From INHERITANCE Issue #5 - March 2010

From the beginning of our marriage, there was no question whether or not we wanted to have children.

However, we had busy professional lives as physicians. We also continued to be active members of our church; together we led Bible studies, taught Sunday School, and discipled college students and young couples. We cherished this time growing and serving together as a couple.

After a few years, our professional lives had calmed and we began to feel that the timing was right to begin to have children. The first few months were filled with our own excitement and anticipation as we awaited the news.

But at the end of each month we received the clear biological negative. A few months went by unanswered and, although we were disappointed with each month, we remained hopeful. Would we have a boy or a girl? Who would he/she look like? How shall we share the news?

Slowly, the months accumulated.

¹Evening and morning and at noon I will pray, and cry aloud, and He shall hear my voice. (Psalms 55:1 NKJV)

The Ache
Meanwhile, we witnessed young couples at our church and our other friends marry and have children. Some pregnancies were planned and others were unexpected; all were welcomed as a blessing, as it should be.

In the beginning, each new birth was a delight to us in which we could wholly share in the excitement. Our fellowship gatherings were filled with lively and enthusiastic conversations about pregnancies, births, diaper changing, feeding, and all-things-baby.

Sage advice was shared, good natured jests were delivered, and everyone was genuinely content.

But when we had reached multiple years of our own unanswered prayers, we began to withdraw. It was increasingly more difficult to sincerely share in the joy of each new pregnancy. Insidiously, a narrow rift opened up and separated “us” from “them.”

As time stretched on, we could feign interest but for shorter and shorter periods of time. So, we gradually and more frequently excused ourselves, politely, and the rift grew into a large and deep chasm.

We wondered aloud, only in private, why we had to endure such heart-rending pain. Each month that passed was marked by a dark red stain — both a biological and symbolic punctuation that was etched upon our minds.

Each Mother’s Day and Father’s Day celebration at church became even more painful to witness.

Meanwhile, young families thrived and conversations dwelled on topics of child-rearing and baby-care. We eventually had to resort to avoidance of our social circles to protect our frail consciences and the prospective of hurting longstanding friendships.

We finally and timidly began extensive work ups at the local infertility clinic. This was decided after many months of prayer searching whether our hearts were too weak to depend solely on God’s grace and sufficiency. Reading books by Christians who had gone through infertility treatments helped. Our physical exams turned up normal, and the infertility remained unexplained.

Next, we proceeded with in-utero insemination (IUI). This procedure required the endurance of oral medications and painful daily injections for one month to prepare the conditions of the womb for artificial insemination.

Each attempt was preceded by optimism and baited expectation. We endured four rounds of IUI. Each a risen hope followed by utter despair; each more devastating than the next.

It was as if we had passed through the mourning of lost children who never physically existed in this world, yet were real in our hearts.

⁵Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God. (Psalms 43:5 NKJV)

The Answer
Our only quietness was meditation upon the Word and remembering the Lord’s promise that His mercy and grace are sufficient. During those years of waiting, we wrestled with God.

Yes, parenthood is a privilege, not a right. We were resigned to our infertility. In fact, we wanted to be content with everything that God had given us, and not focus on this one desire, which He had not given us. We even discussed the idea of a fresh new start; moving to an entirely new city.

At this time, our infertility doctor recommended that we consider in-vitro fertilization (IVF); the “test tube baby” method. We were hesitant and had a lot of questions in our minds.
Is this God’s desire? Are we playing God? If God wants us to be content then why don’t we just stop trying? Something deep within us prompted us to proceed with IVF.

There were tense weeks of oral and injection medications, even more painful than those for the IUIs, to prepare the ovaries for the surgical “harvesting” of eggs. A brief but violent adverse effect (nausea and retching) was experienced immediately during the post-surgical recovery period after the egg-collection procedure.

The moment when sperm met egg occurred in the laboratory; the outcome unpredictable.

A few days of waiting passed before we were notified that three embryos were conceived. Our next decision is how many embryos to transfer into our womb. On one hand, the possibility is high that an embryo could fail to implant or, even if a pregnancy occurs, a miscarriage could ensue.

On the other hand, triplet pregnancies were high risk in that the health of the babies could be endangered. We decided to transfer two. The third embryo was carefully frozen and kept in safe storage.

Two weeks later, we returned to the clinic for a pregnancy blood test. To our utter delight it was positive! However, we were further informed that there was still a significant chance that the child could be miscarried at any moment during the first three months of the pregnancy.

The following weeks were filled with nervous anticipation, hope, and fear.

Later, an ultrasound told us that two embryos were within the womb, twins! Surprise and more hope. Except one day early in the first trimester, bleeding was observed.

We thought the pregnancy was lost. With tears, we waited for the final expulsion of the miscarried child or children. It never came; the children continued to grow. It was well into our second trimester of pregnancy when we were certain enough of the pregnancy that we finally informed our friends.

We thanked the Lord for His great gift. We finally felt the freedom to prepare the children’s room. We found unexpected joy in discussing and receiving advice about parenting and baby-care. God had provided a bridge for us to re-join fellowshipping with other young families.

The birth of our twin girls was a miraculous event. After doctor’s order of four weeks of strict bed rest in the last trimester of the pregnancy, they were born six weeks premature, but healthy. Their infant bodies were so small and fragile, yet they grew and thrived.

There is no day which passes when we do not marvel at how much they have been a blessing. This experience taught us the true value of life. Children are a great privilege, undeserved. We honestly believe it.

¹⁵And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful. (Colossians 3:15 NKJV)

The Long Shadow
One thing remained a shadow on our hearts. One embryo lay in frozen storage. A third child was conceived at the same moment as the twins. We concretely imagined an unborn sister or brother to the twins.

As our twins approached two years old, we anxiously awaited the day to reunite with our last child. We again had to endure injections and medications. The child survived the thawing step, a great accomplishment.

The transfer into the womb followed. Two weeks later, with our hearts full of anticipation, we heard the news we were hoping for.  We were pregnant! Though excited, we were still cautiously optimistic, as we were aware of the possibility of a miscarriage.  We just never imagined that it would hit us so soon.

A follow-up blood test three days later revealed that the embryo had stopped growing. We were heart-broken.

We loved the “frozen baby” that lived in this world for nearly three years, two weeks of which were inside the womb. We were reminded of the fragility of life and how each pregnancy, birth, and the life thereafter is sustained by the power of God.

The medical world insensitively calls this type of miscarriage “chemical” pregnancy, as if a life never existed. We, as Christians, know the truth, that life is present at conception.  Cramping and bleeding ensued as our third child exited the womb. We cried and grieved as if the child were carried to birth and died. In our minds, the child had a face, a heart, a soul, and a name.

We never met the child, but will meet this child in heaven.

Final Remarks
Our hearts go out to couples suffering from infertility. Their longing for a child they’ve never met but desperately ache to hold and call their own is undoubtedly real. Perhaps because the child never physically existed in this world for all to see, an infertile couple’s grief can often be ignored or misunderstood by even well-intended Christians.

May those blessed with children be more sensitive to those struggling with infertility. We’re not saying parents should avoid talking about their children in the presence of infertile couples.

However, parents should probably try NOT to ONLY talk about their children, especially if their attitude about parenthood tends to be one of complaint instead of gratitude to God. As an infertile couple, it pained us extremely when parents, however unknowingly, complained incessantly about their children as if they were unwanted burdens. It was like seeing someone being unappreciative of a valuable gift that you’ve tried so hard to earn but can never get.

We often cherished non-parenting conversational topics such as one’s ministry, work, or travel. It made us feel that we weren’t failures, that God was using us in ways other than through parenthood.

Those who cared and told us they were praying for us also lifted our spirits and undoubtedly were heard by God on our behalf.

We don’t boast to know what all couples with infertility might experience. And, we know that not all couples might choose to proceed with fertility treatment and that not all treatments are successful. That we did not adopt children does not detract from their intrinsic worth.

What we do claim is that God allowed us to bear a season of suffering to teach our hearts and minds to know who is in control — not us, but Him. We find each moment of our children’s lives a special delight. Even in bad days, we are reminded of how God fulfilled the desires of our heart.

We are proud to be parents and thank God for His grace in giving us this honor.