changing.  As we cry out to Him, “Why is this happening?!” we pour our effort into seeking answers to questions we’ve tried hard to avoid:  “What if our dream isn’t your plan, God?  What does that mean?  Why do other people conceive successfully while we struggle?  Why are you so often silent in the face of our tears and pleas?  Where are You?!”

Wrestling with these questions can lead us into a new, deeper intimacy with God.  If and when we trust the relationship enough to let go of our plans and, instead, gratefully embrace whatever God gives, He promises “all things [will] work together for good….”  Our story may look nothing like what we’d envisioned.  But it will be His purposeful, intentional, grace-filled best for us.  I have seen this happen countless times — in my own life, in the lives of Dad’s patients, and in the lives of infertile couples.

It can happen in your life, too.

===========================================================================

If you want to dig deeper into scripture, and into the stories of couples who’ve made this journey and agreed to share their first-hand accounts, I encourage you to read Pregnant With Hope: Good News for Infertile Couples.  You’ll find wisdom, comfort and hope.

Transition Time

I’ve spent the last several weeks — maybe longer — trying to get a clear answer from God about whether to keep investing the time and effort required to write posts for this blog three times a week.  I realize it takes only a minute or two to read a post of mine.  But typically, it takes 2-3 hours to write one that will be worth reading.  That’s because I take this commitment very seriously.  If I’m going to talk to you in the midst of a journey as emotionally-charged and completely exhausting as infertility, I don’t want to waste your time.

You may be tempted to laugh when I tell you I haven’t been able to get an answer.  Sound familiar?  I’ve written quite a few posts on the silence of God.  Now, I guess, it’s time to remember my own advice.

I tried waiting.  That didn’t get a response.  Then, I waited some more.  Still nothing.  I tried asking for a sign.  No sign came.  I tried consulting people I think of as spiritual mentors.  Conflicting advice left me running in circles.  Finally, I consulted my friendly neighborhood psychiatrist (aka my husband).  His wise words did me a lot of good.  He said simply, “Maybe God’s letting you decide.”

Wow.  God trusts me to make a good decision?

All right then.  Here goes….

I’ve decided that writing 3x/week if I have nothing to say is pointless.  Forcing a message is the equivalent of expecting you listen to ME — because if I’m working hard to come up with something new to say, the Holy Spirit isn’t speaking through me (Trust me, I can tell my voice from His).

It may be that I’ve told you everything I’ve ever understood about how God works through infertility.  Or, maybe it’s time for me to spend a season at the feet of the One who loves to reveal Himself, so that I can bring you something new when I understand it more fully.

In any case, I’m making no promises about when or how often I’ll post from now on.  But, that doesn’t mean you can’t find help or hope!  There are literally hundreds of posts here for you to read.  Search them by categories or tags to meet a specific need, or just start reading and work your way forwards or backwards.  Print out whatever’s helpful — be it an entire post or a particular phrase — and keep that on your bedside table, share it with your doctor, or pass it on to a friend who’s making the same journey.

This blog is for you.  This library of promises and insights is a gift of the Spirit, who is with you always.  Use it to give you strength, courage, and cause for hope.

blessings always,

Susan

p.s.  If you haven’t already read Pregnant With Hope: Good News for Infertile Couples, it will walk you through ten stages of the infertility journey — from hopeless despair to peace-full anticipation.   It will also allow you to hear ten couples’ first-hand narratives about their own passage through heartache to joy.  Read it, and find the inspiration to keep believing in the God who never fails those who trust Him.

Bitterness and Acceptance

A new subscriber to this blog writes about her infertility journey in EggsInARow.  In a recent post, she asked, “When does the bitterness go away and the acceptance come?”

That’s the kind of question that can cast a sudden pall over the room when couples gather to talk about infertility.  Why?  Because acceptance implies defeat, and no one wants to consider that possibility…. But everyone constantly does.  A few fearless souls do so publicly.  Some, like EggsInARow, ponder it anonymously.  Many, many more struggle in secret.

The deepest fear in every heart, though, is that acceptance of defeat may be the destination to which this road leads.  Childlessness.  Forever.  Is that the inevitable outcome?  If so, how do you know when it’s time to give up?  And if not, how do you keep hope alive?

The temptation, when we don’t know how the story will unfold, is to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.  To squint into the future and see what’s coming so that we’ll have time to brace ourselves if it’s bad, and to lean into joy if it’s good.  That sense of informed anticipation enables us to maintain the illusion of control when – deep down – this whole thing feels out-of-control.

Is that the best we can do?  Prepare ourselves to relinquish bitterness in favor of acceptance?  Then just wait for the inevitable?

Yes.

And, no.

Yes, it’s wise to relinquish bitterness.  Choosing to cling to it affirms a sense of being victimized, mistreated, and unfairly punished.  It fuels the self-pity that undermines hope.  It poisons the spirit and burdens the heart.  Intentionally or not, it encourages us to consider God a liar because it refuses to believe that “all things work together for good…” (Romans 8:28).

What about acceptance?  Should we relinquish that, too?  Or embrace it?  Honestly, both.  We should relinquish the acceptance that is an expression of despair.  The voice that tells us, “There’s no hope.  You’ll never have a baby.”  That kind of acceptance trusts the lies of God’s enemy more than God Himself.

Remember:  God can do anything!  The fact that you cannot see or envision how He could make you a parent doesn’t mean you won’t be one.  The appearance of impossibility may be setting the stage for a miracle.  Or, it may be redirecting your path away from the way you imagined this unfolding to the path that leads to God’s best – for you, and for the child He already has planned for you.

So, don’t accept defeat.  Accept the fact that you are not in control.  And then decide:  will I see that as cause for despair, or cause for hope?  If you humbly acknowledge your need for God’s help and invite Him to guide your steps —  wherever that may lead — there’s definitely cause for hope.  If you put your energy into trusting, rather than controlling, you are headed for joyful good news.

It’s your choice.

Wait and see.

=======================================================

For more inspiration and cause for hope, get a copy of Pregnant With Hope: Good News for Infertile Couples.

Lessons from a Do-Over

I just spent six weeks recovering from major surgery.  In many ways, it was a surreal journey through familiar territory I had hoped to forget.

When our son was born prematurely, I lost a lot of blood during the delivery – so much that I (temporarily) lost my vision.  My brain was shutting down non-essential functions to try to save my life.  I heard the doctors yelling at my husband to get out of the OR, calling for bags of blood to transfuse me, and asking me how much pain I felt while prepping me for emergency surgery.

I couldn’t see anything, but I heard the urgency in their voices.  I kept asking, “What’s wrong?  Why can’t I see?  What’s happening?”  Instead of answers, they responded with frantic questions of their own:  “Can you feel this?  Does this hurt?  Can you see now?  What’s her pulse ox?  Where’s the blood?  Are we ready?”

Thankfully, the surgeons did their job well.  I survived — as did the baby who was born that day.  But, the doctors told me that, somewhere down the road, they’d need to do more surgery.  Their sole focus that day had been keeping me alive.  They hadn’t worried about future function, sensation or appearance.  So, at some point, they’d need to operate again – to repair some things, reconfigure some things, redo some things – in order to return my body to normal.

That’s the surgery I just had.

Here’s why it was such a gift….   It felt like a do-over.  Like a second chance to experience that day, but to do so mindful of God’s faithfulness.

Here’s what I mean.  Six weeks ago, I was waiting in pre-op for a nurse to put in multiple IV lines (my veins are tiny, so it frequently takes 4 or 5 sticks to get a line in).  I dreaded this part of the process and knew I had to keep myself calm.  I was cold and shivering – adrenaline, no doubt – and suddenly I remembered how cold I was that day in the delivery room, lying on the table unable to see.

I could feel fear rising in me, threatening to become panic.  So, I started humming “Peace Like a River” — like a little kid whistling in the dark.  And guess what?  It actually worked.  My shivering slowed and I could feel my body begin to relax.  Nurses hustled back and forth outside my pre-op room, but no one bothered to check on me.  No one came with needles and IV lines.  So, I kept humming.

I closed my eyes, trying to visualize peace like a river.  Soothing.  Flowing.  Making its way from the Source to me, and back again.  Then, love like an ocean.  Vast.  Powerful.  Endless.  And joy like a fountain.  Constantly overflowing.  I hummed, and hummed, and hummed some more.

Gradually, my effort to calm myself became an impromptu worship service.  Tears came to my eyes as I thanked God for walking with me through the darkest days of our journey (peace), for the lives of our children and the strength of our marriage (love), and our hope for the future (joy).

I could feel His presence and His delight in my gratitude.  I was headed for surgery, but all was well.  I could let go of fear and walk through this focused on His goodness and faithfulness.  And He would walk with me.

I won’t lie to you.  I threw up (repeatedly) when I came out of the anesthesia.  I didn’t meet the criteria for discharge, so they admitted me to the hospital.  My belly was as big as if I’d just delivered, and it took weeks before I could quit taking Motrin for pain.  But, I felt that peace wrapped around me like a blanket.

And now?  I’m fine.  And God is good.  What I had dreaded – and repeatedly postponed – turned out to be a reminder that I only need to invite God to be present in my struggles, and He will be.  Always.  Bringing peace, love and even joy to the journey.

Invite Him to do it for you, too.

Peace Despite Negative Outcomes

I got a bittersweet email from a reader. She had written to me last month asking for prayer as she and her husband tried IVF after five failed IUI’s and a miscarriage. She told me she’d already read Pregnant with Hope once, and she would be re-reading it as they made their way toward Transfer Day because it filled her with confident hope.

Her note this morning said, “None of our embryos made it to Day 3, but I’ve had peace throughout the process.”

How did she do that? How did she sustain a sense of peace despite all the uncertainty? How did she step into the moment of disappointment when she heard none of the embryos made it… and through it?

She chose to trust that God’s best sometimes begins with “No.”

Years ago, Garth Brooks released a country song about unanswered prayer. I heard it so many times that, despite my limited affection for country music, I knew the words by heart – among them: “Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.” It took me years to realize that song was popular, in part, because it’s so true.

For much of my life, I prayed for specific requests to be fulfilled and equated that with answered prayer.  When I didn’t get what I wanted, I took it as an indication that God either didn’t care much about me, or that He wasn’t listening very carefully.

I was wrong.

In hindsight, I can see that the prayers I thought were not being answered were actually answered very clearly:  “No, because I have something better planned.”  “No, because there are things you don’t understand.” “No, because I can see what you cannot see, and I know what you cannot know about the future.” “No, because I love you too much to say ‘yes.’”

The early part of my life was a cake walk. It was easy to love God and trust Him – because I was perpetually blessed. Only when everything possible began to go wrong did I realize that trusting God meant thanking Him for what I didn’t think I wanted. It meant finding peace in the midst of complete chaos and total uncer- tainty, by faith.

When I found that peace and learned how to live into it – despite the stressful circumstances that threatened to hijack every aspect of my life – I stepped into a new relationship with God.  And I started becoming the person He wanted me to be as a parent.

Now, I know better than to tell God what to do. I recognize and respect the fact that His wisdom far surpasses my own. And, equally important, I trust His love for me. I trust that He wants the very best for me – and all those whom I love. So, I pray for His best — whatever, and whenever that may be.

The woman who wrote to me this morning has chosen that same perspective. She trusts this “no” is one step on the journey to the child who’s waiting in her future. The one who is nothing less than God’s best. Imagine God’s delight when it will finally be time to tell her, “Yes.”

 

Struggling with, ‘Is Infertility My Fault?’

Six months ago, the LORD laid on my heart the need to write this.  You’ll know when you read it if God nudged me to re-run it for you….

=======================================================

In the midst of infertility, uncertainty frequently begs the question, ”Why is this happening?  Why to us?  Why now?”  There is a deeper, much more painful question that many people struggle to avoid:  “Is this my fault?  Is this happening because of what I did?”  It is a worry laced with fear – and often, long-buried guilt.  It is virtually never voiced because the one who is desperate to know the answer is also desperately afraid to hear it.

When Angela and Sean tried to start a family, they encountered a series of unexpected hurdles.  “We thought — like everyone else — you get off birth control, wait six months and ‘boom’ you get pregnant,” remembers Angela.  “But I wound up in the ER with an ectopic pregnancy, then a cyst, then surgery for a closed tube, and then a miscarriage….”

Frustrated and worried about their lack of success, they tried to make sense of things.  Sean admits, “My first thought was, ‘Crap, we were on birth control for ten years.”

Angela’s fears went deeper:  “Maybe we weren’t letting God work in His way and that was why we had infertility.”  They tried IVF and failed.  “Maybe we didn’t let it happen naturally and so this was my punishment,” she reasoned.  She began seeking answers in terms of deserved consequences.  “I was asking myself, ‘What did I do wrong before marriage, or during marriage…?  Why is this happening?’”

She didn’t know it, but Sean was also finding fault in his past.  “I grew up Catholic, but when I was 16, I stopped going to church.  Now, I wasn’t praying.  I wasn’t reading the Bible.  We were going to church, but just going through the motions.”  Was God angry at Sean and Angela?  Was this His punishment?  Does He withhold children from those whose crimes are unforgiveable?  They wanted to know, but they couldn’t bring themselves to ask – even each other.

So, where can the answers be found?  And can they provide any peace?  Any reassurance that there is hope for those who’ve made choices or done things that might have angered God?

I have good news, and it starts with Rahab’s story….

When the Israelites headed toward the Promised Land, it was already inhabited by the Canaanites.  Scripture and archaeology reveal their culture was steeped in some of the most shocking, abominable practices imaginable – including incest, bestiality, institutionalized sexual abuse of women and child sacrifice [Leviticus 18:24-28].  In the midst of this depraved society lived a prostitute named Rahab.

Long story short, she knew the Israelites planned to invade Canaan, destroying everyone and everything, under strict instructions from God.  She agreed to help them take the city – in exchange for her life, and the lives of her parents and siblings.

Timeout. Look at Rahab.  She existed on the lowest rung of a sick society.  She had a family that could have provided for her; but apparently, she chose to pursue her profession with all its inherent risks.  Did her constant sexual activity produce children?  She never mentioned any when she negotiated for her life and that of her family.  So, either she disposed of whatever she conceived (abandonment? abortion? child sacrifice?), or she didn’t care enough to protect the lives she’d brought into the world; the invaders could slaughter them.

Does anything in that profile strike you as potentially offensive to God?  Inexcusable?  Unforgiveable?  Then you might want to hear the rest of her story….

She lied to protect the spies sent by the approaching invaders.  It was a traitorous act, committed to help people whose law called for a prostitute to be stoned.  But she chose to entrust herself to the God who had given that law, and to His people.  What became of her?

The whole city was invaded and burned, but she and her family were saved.  She accepted God’s offer of forgiveness for everything in her past.  Then, she married an Israelite who saw beyond that past – and together, they had a son.  Many years later, their great-great grandson, King David, was born.  And many generations after that, her descendant Jesus came into the world.

Does that sound like the story of a woman who got what she deserved?  Who suffered mightily because God was angry at the choices she’d made?  Not to me.  I see Rahab’s story as evidence of God’s incredible mercy.  He knows what’s in all hearts, He understands all motivations, and He stands ready to forgive all pasts – if we are willing to trust Him, act out of that trust, and receive the future He longs to give us.

Does that sound too good to be true?  Not to Sean and Angela, the proud parents of a boy and a girl.  It’s not too good for you, either. Receive God’s grace, and may the blessings begin to flow. 

Secondary Infertility: One Man’s Story

I know a man who experienced secondary infertility years ago.  He and his wife decided that one child was not a whole family, and that – for them – natural conception was the only acceptable road to parenthood.  They tried and prayed, and tried and prayed.  But it never happened.  They remained a family of three.

Years later, they still mourn the fact that their prayers for a second child went unanswered.

This man feels compelled to share his story of unfulfilled longing with couple after couple.  My sense is that he means to offer comfort and commiseration from the vantage point of one who has shared in similar suffering and uncertainty.

When I’ve heard him speak, he’s included sobering statistics about infertility and stories about the stress it brings into relationships.  He’s clearly knowledgeable and very experienced.

So, why am I not a big supporter?

Because I think he has the potential to do as much harm as good.  Not just because I’ve seen people reduced to puddles of tears by the undercurrent of resignation in his words, but because his messages never seem to reflect the light and life of the Holy Spirit.  They don’t reveal deep trust in God’s plan, His goodness and His purposefulness.  And they are not infused with Christ-centered hope.

But that’s what infertile couples need – someone to remind them that the truths of scripture are not for someone else, or for some other time or situation.  They are for us.  Now.

This man’s experience has taught him to focus on managing the downside – tackling the negative emotions and stressful issues inherent in the journey, and getting people prepared to deal with a life that may well be defined by their failure.

Is that practical?  In some ways.  Is it helpful?  I’m not so sure.

Here’s the problem I see… consciously or not, he sends the signal, ‘Your worst fears could be realized; your dream might never come to pass.; God might fail to deliver.’  That’s what he took away from his infertility journey.  But, God never fails us!  He longs to see His perfect will for us fulfilled in our lives.

Then why didn’t God give this man a second child?

I’m convinced that when he and his wife set strict limits on how God could expand their family, they closed doors He may have intended to open:  egg or sperm donation, IUI,  IVF, surrogacy, adoption, foster parenting….  who knows?  It could have been some combination of those, or all of them.

Was it wrong to set those limits?  No, it was their choice to make.  But,  the absence of a second child doesn’t mean God said ‘no’ to them.  They may have been the ones who said ‘no’ to God — by closing every door but one.

God’s permissive will gives us the freedom to close any doors, set any limits, and refuse any alternatives to our own will for ourselves.  But, with that privilege comes the risk that our choices will move us away from His best, instead of toward it.

Is that what happened with this man and his wife?  Only God knows for sure.  But here’s what I know… when we act out of obedience and trust, it honors God.  And scripture says He responds to our faith by drawing near to us and delighting Himself in blessing us.  That kind of interaction with God transforms people in ways that strengthen their faith, fill them with confident hope, and reinvigorate their belief in His faithfulness.

That’s not what I see in this man.  Instead, I see someone who’s made it his business to show infertile couples the long, dark path that he and his wife walked many years ago.  Don’t get me wrong; I think there is a real kindness in his desire to give guidance and comfort.  But God calls us to so much more than a long walk down a dark path.

He calls us into the light.  He calls us to believe that He can do anything.  And He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are willing to put down our lists of terms and conditions, hold out our open hands, and say:

“Lord, I welcome whatever you choose to give, in whatever form you choose to give it.  I know that your will for me is always your very best.  Please help me wait for it patiently, confident in your goodness, and in complete peace.”

 

Here’s What Infertile Couples Want & Need

This is a rerun of my all-time most read and recirculated post.  Share it with someone who has no idea how to help you….

=======================================================

What can you say to the people around you who want to love you through the struggle with infertility, but have no idea what to do or how to help?  Kathleen Parker, an Opinion columnist for the Washington Post, offered guidance in an editorial about gifts….

“Here is giving:  Listening.  Sparing time.  Not interrupting.  Holding that thought.  Leaving the last drop.  Staying home.  Turning it off, whatever it is.  Making eye contact.  Picking it up.  Take the room’s temperature.  Paying attention.  Waiting.”

That’s how you help an infertile couple.  That’s how you love us through this incredibly challenging, frustrating, stressful, heartbreaking journey.  That’s how you stop trying to fix it, and instead, bless us by being fully present in the moment with us.

By listening, not interrupting, holding that thought, and paying attention –  Sometimes, we need to voice confusion or wrestle aloud with our uncertainty.  Don’t give us “the answer.”  That’s patronizing.  If it were simple, we would have figured it out already.  Instead, keep quiet and give us a chance to blow off steam, rant without fearing a reaction, or cry without worrying you can’t take the drama.  Don’t.  Say.  A word.  You’ll be amazed how your attentive silence speaks volumes.

By sparing time, turning it off (whatever it is), taking the room’s temperature, and making eye contact – So much about the struggle with infertility is humbling and demeaning.  Don’t make us beg for your time or attention.  Don’t make us feel something else is more important.  Be attuned to our moods, and when the room’s temperature is too “hot” or “cold,” be sensitive to what that tells you about what we need:  time alone, or a hug?  Eye contact that invites a confidence, or a glance that says, ‘I know you’re hurting’?  Be.  Fully.  Present.  You’ll be amazed how your attentive heart radiates loving support.

By leaving the last drop, staying home, picking it up, and… waiting –  Infertility makes us feel incredibly vulnerable, wounded and fragile.  Your thoughtfulness can be an amazing antidote.  It lifts our spirits without making us feel guilty or indebted.  Don’t make us ask for kindness; we won’t.  Just know that the littlest kindness is magnified a thousand times by our need to feel that someone cares.  It doesn’t take much, and no words are required.  In fact, it’s better if you let your actions speak.  Not sure what to do?  Wait.  Pay attention.  You’ll see an opportunity.  And you’ll be amazed how your attentive action tells us you understand.

Parker concludes, “Do unto others…. The alternative is surely hell.”

That sums it up pretty succinctly.  There are moments along the infertility journey that are hellish.  When there’s no heartbeat on the ultrasound.  When the doctor’s office isn’t calling and the bleeding won’t stop.  When the baby comes too soon and can’t possibly survive.  When it’s time to tell everyone who thought there was a baby, “We lost it.”  When the dream seems to be dying, and hope is barely alive.

In that moment, do unto us as you would want us to do for you.  Would you want privacy?  Give us some.  Would you want kindness?  Extend it.  Would you need a shoulder to cry on?  Offer one.  Would you be angry at the world?  Understand our intense emotions.  Would you need wisdom?  Know that we will seek it when we are ready to internalize it.  Don’t try to force it on us if we don’t ask for it.  You won’t get the response you want.

“Here is giving….”  Parker began.  So, we’ve made it clear.  This is how you help us.  Now that we’ve told you what we need, please give us the gift of love in ways we will gratefully receive.