infertility

Resource: Loving Your Friend Through Infertility

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It was when I got the phone call from a friend to tell me that they were pregnant that I knew: We’d become “that” couple. This friend was very caring and wanted to tell me personally that they were pregnant before the news his Facebook and got around to Michelle. It was a very thoughtful thing for him to do. Then I had a second friend do the same thing. It was a moment when I was able to affirm to these men that not only was God faithful to us in our struggle with infertility, but I was encouraged by God’s activity in them to be sensitive to the way “who’s pregnant” news can affect people differently. It was a moment when God’s grace was clearly active in my friends’ to lead them to lovingly care for us through our infertility.

Along these lines, Jackie Lopina has written up a stellar series on this subject: Loving Your Friend Through Infertility. I can’t recommend it enough! The series is thoughtful, filled with wisdom, practical, and aimed at the glory of Christ. Jackie writes 20 different “bite sized” posts that reflect careful thought on the issues people experience in walking through infertility. What I appreciate so much here is that she grounds the posts in Scripture, which means she’s always facing Jesus in helping us think through this. She doesn’t want us happy in the end, she wants us resting on Christ – whether that’s in helping a friend through infertility, or walking through it ourselves. Her keen insight on heart issues leads to careful and insightful questions to ask a friend (or your spouse!) struggling with infertility. She knows the pitfalls of the heart on this issue, and offers helpful wisdom on where to go with struggles and how to process difficulties. One aspect that stuck out to me where her posts on prayer (Part 1, 2, & 3) that emphasized great categories of why (because God loves to hear and answer) and what to pray (truth, comfort, joy, guidance and children). She also covers the “well intentioned but not so helpful” things friends will say (1 & 2) in a way that’s illuminating for people who aren’t struggling with infertility, and helpful for those who are in how to process the remarks. The short-sized nature of the posts make these super practical and helpful.

I commend the resource to you! The likelihood is that you either know someone who’s struggling with this, or you will, and Christ has something to speak to them. Jackie helps us see those connections, and for that service, I am deeply grateful.

PS – If you’re interested, I’ve written about our experiences with both infertility and miscarriage on this blog.

- Photo Credit: Nick Galifianakis for The Washington Post

Suffering with Jesus

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It was over two years ago now. I’d gotten a concerned call from Michelle and headed home from work. When I got there, there was even more reason to be upset and confused. The next day we found out we’d miscarried our first pregnancy, but for that evening, we were lost in confusion, pain, and a hint of what was happening.

In those moments, I didn’t know what to do, but I knew we needed to hear from God. In these situations, people typically run to the Psalms. They’re full of perspective and the reality of life in a suffering, fallen world. But I think in my mind that night, I wanted something that was long (because I honestly didn’t want the silence to crush us), and something that put us in God’s story.

After dinner, I turned to John, and we read chapters 13-17, Jesus final discourse with his disciples. Maybe this seems odd as a passage to read for comfort in suffering and pain. At the time it made perfect sense, and it still does.

The section opens with these profound lines about the mind of Jesus going into the crucifixion. John tells us that, “Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, [and] having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” He goes on: “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper.” Jesus knew the pain and confusion of the world – he knew one of his closest friends was going to betray him to death in a matter of hours (under his own permission in fact), but he didn’t flinch, and he didn’t muscle through. Jesus knew that his Father was sovereign and in control of everything, even his own death, and he continued to love. He loved his father, and he loved his own. He loved them to the end.

In this vein, there are three sections that particularly spoke comfort in those dark hours: The Vine, The Victory, and The Prayer.

The Vine
In John 15, Jesus speaks of his union with his believers in such intimate terms that they are his branches, feeding off of his nourishment. In terms of suffering, like a plant, when one part suffers, the others feel it. We typically understand this in terms of other people sympathizing and feeling with us, which is right. But we need to take this back to Christ. When we suffer, Christ does. Being united to Christ means that all that we weather in him is weathered in his love. The paths of love are constantly, ever flowing from Christ to his people in all situations. John Flavel remarks: “Christ and the saints smile and sigh together.”

The Victory
Jesus said, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 17:33). There’s nothing quite like the death of a long anticipated pregnancy to make you feel that the world is full of trial and tribulation. Here, Christ calls us back to seeing his own sufficiency for our need. The sorrow does not win, because Christ who took on the full weight of sorrow and suffering, did not stay dead. This doesn’t mean the pain isn’t real, or lasting, or a wound that won’t go away, but it does mean that there’s hope and peace and comfort in Jesus. Along these lines Paul later comments “[we do] not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thes. 4:13). We grieve, but with hope. I wrote about this after we miscarried here.

The Prayer
The High Priestly prayer of Jesus in John 17 is maybe one of the holiest sections of Scripture. If you want to know the Savior’s heart for you in this world, and in your trials, follow his prayer here. What this prayer did (and does) for me was give perspective. Jesus knows my trial, Jesus loves me and walks with me in my trial, and Jesus wants me to have the best thing at the end of my trial: seeing him face to face in his full, radiant glory. Suffering and sorrow will be swallowed up one day, and this Jesus who “loved me to the end” will see me, and I him, and will heal this heart wounded by the tribulations of this world. One day. One day soon. In the meantime, he has prayed for me to know him and his love, and the best medicine for sorrow and pain is to learn the hope and love that he is for me.

God’s Faithfulness, Infertility, and Miscarriage

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We were recently asked to write up a testimony about our experience through infertility and a miscarriage to encourage our local church. The voice is a little different than my usual writing here. Feel free to comment or share your experience.

We got married in May 2007, just days after we both graduated from college. We loved being married and eagerly anticipated the day when God would give us children. After a year of marriage we began to start trying for children and though we prayed that God would give us a baby soon, month after month went by and we still weren’t pregnant.

While it seemed that everybody around us was getting pregnant and having babies, we were rounding the corner of infertility for over a year, waiting month after month for a gift that God seemed to be withholding indefinitely.

After just over a year we went to a doctor to get everything checked out only to find out that nothing was wrong. We began taking some medicine to help increase our chances of getting pregnant. After a few months of medical assistance, we found out that we were pregnant, in all places, at Disney World. We eagerly shared the news with our close friends and family who had been faithfully praying for us and caring for us. However, when we were six weeks pregnant we miscarried.

These were very difficult days for us. We had stood, mustering up as much joy as we could in watching many receive the very gift of children that we so desired, and when we did receive that gift, God took it away. Why was our Father doing this?

The wound of the infertility and miscarriage was very deep, and those days were very dark. Through this time, the Lord specifically spoke through his Word to comfort us. It began with the preached Word we had heard just the Sunday before our miscarriage that because of our sure hope in Christ, “we do not grieve as those who have no hope”. Our sorrow was bitter because the effects and outfall of sin in the world is bitter. But Christ is a hope-giving Savior, and in many ways the Resurrection became more precious to us, when we would say good-bye to this fallen world and be with Jesus.

The Lord also spoke to us through the Psalms. Through psalms like Psalm 16, 121, 130, 27, 73, the Lord spoke to us not minimizing our suffering, but turning our gaze to Him. It was only through looking at the glory and character of God that we found comfort in that time. Through seeing who Christ is – that he is a loving, caring, gracious, sovereign, all ways faithful God – did we have a standing place amidst the storm and confusion of the sorrow.

And, again, the preached Word was a primary means of grace. As we were working through life after all of this, our pastors preached through Words of Comfort, and through Isaiah 40 we experienced the humbling joy of knowing Christ our great Comforter. Through all of this, God was showing us that though our trial was difficult, God was still faithful because he was the true God who never fails to walk through his people’s trials with them and work their circumstances for their joy.

After losing our baby we decided to continue trying to get pregnant and using the medicine.  After several more unsuccessful months we began praying about whether or not God was calling us to adoption. Even before we got married we have had a heart to adopt, but we assumed that would be when we were a little older and already had some experience as parents. At this point we were still trying to get pregnant, but we knew that we only had another month that we could continue taking the medicine we were using.

As we prayed about this we felt God give us peace, not as to whether we should start the adoption process or not, but peace that he would direct our steps. God was again drawing our attention to himself, to see Christ and know his presence with us, to see God as our faithful God.

As it so happens, we did conceive a healthy baby that month, and welcomed Owen Scott into our family on October 18, 2010.

Owen is a small expression of the hope of Psalm 27 that “We shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” Through this whole trial and journey, we have continually looked upon God’s faithfulness to us. He’s continually drawn us to see Jesus Christ, our Shepherd, King, and Friend. He has continually exposed the idols of our hearts through this so that we might receive the grace of repentance. He has continually given us his Word, both in preaching and in our personal devotions; so that we might know that He is with us. Though the trial was very difficult, God has been faithful. And he will be faithful again.

Thank you.


Pregnancy v. Children?

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A couple months ago, Michelle and I were on a date, talking through life (a normal, weekly practice for us). As usual, pregnancy stuff comes up where we check in and see how each other are doing – struggles, sins, weariness, dreams, longings, evidences of grace, etc. The question had been stirring around my mind for a couple days. I knew it wasn’t, well, the nicest type of question to ask, but it needed to be asked nonetheless. So in the best possible way, I ask the question to Michelle, “So, you know, pregnancy isn’t just about that 9 months, it’s about children after that. Do you think you want to be pregnant more than you want to have children?” The question really opened up an avenue of discussion for us that proved very insightful and helpful.

The question might seem a little odd at first, even callus. But I think it’s a Biblical question to think about. Is the desire for children so wrapped up in “just being pregnant” that the whole aspect of life after the delivery room is a distant mirage?

Pregnancy is, of course, a unique experience like none other. I’ve passed a few kidney stones (the Lord’s thorn in my side – literally – to humble me), but I don’t think that really counts. But in thinking about the building of a family, pregnancy is not the only way a family grows. The distinction is one of categories. The desire for children is one category, the desire to be pregnant is another category. Certainly the two have significant overlap, but we should see them separately ultimately because the desire for children supersedes the desire to be pregnant. A woman is only pregnant for 9 months at a time (and all the women of the world stood up and said, “Praise Jesus!”), but a family continues from generation to generation.

What this distinction does, especially for couples facing the challenge and suffering of infertility, is frees them to consider other options of what growing a family looks like. Infertility is an interesting place where the creeping question sits around, “If we try something else, or look at adoption options, are we not trusting God for children?” That’s a Satanic question. Not trusting God and looking at other options for fulfilling the desire for children are not coterminous. Can a couple pursue adoption as a means of not trusting God? Sure, but let’s keep the issues of the heart separated out on the dissection table.

This category separation has been helpful for us. We are able to see the desire for children as “the goal”, and pregnancy or adoption as “the means”. (This also has the devastating effect of destroying any genetic snobbery one might be harboring.) We desire children. We long for little cute faces running around our home. We look forward to our parents being grandparents. So, for us, the trajectory is looking towards both medical help to conceive, and adoption. We are pursuing both and seeing what God does with this. God loves children, and we know he desires children in our home. However we receive that gift from him is up to him.

The Imago Dei, Infertility, and The Gospel

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I got into a discussion the other day with a friend about infertility regarding an article I sent his way, and he asked the sort of question that one feels awkward asking, but had been on his mind for a while: “So, what’s the big deal anyways?” I can appreciate the blunt honesty here. When thinking about infertility, the idea of infertility being a sorrowful experience seems, well, rather melodramatic.

There are a couple of things going into the question – at least as I’ve worked through it in my heart. For one, in our culture, children are often seen as a hassle. This is amplified all the more if you’re moderately in the DINK category – children, you know, will just get in the way of all that fun you’ll have! Children cry a lot, they stink, they poop, they don’t make money, they drool, etc. (Of course, I do all these things, but as an adult I’ve managed social tricks to hide them… namely looking the other way and being as horrified at the smell as the one next to me.) So, in some ways, if a couple is unable to conceive children, they’re being given a divine hall pass to skip all of these things. God has different plans for them. Maybe they can travel more. Maybe they can go to Disney more often. (Ahem, ahem… I’ll be installing a donation button soon to make these dreams come true.)

However, there’s another angle of approach to the question. For those who’ve never faced infertility (either due to lack of marriage, or ease of fertility), the question comes from a desire to understand a foreign experience. There’s no physical trail to follow, no list of explanations as to why things got to be this way, and some times, just no real reason for why things are the way they are. And yet, there’s a loss, a sorrow, a deep anguish over missing someone you’ve never met that you can’t quiet explain. (The movie Facing the Giants perfectly displays this struggle.)

This is where my friend was coming. He’s a godly man who was asking an honest question; the sort I’ve probed my self with from time to time. This is how I’ve processed the question lately:

The Imago Dei
In the beginning chapters of Genesis, God lays out his creation by the simple utterance of his voice. To crown creation he creates man, but unique from the created order. God creates man in his image (Gen. 1:26). The image of God in man is one of analogy. We speak because God speaks; we think because God thinks; we love because God loves. (Animals, for all their personality, don’t do these things. Especially cats.) As the Psalmist says, “He who planted the ear, does he not hear? He who formed the eye, does he not see?” (Psalm 94:9). Our desires reflect God’sThis imago dei (the image of God) means that we have desires goverened and reflective of God’s desires.

God Loves Life
One thing we can note about God is that he loves life. God is life. The Apostle John tells us about Jesus that, “In him was life, and the life was the light of men” (John 1:4). We see this love of life in God most intensely in the eternal fellowship of the Trinity. The trinity is God loving life. The Father loves the life of the Son; the Son loves the life of the Father; the Spirit expresses and embodies their love of life perfectly.

Therefore, We love life.
Thus, when God created man, he was formed to express this desire of God. Loving life is an expression of the image of God in man. Unlike God, we are not an eternal, self-contained being. When God loves life, he looks to himself for fullest expression and satisfaction of that desire. When we love life and desire to see more of it, the lights get dimmed and we get that little twinkle in our eye. The reason we desire children and families is because God loves life and loves to see life grow and expressed. We love life because God lives life. In this desire, God is glorified.

Thus, for couples who are infertile and barren, the sorrow comes as a sting of the Fall in refusing their inherent God-glorifying desires. Infertility says “No” to a core aspect of what it means for us to say “Yes!” to life. It is right to be sorrowful at this. The God-glorifying response to unmet God-glorifying desires is sorrow. Jesus wept at the effects of the fall at the grave of Lazarus, you should weep at the effects of the fall in a barren womb.

The Gospel
Here’s how the Gospel plays into this. In Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, he makes this statement:

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. (Romans 8:28-29)

This is Paul applying the massive truth of the Gospel to weak people’s lives. I’m weak. More weak than you know. Weaker than the last guy picked for dodge-ball. But Jesus is strong. So strong that he controls everything. The Gospel comes into our weak state and takes all those curses of the Fall (like barrenness) and flips it upside down. Note what Paul says, “all things”. What is the good God has in mind? Being “conformed to the image of his Son”. Not only are we created in God’s image (which we destroyed like a rock to a mirror), but we are now being conformed to the image of his Son. We are being conformed to be God-lovers. Infertility and a barren womb is just as much included in this “all things” as that nasty look I gave Michelle on the way out the door the other morning. All things, yes, even the painful things; especially the painful things. God takes up the tools of our every-day circumstances and widdles them on us to make us look like his Son.

So what does the Gospel say about infertility? It says, “Look to the fertility that God is working in you in your barrenness. There’s fruit here that we wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.” It says that there is a purpose, a Gospel purpose, a Jesus purpose. In barrenness, as sons and daughters of a good God, we do “not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thes. 4:13). We grieve; but we grieve with Jesus.

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