I'll admit: I never wanted to talk about it. I didn't even think to consider the possibility. Infertility? No way; not us!
I think they call that denial.
Ya, I was there. For almost two years I denied the possibility of
infertility. I didn't want the label. As the prideful man I am, I didn't
want the stigma (...whatever that means). But reality hurts. Especially
when doctors (plural) shared with us the reality of our situation
packaged in official-sounding medical terms.
"Unexplained infertility."
The
diagnosis was handed down like a judge issuing a guilty verdict. And
like a defendant hearing the words pronounced with such authority, I
immediately began planning my appeal: "We just need to try harder,
more often...or pray more fervently...or take more vitamins...or get
more sleep...or escape the stress and go on vacation...or, or..." I
argued internally. As the prideful man I am, I didn't want the stigma;
but as the prideful man I am, I needed the humility. And of course, God,
the ultimate Judge over all, knew that.
After
some slow learning (which seems to typify more than this one area of my
life), I finally listened to my wife. She had been hinting, suggesting,
and gently prodding for months that we open up about this to more
people who were close to us. But up to that point I don't think we had
told anyone outside of our immediate family that we were struggling to
get pregnant. I still partly disbelieved and partly felt embarrassed. It
was hard enough for me to open up and be so vulnerable with those who
knew me best, even my own family. So why would I want to extend the
circle of vulnerability any wider?
Meanwhile,
with every passing doctors appointment, the internal struggle was
growing. The pain was becoming more and more real for me. I couldn't
just fix this area of my life as if it were a dent in the
drywall. And as much as I hurt, I could see my wife hurting even more.
That's probably what caused me to break. The emotional burden I was
carrying on behalf of both of us was simply more than I could carry on
my own.
In all of this, God was growing me in my dependence upon Him. And so we opened up.
Slowly
we began telling those who were outside our immediate family but still
near and dear to us. We started with our church elders. We met with them
for a time of special prayer since they are those who "keep watch over
our souls (Hebrews 13:17)." And as time went on, we were encouraged to
hear from these men that they were praying for us regularly.
We
continued widening the circle by telling close friends. We had a
handful of dear friends - many of them almost like family to us - now
praying for us regularly, texting us Bible verses, sending us
encouraging notes. I began seeing the trend, the cause-and-effect
relationship between the circumference of the circle and the amount of
prayer and encouragement we received.
So
we widened the circle further to include our church family. Now, I must
admit, this was harder for me. Telling our church meant that a whole
bunch more people who knew us well and who saw us at least once a week
would know one of the most intimate things about our lives. (Or, that's
at least how I thought about it.) And yes, even after opening up and
asking our church body for prayer in this regard, there were those
careless comments from well-meaning folks. But God has provided us the grace to grin and bear it
knowing that this is simply a part of the character-building process. And
ultimately, having our entire church praying for us has truly been a
blessing of tremendous size. (More on this later.)
Finally, we've opened up to others outside of these circles; not necessarily strangers, per se,
but acquaintances providentially placed in our path by God. In doing
this God has given us various resources that we wouldn't have known
about but for sharing our story with someone: doctor recommendations,
treatment options, and just general education about this specific
struggle. Most importantly, perhaps, we've had unique opportunities to
share God's truth, with infertility acting as the conversation starter
for something more meaningful. For example, I recently had a coworker -
knowing what Paige and I are going through because I shared it - comment
to me about how genuine my faith seems as I deal with this difficult
trial. And so God has even used those outside our family, pastors, close
friends, and church body to encourage us and glorify Himself. How
humbling.
Now,
don't get me wrong: I still struggle with talking about this sometimes.
By no means have I found victory over pride. (Is that even possible
this side of glory??) It's hard. Maybe because infertility just isn't
something you hear people talking about very publicly. But it's more
common than realized. According to a Center for Disease Control
study,
1 in 8 couples in the US have trouble getting pregnant or sustaining a
pregnancy. That's not an insignificant amount! And yet here I am still
getting used to talking about such a common issue. May God provide me
with the needed humility, grace, and strength, especially as I seek to
lead my wife and be an example to others.
In
another post I'll share some of the benefits that have come from
opening up about infertility. But for now, if you're struggling with
infertility - or any other trial of life - I encourage you to open up
about it. And if you're a guy - a husband perhaps - get past any remaining denial, man up, and start sharing your struggle! Chances are, you can't fix
it on your own. So get help! Humble yourself and ask others for prayer,
and may the Lord grant you comfort and encouragement.
~David
