My Infertility Story Part 3 – Dancing in the Desert

After the heartbreak of a miscarriage, we found hope in the wake of our tragedy. (If you missed Part 1 or 2 catch up here first before continuing…)

This is a 3 part Blog Series of My Infertilty Story

Meddling in Medicine

After our pregnancy and miscarriage, our desires to experience that joy of pregnancy and to give birth to a child were rekindled. My husband and I went back to the infertility clinic where we had done our initial testing and decided to pursue infertility treatments after all. I remained adamant about not pursuing IVF, a conviction I held firm to regardless of how pressured we felt by the best reproductive specialist in the state. Together, we planned for three rounds of medicated intrauterine insemination (IUI) from a donor and hoped to be pregnant after only one round—rendering the last two unnecessary. If the treatments were successful and we conceived, David and I would not share in the biological makeup of our child. We had decided a long time ago that biology was not the substance that made a family, and we looked forward to the pregnancy and birth experience we would get to share regardless.

After a long, hormonal month of treatments we received the call from the clinic nurse with the test results we had been waiting for… “I’m sorry, you’re not pregnant!” she said. We were discouraged but we reminded each other that we had two more chances as we prepared for another long month. After the last injection was completed for the second round of IUI the following month, we received the same disappointing phone call…

“I’m sorry, you’re not pregnant.”

It was the words that had been continually spoken to me month after month for nearly four years—from nurses, negative pregnancy tests, monthly cycles. That was enough. I was finished with the infertility clinic. I was exhausted, my hope was leaking from the holes they kept putting in my body and our savings for our adoption was gone. I was drained mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially. Infertility will do that to you if you allow it the freedom. It will steal everything you have if you let it. I was not going to. I just knew that God had to have a better plan for us. We canceled our last round of scheduled infertility treatments. I never did the third IUI.

As I reflect back on those long, grueling months of infertility treatments I can clearly see God’s mercy, even in light of the failed outcome. In hindsight I view that time in my life as a regression of my faith. While we were in the midst of treatments, I had an uneasiness in my soul. If I believed in God’s sovereignty then why was I settling, out of desperation, for something less for my life? Although I was initially firm in my decision not to do infertility treatments (specifically IVF), the experience of pregnancy and miscarriage left me wanting more. I decided to go back to the infertility clinic because I wanted a baby more than I trusted in God’s goodness. Although I stood firm in not doing IVF, I still felt I caved by doing IUI. (If you need more explanation of the different procedures check out this post).

As much as I thought I wanted those treatments to work and give us a baby, God knew what I needed even more, and He loved me even when I didn’t deserve his grace. By saying “No” He actually was being merciful to me. He had a better plan for my life and spared me from what I thought I wanted. God is good, even when we are not. He meets us in our deserts and blesses us in ways we never expect. And sometimes that means telling us NO to what we are asking so He can tell us YES to something better.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” ~Romans 8:28 ESV

Barren for the Orphan

So, the infertility treatments failed us, our adoption savings were gone, and we finally began to pray again. I had no one else to turn to but God. I handed my infertility over to Him again and asked Him to use it for good. My prayers changed as I no longer asked Him to heal my infertility (although I still believed He could), but instead I begged Him to use my situation for His good. I asked Him not to let the struggle and the pain I had endured be for nothing. I asked for His guidance and received His forgiveness. He used my hopelessness to draw me to Him and revealed Himself to me as a loving Father who had a plan for my life. One who didn’t make mistakes. What I learned was that the emptiness in my heart could not be filled with a child, only God could fill that space in my heart. Anything else was simply an idol that distracted my attention from the Lord. As my faith grew, my life started becoming less about what I wanted and more about what I could do with what I was given. I began to desire what God had purposed for my life (Psalm 37:4). I still longed to be a mother, but a greater desire for children grew in my heart. Instead of yearning for a child of my own, I ached for the children who didn’t have anyone.

The Lord used my desire and heart for children as a means of grace to open my eyes to the many children in our world, even in our own community who needed love. They needed what I wanted so badly to give. It was a different kind of desire than the desire to adopt a child; it was an urge to be there for a child, setting my own needs aside. When we initially set out to learn about adoption, the intention of our hearts (although noble) was in a sense, selfish. We wanted to adopt so that we could be parents. I noticed that those intentions were being realigned as our focus shifted away from meeting our own personal needs to selflessly offering ourselves to any child who needed us. It probably looked the same on the surface to others, but internally it was God working on our barren hearts for his greater purpose. He had a plan for us as His servants. Our God is a loving Father who loves and cares tenderly for orphans—and for the barren woman.

“Give justice to the weak and fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.” ~Psalm 82:3 ESV

Ultimately, David and I desired to adopt a child into our family, but foremost we wanted to use our experiences to make a difference. We wanted to welcome children into our lives who were in need of a safe home and unconditional love, resources that we had been blessed with and wanted to offer freely. We knew that taking care of children in need was close to the heart of God (James 1:27). So, we contacted our local department of social services and began an ominous journey into the foster care system that blessed us in ways we never imagined. We chose not to dwell on our pain, but instead to cooperate with God’s plan to use our infertility for His good purposes. My infertility story does not end here because through fostering and adopting—over the next thirteen years—I would remain barren. Infertility became my friend. Pregnancy loss continued to follow me at unexpected times throughout the journey.  I have yet to birth a biological child. I will be infertile until either the Lord opens my womb, or He brings me home to meet my lost children. In the meantime, I have mothering to do with those He has blessed me with while I was in the desert. He kept His promise.

“He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children. Praise the Lord! ” ~Psalm 113:9 ESV

Follow along Our Foster Care and Adoption Journey here →

(If you missed any of My Infertility Story (a 3 part blog series), you can find it here)

Thanks for reading!

Living Blessed in Barren Places,