The other night some things got real again in the struggle for a baby. I was pseudo-teasing my husband about how he never seems to want to hold other people’s babies. In contrast, I have baby radar - I see a baby, and all I want to do is hold that baby. But he doesn’t seem to want to as often. I asked him, “So are you just less of a baby person and more of a kid person?” He told me, “No, I just want to hold my own baby.” I was caught off guard - he is usually focused on taking care of my ever-changing emotions, and it was a good reminder that this struggle is one we face as a couple.
Later on, he asked me if I was ok. I told him I was sorry for being so moody the last few weeks; I’m just feeling sad. It’s frustrating to see him with kids and see how great he is with them, and not be able to give him his own children. I feel like my body is betraying both of us, like it is unfair to him that the woman he married is having so much trouble getting pregnant. I just never thought it would be this hard.
And if that isn’t enough, now, when I think about getting pregnant, I’m filled with fear about miscarriage. I know the statistics - women with PCOS are highly susceptible to miscarry. I worry that even when I DO finally fall pregnant, that I won’t be able to feel the joy, for the fear of the possibility of losing the baby. PCOS has already robbed me of the natural process of conceiving, now it threatens to rob me of the joy I should get to feel in pregnancy. And what if all I can do is get pregnant, but am never able to carry to term? I don’t know what would be worse - to never be able to conceive, or to conceive and miscarry, - to have life in my womb but never know my child.
I know that God is good. I know that God is mighty. I know that He can heal my body, my hormones, my ovaries with a single word if He so desired. I know he has the power to protect a child He places in my womb if He so chooses. I also know that He is able to soothe and heal my wounds, and has the power to protect me from depression and a spirit of discouragement. It’s hard not knowing which path I am going to walk, which circumstances He is going to lead me through - whether paths of joy and healing, or paths through deep waters. I have no way of knowing if this path of struggle ends with the joy of received healing - like Hannah, like Rachel, like Elizabeth, or if this struggle ends a different way than I expect - like Job. What I do know is that God wants to use my struggle for His glory. But how? In what way will He use this pain? I still struggle to understand HOW He can and will bring good. I have to wrestle with the dissonance between what God is able to do and what God chooses to do. Sometimes He may choose to intervene and save His child from the painful path, and sometimes He may ask me to walk the painful road, testing and refining my faith, His purpose in the pain hidden for now.
I think of Corrie ten Boom - held in Ravensbruck concentration camp, under those cruel and inhuman conditions. Fleas, bitter cold, insufficient food, hard labor, torture - psychological and physical. At any moment, she could have been spared, God could have made it so she didn’t have to go at all. And yet, she walked that road - a road filled with suffering and sorrow. So why? (Not why does God allow suffering at all - that is another subject, perhaps for another time). Why does God sometimes allow His children to travel thorny ways? To experience great grief? When I stop to consider the life of Corrie ten Boom, it is easy to feel sorry for her, to wish away her experiences. But until the end of her life, Corrie saw only what beauty God brought from her pain. Her experiences gave her the greatest treasure of her life - closer fellowship with God. And out of that, countless books, devotionals, motivational speeches - all calling on fellow Christians to fully trust, fully lean on Christ in every moment, every struggle of their lives. These are just a few of the words of wisdom from her incredible life.
“There is no pit so deep, that God’s love is not deeper still.”
“In order to realize the worth of the anchor we need to feel the stress of the storm.”
“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”
The Weaving
“My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily
Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside
Not til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hands
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares
Nothing this truth can dim
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.”
In it all, I continue to hope for healing and a joyous end - a baby in my arms, fruit of my womb. I must learn to walk the road, knowing it is ok to feel pain - to weep, to cry out, to experience sadness. I must learn to walk the road and not let pain become bitterness, or surrender become apathy I don’t know how to walk this path, how to deal with the future hills and valleys. Oh God, I need strength - sufficient for each new day, to walk the road set before me each morning, to trust in You with all my heart, and lean not on my own understanding. I know You are supremely worth knowing, and the my hope is in You no matter my circumstance. No pain will cause me to mistrust Your love, no darkness too deep to cause me to cease seeking Your face.
“I know You’re able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone.
I know the sorrow and I know the hurt
Would all go away if You just say the word
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone.”