To Maralee, who was just diagnosed with infertility

Dear Maralee (who was just diagnosed with infertility),

It’s almost Mother’s Day and that has me thinking about you. About the difficult days and weeks and months after you were told that getting pregnant would likely be impossible for you. I know hearing those test results was devastating. I also know in some way it felt like relief. You’d been carrying around this invisible burden and each time someone said, “Just relax and it will happen” or “You’re so young! Don’t worry about it!” you felt so invalidated. Here in black and white was the validation you never wanted for all those worries and sleepless nights. Here you are, just 22 years-old and married for just a year and your worst fears are coming true. The doctors say you’ll never know what it feels like to grow a life inside your body. And what is motherhood if not getting pregnant and giving birth to your flesh and blood? Your world feels like it’s crumbling.

I know since you were little you “just” wanted to be a mom. You wanted a house full of kids and you married a man who wanted the same thing. When pregnancy didn’t happen as quickly as you wanted, you got a job as houseparents to boys who needed a family. You love them deeply and if they could be your own children, you’d sign the papers and jump at the chance. But the reality is that they have families. Struggling, dysfunctional, desperate families who can’t see how badly these boys need permanency and stability, not just a safe temporary home. So from first thing in the morning until you crawl exhausted into bed you pour yourself into these boys and love them with all you have in you, knowing they are somebody else’s babies. And then when your head hits the pillow, the tears come.

You ask God why he’s withholding something so good from you when he gives it freely to others who don’t even appreciate it. You wonder if you married the wrong man and if a different marriage for both of you would have been fruitful. You try to imagine what you could do differently— a change in diet or exercise or meditation or acupuncture or chiropractic care or a new doctor or a vacation or WHATEVER would make this baby happen. You read all the books and do whatever they say in the hopes that the next idea will be the one that works. You ask previously infertile couples what worked for them and hope they’ve discovered the magic trick that will work for you, too. You try to let go of all this desire and frustration because maybe that really IS what’s making this so difficult. You try to trick God into thinking you’re letting go of your hope for a baby because maybe if you do, he’ll let you have one.

And beautiful parts of your private life become calculated and anxiety ridden. In an ultimate act of humiliation you are forced to write down intimate details of your marriage and bring them to doctor appointments to prove that you really are doing this right and it still isn’t working. You are emotionally and physically laid bare before doctor after doctor who starts off with hopeful promises and then ends in a sales pitch for procedures you can’t afford and feel ethically sketchy about. It feels like a never ending process of dashed hopes and grief and despair that repeats on a monthly basis.

But I promise you, Maralee— the end of that cycle is coming. And the journey is worth it.

When I think back to you and the pain you’re living in, I wish you could have one moment to glimpse the joy that is coming for you. The overwhelming happiness of your life. If you could see this family it all its messy, chaotic, loud, realness you wouldn’t shed one more tear over your childlessness except to be sad that there are still years between you and this rowdy bunch. God didn’t give you a desire for children to mock you or punish you. He gave you a desire for children because he’s going to ask you to do big things to cross the divide from grief and barrenness to life and family.

Maralee, you can’t even begin to imagine the children that are waiting for you. Your dreams for a family aren’t big enough. While you’re begging and bargaining with God for just one healthy pregnancy, you have no idea that his plan for you is much bigger. No, pregnancy won’t come quickly or easily and won’t be without heartache, but it is coming. And woman, don’t spend one more night with your hips propped up on pillows or planning out in advance when your best chances for pregnancy would be. Pregnancy is coming in the months you weren’t expecting it. And you don’t even yet know the full story of how impossible the doctors are sure it is. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but the better that’s coming is going to stun everybody. Nobody will be more stunned than you.

But Maralee, long before you see that positive pregnancy test you will become a mother. Your barrenness won’t be solved with a pill or a procedure. You are going to become a mother in a hot, dimly lit office building in West Africa and you will never be the same. You will never doubt the rightness of how your family was built. In spite of your fears of rejection, that baby will know you are his mother from the minute he is placed in your arms. While you didn’t adopt as a bandaid for your infertility, his presence in your life will fill a hole that was deeper than you even knew. It won’t take long before you can’t imagine life without him and I kid you not, you will THANK GOD for your infertility because it meant this child entered your life.

I know it seems crazy, but after the adoption of that first child, the kids will just keep coming. His adoption will take so long and cost so much, you’ll be sure you’ll only be able to have a small family. But that isn’t God’s plan. Over the past six years five children have come into this family with one more on the way. You will be abundantly blessed beyond your expectations. And it’s because of the pain you’re going through now that you’ll truly understand how blessed you are.

I know infertility for a woman who so loves children seems like a cruel joke, but I wish you could see it for what it is. It is an opportunity for God to make you into the woman he wants you to be. If you could get pregnant easily, you’d be certain that’s because God shows favor on people who follow the rules. Trust me, you would be an obnoxious person to be around and this humbling in your life and your theology is truly necessary. If you could get pregnant easily, you would miss out on the blessings of the beautiful foster and adopted kids God wants to bring into your home. If you could get pregnant easily, you might feel anger and frustration when you found out you were unexpectedly pregnant with a sixth child instead of understanding what a gift this is (even if it does feel totally overwhelming). If you could get pregnant easily, you would have never seen the world outside your front door— the African mother who loved her son but couldn’t care for him, the women in poverty and abuse who need love and a safe place for their babies while they try to change their lives, children who need advocates, a system that needs reforming, a foster and adoptive community to invest in and be fed by. If you could get pregnant easily, you might have had predictable kids who behave the way you want them to. That would make you an insufferable parent to be around and you wouldn’t even know it.

Maralee, I know this infertility diagnosis feels like a death sentence on your dreams. And that’s okay. Some dreams need to die to make way for the reality which is bigger and more beautiful that you could imagine. Be patient during this grieving time with yourself and with others. Your story is not the same as anyone’s story who has gone before you. People who want to offer you comfort may tell you stories that don’t sound comforting to you at all. Stories about women who finally get pregnant after 15 years of “trying.” Women who find fulfillment in things outside of motherhood. Even stories of families built through adoption are hard to process when you’re dealing with the grief of a body that has failed you. Keep loving the people who tell you these stories. They mean well and they don’t know what to say and you know that you don’t know what you want them to say either.

And give yourself grace. While beauty waits for you on the other side, you are not on the other side yet. If you need to stay away from baby showers for awhile, it’s okay. The emotional toll it takes on you may not be worth it. If you need to throw out the temperature charting and cancel that appointment with the specialist, it’s okay. Taking a break is good for your soul and good for your marriage. If you need to cry and rage, let yourself. Don’t let bitterness take root because you didn’t allow yourself room to deal with the difficult emotions. And if you need to skip church on Mother’s Day to avoid all the mom honoring, DO IT. Trying to tough it out in situations that are breaking your heart may not make you stronger, they may just be sucking the life out of you.

The journey of infertility is hard. It is a continual process of dashed hopes with frightening regularity. I know what you want more than anything is to control that roller coaster and make it do what you want. Let me assure you, your intermittent fertility and your lack of control will always be a frustration, but God is working through it to humble you and bless you. This infertility thing is a gift I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies, but I wouldn’t trade for the world. I know you can’t see it that way yet, but the day is coming. It’s coming faster than you think.

Love Always,

Maralee

(who has mothered 17 group home boys, 3 adopted children, 1 foster child, 1 biological child, 2 babies in heaven, and is pregnant)