Infertility

When October comes each year, I watch the dates on my calendar. The days arrive slowly, in order. The day I miscarried the first time, followed by Annie’s birthday. She would have been six this year if we had been able to bring her home. Slicing grief that still stings. Grief that is muffled by…

I just wanted to know how long. That was my biggest question. How long would I be barren? Was this a lifetime thing? Or was it just a season? Did I need to completely shut down my hopes and dreams for a baby? Or was it okay to hold onto hope? For eleven years I…

Soon after our baby arrived I began hearing it. I was lucky. Lucky that my story ended with a baby. Lucky that I was able to birth a miracle. Lucky that I didn’t carry the harshness of infertility forever. Nobody meant it in a superstitious way. They meant it in the traditional use of the…

The fact that I’m pregnant after almost twelve years of infertility still shocks me every morning.  I wake up, move to stand, and groan a bit because my hips ache like I spent too long horseback riding, and then the steady thump of this tiny baby’s fists or feet cause my breath to catch hard. …

For years I read the story of Hannah in I Samuel with a slightly miffed attitude. I know some people read her story and feel encouraged, hopeful. After all, Hannah was barren, oppressed, taunted– and God heard her cry and opened her womb. Not just once, but six times. Hope, right? Except for me, I…

<< This post is part of the blog series The Christian Woman’s Guide to Infertility: Finding Hope and Healing even without a Baby. >> Infertility Doesn’t Define My Heart I started babysitting when I was ten years old. We lived in Alaska, at a Bible School, and our neighbors had three girls. A three year old,…