Hands full and loving it- beating infertility

cropped-image3.jpg I know what it’s like to be told you cannot have children. It’s ‘the end’,  the credits begin rolling but yet no story has even been told.

To see your friends and family members  year after year becoming parents. Having to force a smile and forcibly evict the word ‘congratulations’ from your mouth, while holding back tears.  The thing is, I was happy for them and loved every child they bore. The problem was me. It was as though there was a supply of babies being handed out by God and not one seemed to have my name on it. Not one was going to call me mum.  Not one was going to need me. Having a 3hr surgery for endometriosis and your consultant telling you it’s the worst case she’s ever seen. My ovaries were fused to my womb, scar tissue from years of misdiagnosis, ovarian cysts, ‘chocolate cysts’, adhesions, fibroids you name it. I was suffering.  It was so painful, I began to limp.

So how am I now 10 years later the mother  of 3 healthy children and with another on the way. I have laughed at every positive pregnancy test! Won’t God do it! I wasn’t married when I became a mother and that brought a lot of talk and a lot of scandal to the small, traditional Pentecostal church I then attended and led worship at. However by that point though their actions deeply affected me. I purposed in my heart that my joy would not be stolen. I had fallen short, but my God had given me beauty for ashes.

You see I Had a father in Heaven who knew my name and my shortcomings I couldn’t let it steal my happiness because I knew that I had been healed! This was my time to celebrate. Endometriosis didn’t have the last laugh! I did. God did. We all did.

When I went into surgery for the purpose of clearing up all the damage, approximately 2 years prior to me getting pregnant for the first time.  I had only been scheduled for keyhole surgery but when they stuck that camera through the opening they had made above my navel to perform a straightforward laparoscopy they immediately stitched the incision back up and went into full surgery mode, so bad and severe was the damage from the endometriosis. Before I went under one of the theatre nurses leant down to my ear and whispered “don’t worry you will have children”.. I couldn’t respond I could hardly see her as the anaesthetic kicked in. But I heard her and her words to this day fly like a banner in my heart.  I always wondered if I imagined her or whether it was God speaking…

My consultant warned me as she stood by my bed, pressure stockings and catheter in place and my mind still reeling from all that had only hours before taken place, that if I was to have any success of pregnancy following the surgery I would need to conceive within 6 months or consider IVF. Well my first marriage was deteriorating by this point even though he was by my side throughout the ordeal, the 6 month time frame seemed impossible and it would actually be 3 years later that I actually conceived my first child. The scar I carry, I don’t even notice much anymore, much like the memory of my infertility it has faded over the years.

My 3 children and the one kicking me right now in my once damaged womb as I type don’t yet know the miracles they are, how desperately wanted they were, how I obsessed about them before I knew them and how I loved them before any proof of their existence.

To anyone believing God for a child. Keep the faith and trust Him, remember His plans for you are for good and not for evil… And remember that whatever happens kids or no kids you are not any less a woman, you have not failed still trust Him, still Worship Him. He makes no mistakes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s