My Infertility Story Part 1 – Departing for the Desert

Unexpected Expectations

In January 2007, over sixteen years ago, my husband, David and I were in a golden age of life. We were in the honeymoon phase of our marriage, and we had great plans for our future that included finishing nursing school, purchasing our first home, and children. Lots of children.  In that precise order. And David’s number was six. Six kids. Despite our best planning, quite unexpectedly, we were confronted with the possibility that we might have become pregnant that month, about six months into our marriage.

This is a 3 part Blog Series of My Infertilty Story

Although children were definitely in our future plans, we were still young and therefore our intentions were to wait a while before expanding our family. We had a well thought out strategy to be prepared before welcoming a baby— we listened to the world that told us all the things that were required for success, much of which revolved around finances. We were in a stable situation, but we were a little anxious about this sudden change of plans.

As it turned out, it was a false alarm. I wasn’t pregnant after all. Yes, we were initially ambivalent about a pregnancy, but we were quickly disappointed when we came to the realization that we were not going to have a baby. So, we changed the blueprint we had so meticulously devised. That very same month we decided to pursue growing our family, thrilled at the prospect of being parents! The irony of our story is that our infertility journey began with the mistaken possibility of an unplanned pregnancy.

David and I eagerly started trying to conceive right away once that decision was made. We absolutely expected to get pregnant quickly and thoughts of delay didn’t cross our minds. We began preparing our lives for an addition with no idea how long it would actually take us to become parents. We brought home a few small nursery items in excitement as we looked forward to the arrival of our newest family member. Our first purchase was a beautiful white bassinet, delicately embroidered with celestial bodies. It was a visual reminder of what we had to look forward to. It wasn’t long before the bassinet found its way to the attic—soon it became a reminder of what we were suddenly missing.

As the months came and went my cycle kept its rhythm bringing a sting of disappointment that started to mount. But every new month brought a fresh hope that this month could be the one. We tried all the methods to enhance fertility. I charted basal body temperatures, took supplements, used ovulation prediction kits of various kinds, and learned all there was about luteal phases and pregnancy. I calculated what our baby’s due date would be if we conceived this time around and considered how it would affect upcoming plans and holidays. We thought of clever ways to announce a pregnancy to those closest to us. To our dismay every test we took was negative and my period continued to arrive right on time every month. Baby showers and birth announcements became reminders of everything we were being denied. Twelve months passed quickly by and added up to a whole year of defeat.

Failing to become pregnant after a year of trying meant that we were facing infertility.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick” ~Proverbs 13:12 ESV

Yielding to the Giver

We had been trying to have a baby for over a year with no success and now we were facing the diagnosis of infertility. We began accepting the fact that we were not going to get pregnant on our own. We had deep discussions, rivers of tears and quivering questions. Pregnancy came so easy for most couples, why was it so hard for us? What were we going to do now? The questions continued to grow right along with our desire for a baby. But month after month only brought more disappointment. The weight of infertility grew heavier, and the pain was nearly unbearable when I wondered if I would ever really be a mother. A childhood dream that I thought every woman should have the chance to fulfill.

During that season of my life my spiritual faith was immature and uncultivated. I believed in God and accepted salvation through his son, Jesus. However, I was not spending much time with God, and I lacked fervor towards Him, mainly because I just didn’t know Him very well. I wasn’t well discipled or disciplined. What I did know was that He could give us a biological child if that was His plan for us. I believed in His power. I also knew that infertility treatments were an option. I wasn’t against infertility treatments, but I truly believed that God had a different plan for us. I wanted to trust God instead of doctors, but it was very difficult. I had to stand firm, albeit shaky, in that decision while I grew my knowledge in my chosen field of healthcare and watched medicine successfully heal. I was at a crossroads in my life and in my faith. I could turn my back on God and be angry at His decision to deny me the right to have a baby while allowing me the strong desire to be a mother. I could rely on medicine and hope for the best. Or I could trust God’s sovereignty. I distinctly remember the moment that I actively trusted God with my infertility. In that moment on the west wing of my nursing station I grabbed hold of my medication cart and shoved it forward as I walked down the hall. Internally I made the declaration that my walk would be with the Lord, and I would not succumb to In-vitro fertilization (IVF) to have a baby. If I was going to be pregnant it would not come through that route. I just could not defend the means to the end on the level of ethics. I gave God my infertility, and it was the first time in my life that I fully submitted my will to His authority in a matter.

I knew that there had to be a reason for God to allow infertility into my life. This could not be an accident. Together, David and I decided what our next steps would be on our journey. We had always planned on being parents and the yearning only grew stronger despite my barrenness. Since pregnancy was not going to be our route to parenthood, adoption was an obvious choice. I envisioned what a happy family looked like and knew that a biological connection to my child was not a requirement. I also knew that adoption was something that aligned with God’s word and that He directs His followers to look after children who are in need of a family.

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” ~James 1:27

Adopting Adoption

Adoption was an easy decision for us. It made perfect sense and we had little to no reservations about it. We eagerly began the research process and learned about the different adoption routes, agencies, requirements, and adoption related issues. We considered every possible type of adoption— foster care, foster to adopt, domestic newborn, international, embryo adoption, etc. We were initially drawn to international adoption, and then to domestic newborn adoption as we contacted nearly every adoption agency that served our area and learned the ins and outs of it all. What we soon discovered from those adoption agencies was that they would not even consider me as a prospective adoptive mother because of my age—I was only 22 at the time. I was repeatedly assured that we would not be chosen to adopt domestically because I was the same age or younger than many of the biological mothers coming in to make adoption plans for their babies. I was also too young to adopt internationally—those rules were not flexible. Aside from my age there was another problem. Adoption through these avenues came with hefty price tags for the agency assistance, paperwork and travel. We needed a minimum of $20,000 to begin adopting domestically and as much as $50,000 to adopt internationally. At twenty-two and twenty-four years old, we just didn’t have that kind of cash available. I was perplexed that there were so many barriers to adopt children who were in such dire need of loving families.

There were only two things that we could do at this point in our journey…save our money and wait until I was old enough to adopt. So, we waited and saved. We waited, saved our money, achieved some of those life goals, stocked our nursery, educated ourselves about adoption and waited some more. We were waiting for my 25th birthday to arrive so that I would be taken seriously by adoption agencies, and it was still a couple of years away.

“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” ~Psalm 27:14 ESV

Follow My Infertility Story to Part 2 HERE. →

Thanks for reading,