Gasping for air

I had an appointment with my fertility specialist.  She reminded me of some previous tests.

Cystic fibrosis and a rare disease, I can’t recall the name currently.  

Thankfully Frank and I don’t share the same recessive traits, at least for the sequences tested.  These are the countless screenings you endure while being poked and prodded, filling syringes to find out why a womb remains empty.  Even if you never wanted to know, it’s part of the procedure.  You will learn about the dormant genes that threaten to take the life you are trying so hard to create.  

Then again, we have a God who performs miracles.  Science can say what it wants, the supernatural still defies it.  Medicine said the chances were slim for conception, that our best bet for offspring would be an IVF.

The risk of IVF is that if it doesn’t keep then you are out 10-20k, possibly more.  Most have an oops night and nine months later their trying to contain the shock.  Those with the faulty plumbing invest in their kids even before there is a child to go to college.  The barren ones help pay the bills for the reckless, those of the broken barrier trial, and the planned zygote while they grieve, bearing the heavy weight of a formless babe.  

We had the answered prayer…and then it was lost.   We got the wind knocked out of us.  

Now we sit here trying to pick up the pieces of shattered hearts.  We clutch our chests as our lungs fill with over-bearing grief.  Another prayer is uttered, a plea not to choke.  There is begging in our whispers, a cry that we’d continue to function.  

He’s transplanting fear with trust, weaning fleshly desire to the nourishment of a gospel filled nation.  He’s the physician giving us oxygen.  May we use this breath to spread his gospel rather than heaving sighs, breaking body and bank.  

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4 Replies to “Gasping for air”

  1. I’m so sorry for your loss.

    Infertility sucks. We had one child exactly how we planned, one child we struggled to concieve to the point where I grieved the baby I never thought I’d have and started going in for tests to be sure there wasn’t something wrong with me (and then she came with a horrible pregnancy and colic and all I could do was praise God), and one baby who was a surprise. And it wasn’t until the third that I looked back to see God’s hand all along.

    My friend had an “oops” moment and gave that child to a couple who had survived cancer. My aunt was infertile and adopted three foster children so she could keep the two day old baby put in her care (they were all siblings). I remember thinking as a kid that she was the super fun aunt until she had kids. My other aunt never married, never had kids, and dotes on mine every chance she gets.

    There are so many ways to become a mother. Miscarrying is a terrible way because you’re a mother for so short a time and then grieving. I’ve been praying that God has peace for you and that his plan for you as a mother isn’t complete yet.

    1. Thank you so much Angela. I love the phrase, “God’s plan for you as a mother isn’t complete yet.” I’ve wondered if Frank and I are supposed to start an orphanage somewhere.

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