Yesterday was Mother’s Day. It is a day of celebration. Mostly.
There was a moment in 1989 that changed the course of my life. Doctors informed me that the loss of my ovaries meant that I would be unable to have children. At 19 I did not fully grasp the ramifications of those words.
Fast forward to the end of 1993. I met and eventually fell in love with an amazing man of God. Suddenly, that fateful moment in 1989 collided with the present moment.
Sam loves the Lord with his entire being. As a teenager he committed his life to the ministry. He waited and prayed for God to send him a woman who shared his passion for Jesus, as well as a desire for a life in ministry. He found that in me. Yet somehow...I felt unworthy and flawed.
Questions flooded my mind. What plagued me most; wonderment at Sam’s capacity to accept my inability to bear him children of his own. He loved children. I knew he held the honored position of favorite uncle.
After many discussions, Sam at 22 and me at 27, determined to make several covenants between ourselves and the Lord. We agreed that God had His hand on our lives for a specific and unique purpose. We felt a calling to unite and make an eternal difference in people’s lives. In faith, we agreed to accept my infertility. Sam committed to never hold it against me. And finally, we covenanted to trust the Lord with our hearts and any future grief.
I found it easier to celebrate Mother’s Day as a younger woman. Most in my circle of friends still had Moms to celebrate and had not yet started their own families. Somehow I still fit within a perceived societal norm.
As the years passed, and married friends began their families, my grief activated. I also began to feel silently guilty for being unable to give Sam a family of his own.
Once a day of celebration, Mother’s Day embarked on its descent toward
the dreaded day of humiliation.
As the humiliation and shame flooded my soul, two choices arose. I could either embrace my grief and believe the truth, or be miserable. As odd as it sounds to make a choice toward misery, it is actually the easier choice. I knew this because misery had been my companion over the years. With misery by my side, I believed I could harden my heart, protect myself from future pain, and avoid dealing with uncomfortable feelings and people. And most importantly, it allowed me to bypass dealing honestly with my beliefs about God’s goodness.
I made the difficult choice. I chose to embrace my grief. To feel it. To sit with it.
And, I began my journey toward the truth.
It is difficult to intermingle grief and truth. Truth involves selflessness. I hugged and laughed with friends announcing pregnancies while simultaneously sitting with my sadness. I lavishly celebrated at baby showers while feeling the sting of isolation and pain. I willingly accepted the invitation to place my hand on a friends belly, while feeling the emptiness of my own womb. I expressed my heartfelt “Happy Mother’s Day” to Moms at church, while feeling conspicuously passed over as they all stood to be honored with flowers.
It is anticipated and even the norm for women to bear their own children and become Moms. Really, it is almost expected. As the proverbial biological clock ticks we often hear people counting down the minutes on our behalf. After all, God told Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 1:28). God speaks highly of the family. After all, He did institute it, right?
But please hear me. As infertile women, we are not flawed. We are not lacking. We are not less than. There is no clock ticking in the universe that will time out and somehow prove to us that we have missed our most significant calling. And our families, if instituted through adoption, foster care, or any other unconventional means, are not inferior.
As we sit in that space of embracing life as it is, may we dive deeply into this truth. As women, we share something profoundly more valuable in common. We are all children of God (Galatians 3:26). He made every one of us amazing women in His image (Genesis 1:27). He has a daily plan for our lives (Psalm 139:16).
Dearest woman of God; believe the truth. We have purpose for being here whether or not we ever have children. “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago” (Ephesians 2:10). Notice what it does not say; as Moms you will do this or accomplish that. No, no. A thousand times no.
As a masterpiece, you have been uniquely created with the talent, personality and gifts necessary to do something profound in this world. Whatever. That. Is. You are His daughter. He delights in you.
Do not let the culture dictate your truth or this world influence how you view yourself. God has conferred a value on you that cannot be shaken, stolen, or altered. You are His masterpiece! And it is this truth, that in my infertility, has kept me journeying toward God and not hiding in shame.
I chose to embrace my life as an infertile woman and live into the purposes and plans of God for me. Whatever. They. Might. Be. And during that 16 year season of learning to embody grief, selflessness, and the truth of my worth, God used me to do significant and lasting things in this world. Yes, He is good.
For further reflection see the post entitled The Jesus Room.
