The Pain and Brokenness of Infertility–Part 4

Originally Posted on Tuesday, May 31st, 2011

To wrap up this look at infertility and the heartache and brokenness it can cause…I’ll return to author Marlo Schalesky and another piece she kindly shared with me. She writes her story about a miracle pregnancy after years of infertility. I hesitated at first to post this one knowing that for some…hearing how another finally conceived is the furthest thing from comfort — yet for others — the hope this piece shares might be comforting.
Ultimately some are called to be biological parents, and others may be called to foster or adopt. At a worship leader conference a while back we had a speaker that really challenged us saying (something to this effect), ” In the end — will God care how pretty your music was, or how great your sound was inside the 4 walls of the church? Or will he want to know what you did for the homeless across the street, the children without mothers, the widowed, and the weak?” That same speaker went on to share an alarming and fascinating statistic about adoption and orphans. He said that if just 7% of the people that claim to be born-again Christians would adopt 1 child, there would be no more orphans on this earth. WOW! That opened my eyes.
Anyway…here is the piece from Marlo.
————————————————-

Pregnant At 40 — Marlo Schalesky

I laughed. Out loud. I couldn’t help it. Because for most of my adult life I’ve been dealing with infertility. So, after twenty years of never being able to have a baby without extensive medical intervention, it seemed silly to be asked about birth control. But that’s exactly what my doctor did. And I laughed at her.
“No, I won’t be needing that,” I said.
She scribbled on my chart. “Are you sure?”
Oh, I was sure all right. I’d spent my first five years of marriage not getting pregnant, followed by fifteen more years undergoing infertility treatments. A few treatments were successful, resulting in four wonderful little girls. Most treatments, however, were not.
And now, after four final treatment cycles, I was done. It was over. All the frozen embryos were used up. The bank account was dry, and I had turned forty. We had such hopes that one of the final embryos would become a baby. The girls had prayed and prayed for a little brother. But after all those years on the infertility journey, the end had come with a series of difficult miscarriages and not the prayed-for baby. So, no, I didn’t need any birth control. Hardly. The chances of me getting pregnant without treatment were just about zero.
Or so I thought.
Because God had other plans.
I would discover those plans six weeks later with a home pregnancy test that I was certain would be negative. My husband, Bryan, was outside driving his tractor when I took the test. I stared in disbelief as two lines appeared in the test window. Positive. Unbelievable. I ran out to the yard and flagged Bryan down on his tractor. He shut off the engine.
“You aren’t going to believe this.” I waved the white test stick in his direction.
He took it from me. “That can’t be right.”
“I know.”
“Call the doctor.”
I did. This time, she laughed at me. And seven and a half months later, right on time, we had a beautiful baby boy. A miracle baby who was not part of my plans, but was always a part of God’s.
Funny thing was, our miracle baby wasn’t the final answer to my infertility; rather, he was the confirmation of what I had learned through it. What God said to the Israelites in Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV) is the same thing He says to me in my journey: “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” I’ve learned to read this verse with the emphasis on I. God knows His plans for me, even when I don’t see them, don’t understand them, can’t fathom the answer to the question of “why.” And the plans are His plans, not mine.
After all, I never planned on infertility. I expected to get married and have kids, no problem, just like everyone else I knew. But God’s plan was to lead me down a different road to show me truths about Himself that I would have never seen otherwise. Through the longing for a baby, I learned that I must yearn for God more. Through month after month of trying and failing, I learned that I’m not the god of my life, He is. There are things I cannot control, cannot achieve, no matter how hard I try. Through prayers that went unanswered, I learned I couldn’t measure God’s love for me based on my circumstances.
But most of all, God showed me how to pry my white-knuckled fingers off my own hopes and dreams for my life in order to embrace His dreams, His vision for who I am. He taught me to live the life He has given me, with love and hope, even when it’s not the life I dreamed. He taught me to choose to love anyway, to believe anyway, to trust anyway.
Now, as I sit and play peek-a-boo with a new baby boy, as I gaze into his tiny face, as I change tiny diapers and tickle a tiny tummy, I remember to embrace the road God has me on, because He sees what’s ahead even when I don’t. I remember that God is full of surprises, and purpose. All I have to do is trust Him, and follow Him on the path He lays out for my life. For He says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways… As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways …,” (Isaiah 55:8-9 NIV) even when His ways include infertility, or a miracle baby given when all hope for “baby brother” seems lost.
————————————————-
I’m so thankful for the personal messages I’ve received from many of you — and for Marlo’s willingness to share. Please know that I’d love to hear and possibly share your story — whether it relates to infertility or not. And I hope these last couple verses linger with you like they did me as another reminder that:
Our God is greater, our God is stronger
God you are higher than any other
Our God is healer, awesome in power
Our God, our God