It’s way past their bedtime on a school night, yet giggles seep through the wall to my bedroom. They have separate bedrooms, but sometimes waking hours aren’t enough for these two. I ponder whether I should scold them and remind them of the late hour. I pause, as I’m reminded of other late hours more than 13 years ago. Hours filled with the belief that the laughter of children would never fill the space of my home.
Blood tests, fertility drugs, and endless frustration – that’s what seemed to consume us for a good bit of 1999. Joe and I were married seven years before. We already had three years under our belt of trying “the natural way” to conceive. A visit to a fertility clinic was the logical next step. As if the struggle of infertility itself wasn’t difficult enough, the added appointments, tests and ultimate disappointments were almost more than I could bear.
Within those four years, tears flowed freely – and often. Little things most people wouldn’t even notice stabbed my heart almost daily – a friend who complained incessantly about her children; stories of unwanted teen pregnancies; and endless invitations to friends’ baby showers.
Though I questioned God a lot, I never questioned His love for me. He placed people in our lives who had walked through exactly what we were struggling with. Whether it was a shoulder to cry on, or a quick call to say they were praying for my next doctor’s appointment, our friends and family encouraged us in ways I can never thank them enough for.
After a year of failed fertility treatments, we decided to let go. God had been faithful throughout the past four difficult years, and we knew we could trust Him no matter what. We decided whatever God had planned for us – be it with children or without – we would be ready. That was November of 1999.
On January 2, 2000 a little ‘ol pregnancy test came back positive. Some people say it was because we weren’t so stressed out that we were finally able to get pregnant – that we stopped worrying about it. I believe God’s timing is perfect. When we were truly in a place of surrender to His will for our lives, God gave us our miracle. Our daughter, Peyton, was born in September of 2000. Three years later, we got another sweet girl – Madden.
Over the years, I’ve encountered many women who’ve faced the pain of infertility. My constant prayer is that I can be of some comfort and encouragement to them. I don’t know why difficult times happen, but I believe God’s word tells us we can use those hardships to help others and glorify Him in the process.