Infertility Rears Its Ugly Head

Here I am, a few weeks away from adopting two children, preparing the house, sorting through Olivia's baby items, giving away baby clothes and supplies, all along feeling the ache of infertility tugging at me. Despite of the enormous amount of blessings that surround me, I’ve been hurting. I am not saying I need biological kids to be happy, I’m just saying the loss of control is hard.  Surrender is hard. The thought of the unknown is hard. Infertility has a way of rearing is ugly head when you least expect it.

I want to tell you what infertility feels like sometimes.  It feels like being forgotten.

In Christian circles, women will often reference Hannah as an example of a woman who handled infertility with grace.  Oh how I wish I was more like Hannah.  In 1 Samuel 1:19 it says, “Early the next morning they arose and worshiped before the Lord and then went back to their home at Ramah. Elkanah lay with Hannah his wife, and the Lord remembered her.”  Remembered her?  This is how the Bible tells us she went from barren to being to pregnant- she was remembered by God.

This may not give you the warm fuzzies, but I have to be honest. When I’ve spent so much time praying and crying out to God and the response I hear is silence, it’s hard to rationalize that as anything other than being forgotten.  When I hear about others getting pregnant, I feel that God has forgotten me and my struggle while continuing to hand out children to those he remembers.  When I am feeling really crappy, I ponder on how God even “remembers” teenagers and drug addicts in this way, while He’s busy forgetting me.  I never want to accuse God of being “unfair,” as I learned early on, life is not “fair,” but have I been forgotten?

People will sometimes tell me if I pray harder or fulfill the call to adopt, God will grant me the desires of my heart. I have to confess, I am angered when I come across people who claim if you just had enough faith and prayed the right things, God would give you a child.  I am sure they mean to be helpful, but the implication is if you’re infertile it’s because you’re doing something wrong.  Can you imagine a way to add more pain to an already heartbreaking situation than to say it’s not just your fault physically, but also spiritually?  By that logic it would seem we could also imply anyone who has children has them because they have achieved this magical level of faith, they have finally attained spiritual perfection.

Here’s the takeaway… I know this is how God made me, endometriosis, PCOS and all. He also created my desire to be fruitful.  I can’t say I understand all the reasons why He chose me for this path, but it is incredibly comforting to know He understands how painful this is.  He isn’t surprised by my hurt and frustration, even with the adoption around the corner, it is hard for me to say “this is enough for me.” I feel infertility rearing its ugly head and in these moments I realize this will be a lifelong struggle.  He isn’t angry when I cry out to Him and I know He isn’t disappointed in my lack of faith.  I don’t believe He is waiting for me to say the right magic words or have the perfect amount of faith before answering my prayer and healing my body.

I do think He has put me in this position for a reason.  He wants me to learn something.  Some days I think maybe I know what that is and other days I feel at a loss.  There are times I think He just wants me to be faithful in the waiting and the not knowing.  It’s a hard position for those of us who like answers and love control, but when God puts you in a place of dependency on His grace and wisdom, the only choice is to obey.  Maybe we’ll see the rewards in this life and maybe we won’t.  Either way, God is close to us and is a comfort in our weakness.