I asked if anyone would be willing to discuss a topic that isn’t easy and share the story of their fertility journey. I have had a very good response from many of you and I’m honored to finally begin presenting some of the stories that have graciously been provided by some wonderful women.
In this series women with different experiences will share the pain and blessings that the gift of fertility carries with it, in the hope of bringing out God’s grace and promise to those couples struggling to welcome this gift when it is not known how it will turn out in a sinful world.
Whether the result be a healthy child, a child who goes almost immediately to be with Christ, or there is no gift of life, all women of child-bearing age wrestle with this cross and the unforeseen works of God that are to come.
While we might envy God’s work in another woman or couple, Christ alone designs the cross appropriately for each. To desire to please God in this sinful world will entail suffering. But there is comfort in knowing we are not alone. There is value in hearing each other stories, that while our paths are different, it is still a struggle of faith, which all God’s children share.
And it is a great comfort to know that God’s love is not found in how many children we are given or have taken from us, but in the saving sacrifice of Christ on the cross and in His glorious resurrection.
This is Leigh’s story.
My mother said she loved children. She wanted lots of them. But she had only two for reasons due to her own depression and anxiety she suffered. She was sure she couldn’t “handle” more than two. She had a boy and a girl, so I guess that was the perfect time to stop. I don’t remember ever talking about children and how many a couple “should have.” I only recently learned that she originally wanted several. My mom’s two sisters each had two children. On my dad’s side, his sister had two and his brother had five. To me, at that time, that was large family.
I never thought about how many children I wanted to have, only that I wanted to have them. I remember watching my mother’s reaction to a friend at church one Sunday when she confided in my mom that she was pregnant. I baby sat for this family and was thrilled that she was expecting number three. My mother gave no congratulations, though, only sympathy. I was confused by that but did not ask for an explanation. My guess is that there were financial strains on the family. My mother also gave a deflated, “Oh no” to me when I called her with the news of baby number three years ago. I was shocked by that. She was thinking of the financial strain on the family and the emotional strain on me, I can only assume. I had a new life growing inside of me! Her grandchild, even! I expected excitement; words of congratulations, not sympathy.
When my husband and I married we talked about having children, that we wanted them, but never specifically how many. I thought three might be nice. A bigger family, by my standards. Maybe even four, but that might be pushing it. But what did “pushing it” mean? Pushing what? Pushing the patience I would have for my children? Pushing the seams on the family wallet? Pushing the size of a home we could have? We never talked about it. We just had an idea that two or three kids would make a good family for us. I never even considered being pregnant beyond three. As if being pregnant more than three times was alien. Strange thoughts.
I did take the Pill and after a couple of years I stopped because we decided it was time to have a baby. God decided otherwise. I could not get pregnant. I tried the popular ovulation drug, the name of which escapes me. I went to a fertility clinic and had many uncomfortable tests done. We went to seminars and started talking about adoption. Friends told me to stop worrying about it. Easier said than done. I remember being on vacation one summer and my husband and I made a decision on where to draw the line. We drew it at IVF. I don’t know what drove us to stop before that procedure, but we were firm about it. We did not want to try IVF. I’m glad we made that decision.
Several years later we were blessed with a pregnancy and we couldn’t have been happier. The pregnancy was a good one and we had a healthy baby boy. But again we waited longer than we wanted with number two. Eventually he came and we rejoiced again. My husband wanted to stop. No more, was his wish. Our home was very small at the time, as was his salary. My emotional state was challenged, to say the least. I was experiencing the same depression my mother suffered. What he was saying made sense to me. We never talked about letting the Lord decide, as He had so obviously done with the first two. But I still had the urge for just one more.
Low and behold I was pregnant before number two was out of diapers. Due to health concerns he was to be delivered by C-section. My husband and I spoke, and decided three should be it.
So I had a tubal at the time number three was delivered.
My stomach flips now, thinking about that. I’ve talked about it, confessed it. But reading it. Reading it makes it final. I have suffered waves of guilt off and on for the past 9 years because of that decision we made together. My husband and I both have experienced the feeling of someone missing from the table, the room, our lives. It’s strange. I wonder who he or she might have been.
The guilt I felt was due to the decision we made in God’s place. We decided we were done having children, rather than letting Him have His way with our family. I was too scared of the possibility, as was my husband, of having more children than we could handle. The guilt was due to a lack of trust in our God, although we did not see it that way at the time.
So for anyone considering the option of having a tubal, or even of your husband having a vasectomy, I would ask that you please pray about it first. Talk about it a lot. Talk about all the possibilities; the possibility of having more, of having none. Talk about the possibility that you might be making God’s decision for Him. Talk about your fears. Because from my experience, that is the only thing that caused us to decide in favor of a tubal for me. Our fear of having more children than we could handle.
From Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans for a hope and a future.” This verse has been a steadying word of comfort for me through so much. As we have children, or don’t have children; as we raise many little ones, or only a few…He has our life plan in His hands. I rely on that fact. I rely on the gifts of salvation each Sunday morning. I rely on God’s forgiveness and His mercy. And I rely on friends who are in similar life situations. We remind one another of God’s goodness. His mercies are new every morning!
As far as the east is from the west, so far have our sins been taken away from us.