Dear Mother Yet-To-Be,

I can hear the ache in your heart. It echos loudly in mine -

because I was once a mother yet-to-be.

I understand the longing unfulfilled, the questions, the pain. You wonder why you’ve yet to be chosen. . .chosen to lavish love on another like only you could. You wonder why you must wait while countless others go before you.

Oh how I understand. How I know the deep well of longing that often drowns all other aspects of life.

Your heart begs to know. . .What is so wrong with wanting to love with a mother love? How could this request go unnoticed. . . unanswered for so long?

You find yourself treading the path of bitterness and empathy yet you fight to keep your joy…

your peace…

your hope.

Oh dear mother yet-to-be, if I could I would kneel down to where you are, hold your face gently in the cup of my hands and wipe away your longing tears. I would whisper softly. . .

Mothers aren’t chosen. They are born.

They are born the moment a woman begins to long for life.

And as the Heavenly Father begins to fill your heart with hope, I would boldly say. . .

Stand.

Stand up dear mother. Stand up and fight for your family.

Let His faithful heart of favor reveal His plan for your children. . .

Then rise up with your mother heart and walk in confidence to contend for what is yet t0 be.

Because it will be.

{This post is part of the Mother Letters link up. I encourage you to check out this beautiful and powerful book written by several amazing mothers with a heart to minister to YOU and me.}

{No, we are not closing the blog or taking the book off the shelves. Keep reading and you’ll see exactly what “shop” I’m closing up this year.}

My sweet miracle boy

As I write this, I am sitting in Dr. Rupe’s office waiting for a procedure that will permanently prevent me from becoming pregnant again. It seems oddly monumental to be putting an end to my season of infertility and child bearing. After all of the longing and waiting and struggle, it’s almost ironic to be “closing up shop” as I like to say.

I hope that this post does not create controversy. I’m simply sharing my story, not trying to posture my beliefs on birth control and pregnancy prevention. It’s an extremely personal decision that should be deeply covered in prayer. My husband and I feel very peaceful about our decision. We believe the Lord has completed our biological family (we are open to adoption in the future) and with my history of miscarriage, it feels almost irresponsible for me to get pregnant by surprise. So we are taking the steps we feel led to take in order to close this chapter of our lives and peacefully move forward.

Part of me is excited to move on…to put all of the energy I used to spend on hoping and praying for children into loving and leading them. Yet, there’s a part of my heart that is grieving…the hope, the excitement and the joy of new life. Never again will I feel those tiny baby flutters inside my belly. Never again will I experience the breathtaking miracle of childbirth. As long as it took to travel this road and as hard as the journey was, in hindsight it was a mere blink of the eye.

“So as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ our comfort also overflows.” 2 Corinthians 1:5

My dad and I were talking this morning about how suffering was built into the cross of Christ. It was part of his story and thus it is part of ours. But the purpose of our suffering is to bring deeper intimacy with Jesus. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again…I often miss the sweetness that came with the sorrow of infertility and loss. It drew me so close to Jesus. As I stand here, at a major crossroad of my adult life I pray that I can take what I’ve learned about suffering and carry it with me through every season ahead of me. In those moments when I feel like a mothering failure…when I think my children will never “get it”…someday if I lose a loved one…or if we hit a financial hardship…may I allow the reality of his presence to carry me through. Whatever it takes to keep me desperately clinging to him, that I will joyfully bear.

Thank you for allowing me to share my journey so openly here. It’s been wonderfully therapeutic to get it all out in the blogosphere and I feel like I’ve been surrounded by a community of women – some on a similar journey and some on an altogether different path – all cheering me on from the sidelines. I pray this blog does the same for all of you no matter where you are. We are in this together and once we are on the other side of child-bearing, we can hopefully walk together in child-rearing {Man, do I need support there! And I thought getting pregnant was hard…}.

My deepest desire for this blog is to use what he has taught me through this journey to love and support all of you. I am committed to hearing from him on all he has for me to share in the future. But that does NOT mean we will stop talking about infertility, miscarriage and trying to conceive. That is part of both my and Dr. Rupe’s hearts and stories and it’s a large part of the reason we wrote the book and started this ministry. I suppose this post is a bit self-indulgent. I just felt I needed to express my innermost thoughts and utmost gratitude to you, my Pregnancy Companion community. Thank you again for walking with me.

Looking forward to where he leads next,

Jessica

With all of my patients, as they enter the third trimester, I discuss what their contraceptive plans are for after the baby is born.

Many smile a beautiful, blissful, glowingly pregnant smile and say, “Oh no. I don’t think we will ever use contraception again.  Hopefully we will get pregnant again right away!”

Fast forward to their postpartum visit. A sleep deprived, exhausted new mom sits before me. Her first topic of conversation: contraception.  While she is madly in love with her new baby, the thought of having another right away is a little overwhelming. She is not physically ready to go down that road again.

Some women are ready right away. I once had a women ask me at delivery when she could try for another baby. My answer, “Well, you at least have to wait for me to get the placenta out!”

The decision on when to try for your next child, obviously depends on many factors. Finances, age, personal goals and beliefs on contraception are just a few. I was recently asked on our FB page what the ideal timing between pregnancies is from a medical stand point. According to studies looking at pregnancy outcomes, it is best to conceive 18 months to 4 years after your last delivery.

I find it interesting that the ‘optimal’ time for conception of the next child is about 18 months since this is when children are truly at their most adorable. Full of toothy grins and giggles as they toddle around.  This stage of ultimate cuteness entices people to have another baby. They then proceed to conceive before their child hits the ‘terrific twos.’ Which while adorable, at least in my house, is a challenging time.

Pregnancies conceived less than 18 months since the last delivery have an increased risk of preterm delivery and low birth weight. Pregnancy takes a lot out of your body, and it takes time for a woman to recover from the stress and for her nutrient supplies to get back to normal. The theory is that the body has not fully recovered at less than 18 months causing the baby’s extra risk of not growing as well (low birth weight). The risk of preterm delivery is further amplified in teens who conceive again quickly, since teens have often used their nutritional supplies on their own growth as well as their baby’s.

VBAC: Women who attempted a trial of labor after a cesarean section have an increased risk of uterine rupture if the pregnancies are less than 18 months apart.

Pregnancies conceived less than 12 months since the last delivery have an increased rate of placental abnormalities, such as placenta previa and placental abruption. Placenta previa is a condition where the placenta covers the opening of the cervix making vaginal delivery unsafe and increasing the risk of hemorrhage. Placental abruption occurs when the placenta begins to detach from the uterus before the baby is delivered.  It can result in hemorrhage and fetal distress.

Pregnancies conceived less than 6 months from delivery have an increased rate of neural tube defects and autism. Neural tube defect is associated with low maternal folate levels, so most likely in pregnancies less than 6 months apart, the mother has not had time to fully replenish those supplies.

Pregnancies conceived greater than 4 years from the last delivery  have an increased rate of preeclampsia, fetal growth restriction and cesarean section. It is unsure why this increased risk is seen other than the possible health changes in the mom over this time.

The actual ‘increased risk’ in each of the cases is statistically significant but overall low for the average woman. Take preterm delivery, the risk increase with conceiving early is 20%. For the average mom with no history of preterm birth, this changes her risk from 1% to 1.2%, which is negligible. However, a woman with a previous preterm delivery sees her risk go from 15% to 18%. These increased risks are most significant for those moms who already have risk factors for these conditions.

For the average healthy mom with no medical problems and a vaginal delivery, the increased risks of these complications with conceiving again soon are extremely low. Women with a cesarean section should wait 18 months for their scar to fully heal, especially if they desire a trial of labor (VBAC). Those with a history of pregnancy complications listed above are advised to wait the suggested interval before conceiving.

Lots of prayer and being on the same page with your spouse should be at the forefront when you are making the decision on when to have another child. But knowing the medical facts is equally important for making sure you are ready – both body and mind – to grow your family.

From a practical standpoint, we’d love to hear from our readers who have multiple children on how the timing worked for you.

Many of you already know my story but I had the great privilege to guest post for my friend Shelley Hendrix this week, sharing how hope changed everything in my life. Shelley is the lovely brains and heart behind Church 4 Chicks, a wonderful ministry to women in the Atlanta area. God is doing great things through her ministry and you may be able to find Church 4 Chicks in your area sometime soon. We’ll also be seeing other things from Shelley like a brand new book coming in the next year. I’ll be sure to tell you about it when the book is available.

Hope Changes Everything

My daughter’s name is Hope . . . because her life came after a season of longing, waiting, suffering and loss. I had always wanted children and I suppose I thought my mere desire would lead to its reality. I never imagined I would have to contend for something that God created me to be – a mother. After being diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), I knew my journey to motherhood would be longer than the average girl. Two years and two miscarriages later, Hope was born.

Through the process I learned so much about my relationship with Christ. Although I did not want to imagine going through anything worse than I had been through, I remember feeling a sense that this was preparing me for some greater trial.

We simply don’t know what the Lord is going to require of us. . .

{Hop on over to www.shelleyhendrix.org to read more. . .}

Our Family

Last week Dr. Rupe asked if she could do a post about my delivery. She wasn’t sure if I would have time in these first few, crazy weeks to blog about Joshua’s birth. I was excited to read her point of view on the day’s events and I believe she captured it perfectly (with one exception, according to his birth certificate, he was actually born at 4:56pm, not 4:57 but close enough). I’m sitting here in the stillness of my living room. . .filled with diapers and wipes, baby gear and antibacterial gel, and one, little, precious, sleeping baby boy (Hope is at mother’s day out today) so I thought I would take this quiet time to also reflect on my son’s birth. Thank you for allowing me to be self-indulgent on this blog. As I’ve mentioned before, I abandoned my personal blog (which had become a sort of journal for me) to focus on The Pregnancy Companion so I appreciate you letting me share my heart here on personal experiences. At least they are pregnancy related.

As Dr. Rupe said, on Saturday morning, July 2 I texted her because I thought my water had broken. It’s important to note that I was already 4cm dilated and 70% effaced at my last appointment so I had reason to suspect I might go into labor at any moment. Since I was induced last time, I had no idea what going into labor would actually feel like. I was apprehensive about my water breaking spontaneously. So many friends had different stories to tell but many said it was more like a leak than a gush of fluid. They also said it merely felt like they pee’d in their pants a little bit. Having done that before during my pregnancy (you can read that story and how it led to the creation of this book here) I just wasn’t sure I’d know the difference. I woke up Saturday morning and decided to take a shower and get ready, just in case. I felt like it might be the day because I was having mild but pretty regular contractions the night before. As I stood in the shower drying off, I felt some leaking. Could this be my water leaking or did I just pee on myself again? I got out and got dressed and as I was doing my hair, it happened again. But this time it was greater. I felt like I had total control of my bladder so I decided this was it. I texted Dr. Rupe to let her know. She told me to come on in.

We arrived at the hospital and they hooked me up. My amazing nurse, Rachel eventually checked me and said my water had in fact not broken as there was no presence of amniotic fluid that they could detect. I was, however, having pretty regular contractions so she would call Dr. Rupe to see what she wanted to do. I knew the U2 concert was just hours away and I told myself if I was going to have this baby and not ruin her evening with Bono, that I had to be in labor by 10am. We were a bit past my personal deadline and as much as I was ready to have this baby, I was sure Dr. Rupe would send me home to wait for more active labor to begin. To my surprise she decided to go ahead and put me on Pitocin as I was in the early stages of labor. She must have known it was a risk. . .that I might not deliver quite fast enough for her to make it to see U2, but my sweet friend and physician also knew that if she sent me home, I might just end up back there that night. We were definitely rolling the dice!

I’ll spare you the details because she explained them very well. Pitocin started. Contractions kicked in. Water broken for real this time with a giant knitting needle (and when done this way it’s a HUGE gush, I don’t mind telling you). Epidural ordered. Contractions picking up. Epidural in but not working. Epidural dosed up. Finally some relief (for about an hour, enough time to watch one episode of Friday Night Lights, my new addiction). Finally dilated to 7. Nurse assures me it will go quickly now. I’m hoping to deliver by 6 or 6:30 but I know that’s pushing it.

As I entered transition (roughly 7-10cm dilation), the epidural wore off on my right side. They had me laying on my side so gravity could do it’s work but still no relief. My left side was dead to the world (due to all of the extra doses) but the right felt everything. For that hour between 7-10cm (the nurse was right, it did go fast thank you Jesus), I felt the pain and pressure of every intense contraction. I was not prepared to labor like that but my nurse and my husband were amazing coaches. They kept trying to get the epidural to fully kick in but no luck. Finally, Rachel announced it was time to get ready to start pushing. Dr. Rupe wasn’t yet in the room and I hoped after all this she didn’t miss it. I felt like he could come quickly. I was incredibly nervous about pushing a baby out without a working epidural. This is not what I had signed up for! As they got ready to position me Dr. Rupe walked in the room and I was so relieved to see her. The nurses got me on my back and almost immediately I felt a rush of peace come over my body. I felt so relaxed and the pain on my right side disappeared. I truly believe that Christ’s power rested on me in that delivery room (2 Cor 12:9, from chp 8 in the book). After 10 minutes and 3 rounds of pushing (through three contractions), I finally saw my baby boy. Miraculous.

I’ll add to Dr. Rupe’s list, the last five years have also included:

about 75 ultrasounds

7 HCG shots

amazing provision for the countless checks written to a fertility clinic

thousands of tears of loss and pain

a million petitions for life and a family

a deep, deep friendship born out of longing and hope

and now, a complete family with one spirited, beautiful little girl and a sweet, new baby boy. Oh how we are blessed beyond comprehension. And if I could go back and rewrite my story to remove the waiting, the loss, the emotional and financial burden and still have the same outcome – I would not. I truly believe the processes God allows us to walk through in our lives shape us and mold us into the people he intends for us to be. I know he wept with us along the way and now rejoices in our dreams fulfilled. I am so thankful he entrusted us with this story and I hope I can encourage others as they continue to allow him to write their own.

Thank you all for sharing this journey with me.

Love,

Jessica

Infertility Myth: If you already have one child, you know you are fertile and will have no problems conceiving again.

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I am sharing my story to bust a common myth about infertility and hopefully encourage those that are currently fighting for family.  It is also my heart’s desire to open the eyes of those that did not endure such a fight so they can be better equipped to support and encourage women that are struggling to become mothers. Infertility is often taken too lightly by those that do not understand its pain. Whether a woman is believing for baby #1, #2 or #4, the realization that your body will not do what it was created to do and your dream of a child (or another child) may never come true is devastating. But there is hope. . .

It was the same month my husband had finally agreed to start trying. I received a call from my OB/GYN with the news. . .I had a hormone imbalance (as she simply put it) and it would be hard to conceive. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We have drugs for that.” Not knowing nearly as much as I know now, I didn’t want to hear about drugs. I didn’t want to have to take drugs to make a baby. How unnatural! I hung up the phone and cried. What do I do now?

The battle began.

A few weeks later I discovered that a new member of my church small group was an OB/GYN. I boldly asked her if she would look at my test results. She said it looked like PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) and told me she’d be happy to see me if I wanted to look further into it. This was more information and support than I had received from my current physician so I was anxious to make the switch. Thus began my incredibly encouraging and fruitful relationship with Dr. Rupe.

Within 4 months of first seeing Dr. Rupe, I had conceived with no fertility drugs (just the use of Metformin, which has been known to help regulate the hormones that become imbalanced with PCOS patients).  We were thrilled. At 7 weeks however, even after seeing a heartbeat, I miscarried our first baby. And then we were devastated.

The battle continued.

After much thought and prayer, my husband and I decided we would try fertility drugs (specifically Clomid) as they were pretty successful in helping women with PCOS conceive. The cost was low and the side effects were minimal. As I wrestled with the idea of not conceiving naturally, a good friend said to me, “When you believe it’s time to start a family, you do everything you can to fight for that family.” I knew this was part of our fight. Within 5 cycles, I had conceived again. And we were thrilled. . .again. This time, I made it through 8 weeks with a good ultrasound and strong heartbeat. But when we went in for our 12 week ultrasound there was no heartbeat. The baby had died around 8 1/2 weeks and we never knew it. This time I had to have a D&C which enabled us to test the baby and discover she had Turner Syndrome (one of the most common abnormalities that cause miscarriage).

And the battle raged on. Should I continue to fight?

At this point my doctor advised that I see a fertility specialist since I had experienced multiple miscarriages. We made an appointment immediately and after our first cycle with Clomid, close follicular monitoring and an HCG shot, we conceived again. Nine months later our daughter Hope was born.

I went back on the pill after having Hope because the pill helps regulate PCOS symptoms. We decided we’d wait a few years and go off the pill a few months before trying for baby #2. I believed what everyone said. . .

If you already have one child, you know you are fertile (or can get fertile) and will have no problems conceiving again.

I suppose that was true for us to some extent. We started Clomid in December and conceived in February. Almost immediately after seeing the positive pregnancy test, I began to bleed and knew I was miscarrying again. This time I didn’t have time to become attached to the idea but it was still hard. How could this happen to me again?

We grieved and the battle continued. Was this a new battle or were we still fighting the same one?

I waited for my cycle to start so I could begin another round of Clomid. Four weeks later I began to have very serious pain in my abdomen. I thought perhaps it was just indigestion but it seemed too severe for that. After passing out twice, my husband took me to the ER. They performed a thorough ultrasound and discovered an Ectopic pregnancy. I had conceived twins. One miscarried around 4 weeks and the other continued to grow in my right fallopian tube. The tube had ruptured and I was bleeding internally. I had emergency surgery in which they had to remove the tube. As if conceiving wasn’t hard enough before, now it had to happen with even more obstacles.

The battle grows. Were we supposed to have another child?

Four months later when I was released to try again, I returned to the fertility clinic and continued on Clomid. We knew I needed to produce eggs in my left ovary as that was the side with a tube. Each month for 4 cycles I produced 1 or 2 eggs on the left side. We were so happy my body was cooperating. We decided to do IUI for these cycles to increase our chances of conceiving. But each time we were met with disappointing news. It didn’t work, despite all of our ducks being in a row. I went in for my follicular ultrasound on the 5th cycle and to my surprise, I hadn’t produced any eggs on either side. This had never happened to me. Was it over? Was I out of eggs? The doctor explained we could try more aggressive measures such as injectables and IVF. It’s not that I was opposed to any of those measures. At this point I believed in any and all measures that could be taken to conceive and that the good Lord above, that I so intimately trust, had provided these measures for miracles to come to us. But we couldn’t afford it and I was weary, very weary. I left the office fighting back tears as I checked out at the front desk. Then, the sweet girl there let me know some of my insurance that I thought had gone through actually had not and I owed $800. $800 for treatments I knew hadn’t worked. Why not just flush the money down the toilet?!

Fighting, fighting, fighting.

Right before I walked out the doctor suggested a step-up Clomid protocol that they had been trying recently. He would give me Clomid again, immediately to see if I responded mid-cycle. I was not hopeful but took the prescription and headed to the pharmacy. Two weeks later I returned for monitoring and they discovered I had two big, fat eggs. . .on my right side. The doctor told me to go home and tell him when I got my period. I would not be getting pregnant this month. That evening I had dinner with two dear friends, one of which was my OB, Dr. Rupe. I explained what happened and Dr. Rupe said, “I believe this is the month for you. It can happen. Those tubes can flop around in there.” I knew it wasn’t likely but because my friend (and ironically my physician) said it was possible, I was filled with more hope than I’d had in months.

And the battled continued. . .with hope.

A few weeks later I reluctantly took a pregnancy test, expecting a negative result. To our surprise, we saw double pink lines. I was pregnant from eggs that somehow made it to where they needed to go.

A miracle. A battle won.

I am now 29 weeks along with this miracle boy. Looking back I never could have imagined he would come to us in such an amazing way. It’s not true what they say. . .that once you’ve had a baby, you won’t have trouble conceiving again. But you should have hope.

The truth is we never know what story is being written for our family.

Click here for more information about the battle of infertility: RESOLVE.ORG. Click here for more information about National Infertility Awareness Week.

Still fighting,

Jessica

I hope you all were encouraged by Dr. Rupe’s amazing adoption story. I lived through it with her yet I still get chills every time we talk about it. What an amazing reminder that sometimes the Lord allows us to wait for things so that he will get the most glory when it finally comes about the way he chooses. What a miracle story!

Speaking of miracles. . .Remember how I was believing that I would conceive this month even though, medically it was a long shot? The main reason I felt the grace to believe for such a thing was because of the faith of a friend. A couple of weeks ago I met Heather (sorry, I just can’t call her Dr. Rupe when talking so personally about our friendship) and our friend Donna for dinner. It was right after the appointment I wrote about where my eggs were on the wrong side (remember I only have one tube after my ectopic pregnancy) and I was asked to pay out the wazooo for fertility treatments that didn’t work. I was at a low point on my journey and I truly felt like I wanted to give up. I shared the update with Donna and Heather. Both were very sweet and encouraging but it was Heather’s response that changed everything. Here she was. . .not only my friend but my doctor as well and she said, “That’s no big deal. Your tubes can flop around. I really feel like this is THE month.” Did my OB really just tell me that maybe I could conceive against all odds? It was like a shot in the arm. . .both the reassurance of the slight medical possibility and my sweet friend believing when I didn’t think I could believe any longer.

I left that dinner feeling so hopeful. More hopeful than I had been when the eggs where on the right side. So I began to pray and ask the Lord for the near impossible (but not completely impossible according to my doc). I started to realize that if he did allow me conceive against the odds like this, it would surely bring more glory to him. Having a story like that would make all the waiting and the pain worth it.

So this is it. . .the post I’ve been waiting all year to write. I am pregnant!! Although we remain guarded having been through all we’ve been through in the past, our main hurdle has been cleared: that little bugger safely made it to my uterus (as was confirmed on an early ultrasound yesterday). I’m only 5 weeks along and perhaps I’m crazy to be sharing this news so soon but I feel like you all have walked faithfully with me through this journey so I’m committed to share all of it with you. I appreciate your prayers as we wait in hope for the next milestones: hearing a heartbeat in a week or so and getting through the first trimester. We are guarded yet we believe that he will be faithful to continue this miracle.

So once again I am reminded that sometimes he asks us to wait for things so he can bring them about his way. I am truly honored that he would use me and my story to bring glory to himself.

May you see his glory in your own life this season.
Love,

I am so excited that Heather is going to share her adoption story this month. You will not believe this amazing story. It’s wonderfully ironic (or maybe it’s providential) that she would be sharing about her adoption now. I wouldn’t dare steal her thunder and share any specifics but I will say their adoption process was a long and tiring road (much like the one I am traveling now) yet it ended in a complete, God-ordained, you-don’t-even-see-this-in-the-movies sort of way.

Two weeks ago I went back to the doctor to see if the additional drugs they gave me worked. They did. They worked so well I had two, great, big eggs on my right side. . .the one with no tube. When the tech gave me the news, I didn’t know if I wanted to curse or cry. That stupid ovary hadn’t produced ANY eggs for the past 4 months. And now that I’m at my whit’s end, it gives me two giant ones that will surely go to waste in the abyss of my tubeless, right abdomen?!? Pretty quickly after my initial disappointment, I felt a huge rush of peace. I just wanted to laugh. The doctor told me this month would probably be a bust but you never know. We proceeded to make plans for my next cycle.

When I told Dr. Rupe, she said she would pray that my fallopian tubes would flop around this month so perhaps the left one would catch one of those eggs. As crazy as it sounded, I began to hope and pray, knowing that it would be just like the Lord to do something crazy like allow me to conceive against all odds.

Now don’t get too excited. This is not the “I’m Pregnant!” post that I’ve been longing to write all year. I’ll actually find out this week though if I am. I have the most renewed sense of faith as I wait. I know that I’m probably not pregnant. It would truly be a miracle if I was. But I’ve not stopped asking him to do the unthinkable. I’ve not stopped believing that he surely could. And remembering Heather’s crazy adoption story reminds me that he can. If he chooses not to, then he has something else in mind for the next chapter of my story. I will simply pray for grace and provision as I wait for it to be revealed.

I’m praying that each of you will be filled with crazy faith this week. . .no matter what that means for you and your story.

Love,

I have been faced with several medical mysteries lately, that I haven’t been able to solve. Unlike shows like House, not all medical symptoms fit together in perfect pieces to give you a tidy diagnosis, that gets solved with a simple prescription. Most often, what I am able to do is make sure that nothing serious is going on, and give the body time to heal itself. Other times, specialist appointments or second opinions will be obtained. It’s often frustrating to the patient to not have the benefit of a specific diagnosis. It’s frustrating to me as the physician, as well… because OBVIOUSLY the doctor is supposed to know everything and fix everything? Right? Duh.

I think that spiritually the same thing happens. I am working on a series of posts to tell the story of my adoption journey. Much like Jessica’s current journey, it was not smooth. Even, knowing the magnificent ending to the story, as I sift through the details, I find myself again questioning the “why’s.” I try to fill in the diagnosis and find the reasons for the different things I had to go through.

Some of the diagnoses are not so obvious, much like in medicine. Bladder pain? Peeing all the time? Must be a UTI. Wait, but what happens when the urine culture comes back negative and the symptoms get worse? Sufferer through a loss? Must need to learn God’s faithfulness and sovereignty! Wait it happened AGAIN and AGAIN? But I learned that lesson already God? I don’t understand?

I asked Jessica over dinner the other night, “has your fertility specialist tried Yada, Yada, Yada….” Yes, she says. Hmmm, I scrunch my ever wrinkling forehead, as I try to think desperately of ways that I could “fix” her. I know this is something I don’t understand spiritually or medically. I know there will most likely not be a TV ending, where the intern discovers some rare insect bite* on Jessica’s toe that caused the problem all along! “A simple salve is all we need GOSH DARN IT,” I say and then we all laugh, hug and see a healthy baby in the next scene.

No, not likely.

But I will continue to stand with Jessica in faith that she will conceive. I believe soon. I will do my best not try to “fix” her, but to be there for her as a friend and support.

I don’t know that there always is a reason or a ‘diagnosis’ and that’s one of the hardest things to accept sometimes.

*There is no insect bite that causes infertility (you wouldn’t think I’d have to say that, but people believe everything they read on the internet)

Yesterday was one of the worst days I’ve had in a really, long time. I went to the fertility clinic for my routine day 17 follicular ultrasound only to find many, small, defunct eggs in my ovaries. This has never happened to me which means the fertility drugs aren’t working anymore. I held back tears as I met with the doctor who told me they would try additional meds to see if they could get these eggs going. If not, we’d need to move to more “aggressive measures.” He might as well have said, “If not, we’ll need to look at mortgaging your house if you want to have another child.”

I fought the tears that wanted so badly to cover my face and sat down to check out only to discover that the provision of God that I had proclaimed as a result of my insurance company oddly covering the cost of my ultrasounds, was not in fact provision but a mistake. And I was handed a bill for $600. Do you know what it feels like to pay for fertility treatments AFTER you already know they didn’t work? I wanted to throw up.

I ran to my car so that no one would see me when I lost it. I closed the door and did just that. I thought I was going to hyperventilate.

Why does it have to be so hard Lord? Isn’t the desire to have and raise children a Godly one? Why have you chosen not to intervene? Why won’t you have mercy on us?

When I pulled it together I found the strength to read the materials the doctor had given me about these “more aggressive” measures. Injectable fertility drugs and close monitoring for about $3000-$5000 a month (and they say it takes an average of 3-6 months for it to work). OR we go straight to IVF for $12,000-$15,000.

And then I cried some more.

Seriously, Lord?! Do you really want us to spend this kind of money for a life that we know comes from you anyway? WHY OH WHY Lord have you not intervened? Have we heard you wrong? Are we not supposed to have another biological child?

I spent the better part of the day and night angry and bitter. I’m not ashamed to admit that I had these responses. The burdens on my heart are many (there are several others I have yet to share) so yes, I am at the end of my rope and it makes me angry from time to time.

My husband prayed over us before we went to bed and although I still felt like I wanted to scream, it allowed my heart and mind to rest a bit.

This morning I awoke with fresh peace and perspective. Thank the Lord that his mercies are new every morning. I’m still disappointed and confused and overwhelmed by the decisions we have to make, but as I read Jesus Calling over breakfast I was reminded that I cannot face the circumstances that come to me unless I remain in his presence. As mother’s and women in general, no matter what we are facing we won’t make it unless we invite him in and hold him close. I can yell and scream and shake my fist at God but the moment I picture his precious and sacrificial son sitting next to me or wiping away my tears, my anger turns into raw and honest love.

I am asking him for new mercies. I think one of the things I wrote in the book in the chapter on miscarriage and loss is “Ask the Lord for strength to get through the day and then ask again tomorrow.” I guess I should take my own advice. I have no idea what his will is regarding our family. I am trying my best to take it one step at a time. I know he’s already intimately familiar with the story that is unfolding before us. I just have to trust he’ll lead us through this crossroads. I appreciate your prayers as we seek him.

Love,