The Gift

One of my friends lost his 16 year old son yesterday in a car accident.  We all know there are things in life that just shouldn't happen:  the child dying before the parent, the parent dying while the child is young.  Horrible, heart-shattering events that everyone worries about, and prays never happen.  I don't know what I would do in such a situation, how I would react, cope.  Ever since I heard the news of this young boy's death, the same story keeps running through my mind and I wanted to share it.  I can't credit where I heard the story.  I only remember the point of the story, none of the details.  I've searched online and asked a few friends if they've ever heard it.  If you have, and you know where it originated, please share.

The story goes something like this:

A day comes that a woman's daughter is taken by death.  The child is young, say 6 years old.  The mother cries out to God "Lord! Why have you taken my beloved child from me?"  The Lord comes to her gently, "It was my child's time to come home to me."  The mother repeats: "But why, Lord? Why would you make me want this child so badly?  Why would you give me time to love my daughter so completely?  Why would you take my beloved child from me?"  And God says to her "If I had told you before placing this child in your womb that you would love the girl, that she would be your greatest joy; and then I had told you that I would take her away after 6 years, would you have asked me to not give you the child at all?  If you knew?"  The mother thinks for a minute, too stunned to respond at first.  "No, Lord.  If I had known I could only have my child for 6 years, I would have gladly taken your gift.  I would have cherished every moment I had with my daughter.  I would never have chosen to deny the joy of my child only to avoid the pain of returning her to you."  To which God replies softly, "This is why, my child."

I'm sure I've retold the story with a definite lack of something, but you get the gist.  When I found out I was pregnant with my eldest daughter after having 2 miscarriages, I was reminded of this story.  I told everyone I was pregnant right away, even though there was a chance I would not be able to keep this pregnancy either.  I wanted to cherish every moment I had with her, even if I never saw her face.  Even if God called her home before I could meet her, I knew I wanted this experience.  And I'm sure that my friend and his wife who lost their young son would feel the same.  I hope they find peace and comfort in knowing they would not have denied the joy he brought them if they had known he would go home to God so soon.  May God bless and soothe these parents and the family of this boy in this time of deep sorrow.

In search of Fertility

When my husband and I decided we’d like to have a baby, it certainly didn’t come easy.  It’s all kind of hazy now, but I think we were about a year or so in trying when I went to the doctor for help.  See, I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome).  For many women, PCOS means infertility – for me too.  I wasn’t ovulating, or as I liked to refer to it, “my parts don’t work”.  So, Doctor O. promptly put me on Clomid and we got pregnant on the second or third cycle of this.  A pregnancy that ended just as promptly at 5 weeks.  Of course, I was sad, but I had read up on the treatment and knew that miscarriages are likely both with PCOS and with Clomid usage.  Plus, many women miscarry early on like that, so no worries – let’s try again. 

The second miscarriage was devastating. 

            Two in a row was not common. 

                             Two in a row was punishment. 

Maybe God didn’t think I deserved to have a baby. 

Doctor O. didn’t want to waste any more time: I was already in my 30’s, so I was referred to a reproductive endocrinologist – Dr. G.  Specialists don’t just put you on a medication, they do extensive testing.  Testing which revealed I was not immune to rubella, so I had to be vaccinated and wait another 3 months before trying to conceive.  We discovered I had endometriosis, among other surgically corrected issues, any of which could be causing the problems.  And top it off with a “rare genetic defect” of MTHFR, a mutation that causes one to not absorb folate (essential to the fetus), leading to miscarriages, still-births, birth defects, etc.  Hmmm. 

Maybe God didn’t want me to have a baby?  Then I thought: if that were true, He wouldn’t make me want one so deeply.  And He wouldn’t have guided me to a job years earlier at a Catholic organization (where I would have health insurance that covered all of these tests and fertility treatments.) 

So, on we went - I injected myself with drugs to make me produce follicles, drugs to make me ovulate, and after timed intercourse, drugs to prevent blood clots.  I had multiple invasive ultrasounds to monitor my follicle production.  If there weren’t enough large follicles, then more waiting and more injections.  Around the third cycle, Doctor G. started talking IUI (intra-uterine insemination).  He said that beyond 4 cycles of what we were doing, the success rate was extremely low.  Randy and I had decided early on that we didn’t want to push things that far – if we couldn’t get pregnant without resorting to IUI or IVF, then we would stop trying.  

This cycle was strange – I started the injections without my period (if you don’t ovulate, you don’t always get a period, so the doctors would just start you over growing new follicles.)  Then about a week in of injections, my period came suddenly.  Doctor G. had me start my injections over (they were in increasing dosages).  When the follicle check came, there was only one viable follicle.  Defeat.  I insisted we go ahead with the injection to force ovulation anyway since it was our last cycle.  And… two weeks later, we found an embryo!  Success!  I went back to work that day, and I told everyone I was pregnant again.  Most of my friends knew about my previous miscarriages, and were surprised and concerned that I would make announcements so soon.  But I told them “I don’t care if I’m pregnant for only four or five weeks again – I’m going to enjoy every second of it while it lasts!”  Baby Lauren was delivered by c-section (no easy birth either, of course) five days after my 35^th birthday – 38 weeks, healthy and strong!

My point in sharing all this: 

God is good!  He will lead you to where you need to be, when you need to be there.  I gave everything over to Him with that last cycle.  I would have been heartbroken to have had another miscarriage – no doubt.  But I truly did relish my pregnancy (at least until the last month – who really enjoys being as big as house and peeing her pants?)  And I knew that God would take me where I needed to be, even if that wasn’t to being this baby’s mother.