My Infertility Story

By Ann Marie Atlow -     Atlanta, Georgia  

When I was asked if I would share my infertility story, I was hesitant because I have three wonderful stepchildren, two of whom are married, and eight amazing grandchildren. The outcome of my struggle is a full family. Though I have no DNA match with any of them, they are still my beautiful family.

 Recently, when I went for a pelvic ultrasound for an ovarian cancer screening, the technician told me she also had never been able to experience a pregnancy. And though she was at a point of contentment as well, I realized that we who have struggled with infertility can encourage each other as a community with our stories. We let each other know that we understand and that we are not alone.

Each one of us has a different set of circumstances and, despite the similarities, no two journeys are the same. We are like a quilt with different patches, but we all form part of the same quilt.

So, despite having been “grafted” into a family, I have a story too; here it is.

I became a disciple at the age of 20, and despite continually experiencing endometrial issues, I kept dreaming of having children one day. I did not marry until the age of 33; waiting to marry that brother in Christ was so worth the wait! Since my mother had birthed both my sister and me after the age of 35 and my sister had two healthy full-term pregnancies despite her own endometrial issues, I was confident that I too would have children of my own.

For most of my adult life I had had heavier-than-usual bleeding. I was sent for tests — a laparoscopy and multiple pelvic ultrasounds. They always returned the same verdict: a perfect-looking uterus with no signs of distressing trouble.

One spring day I had my first late period as a wife and rejoiced! As I watched the blossoms appear around me, I thought of what was blossoming inside of me. And then my period came. And so did the tears, as I realized there had been no life forming within me.

This pattern continued for two and a half years: late periods, sometimes accompanied by nausea and vomiting, with no happy result. I designed a nursery in my mind and discussed names with my husband because it was the step of faith that I thought we needed as we continued to pray.

What’s next

When I turned 36, my obstetrician/gynecologist, my husband and I decided it was time for the “what’s next” chat. My grandmother had had uterine cancer at my age and gave birth to a son who died of leukemia at 10 months, and I could not ignore the possible genetic link. Despite more pelvic ultrasounds and an MRI, the mystery behind my inability to conceive remained. As my husband and I prayed for God to guide this doctor, he advised that we should do a partial hysterectomy.

It was the fall of 2008. My father had died very unexpectedly in January and my mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in June. I decided to approach this clinically, and I left my emotions to the side because it was too much to bear all at once. We scheduled the surgery for January 2009, and I earnestly prayed for a Christmas miracle.

On December 20^th, God said no. My last period came, and I briefly wept. We had my mother visiting from out of town and I chose to focus on what would be her last visit with us before life in a nursing home. I had no time to really process; I just kept forging on with my pre-op appointments.

The surgery, thankfully, went well. Weeks later, I had a post-op appointment where the surgeon discussed the pathology report. To my surprise and relief, he told me that my “perfect-looking” uterus was filled with fibroids deeply embedded within the lining of the uterus. They were undetectable to everyone, except to the pathologist and to God.

It had been a challenge to have some people ask me prior to my surgery why I didn’t continue trying to get pregnant if I had enough faith that God can make anything happen. The pathology report showed me that God, through the surgeon, gave me the guidance I did not want but certainly needed. Those fibroids could have developed into cancer, and I was grateful, even though it was so hard, to have had this surgery end the threat.

Death of a dream

I had tremendous support around me before and after surgery from my family, church family and friends. I didn’t understand the difficulty with my emotions that followed when I finally began to process them, and after many months, realized that we all had treated this as surgery. What no one, including myself, understood was that it was the death of a dream. And it needed to be grieved.

No matter how much I had wanted to, I would never experience the joy of carrying a child within my womb. I joked that I was “womb-free” and tried so hard to focus on the positives of never having a period again, but somehow, at times, I felt empty. We had a grandson and a granddaughter at that point, and yet I still couldn’t get over that I would never hear the word “Mommy” said to me.

My husband and I decided not to adopt because we felt we already had a full family, and looking back, we still think that that was the right decision. As I expressed to him that I had to learn to grieve the end of this dream, he was fully supportive and has always continued to be.

What helped me in addition to my husband’s support? Scriptures, talks with God accompanied by many tears, the encouragement of my family as well as my church family and friends, and learning to embrace new dreams over time.

Figuring out what is True

Initially, I had to learn to focus on the truth as I worked through my emotions. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable – if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy – dwell on these things.” (Philippians 4:8, CSB) The Scriptures were my best compass.

I felt like an absolute failure not being able to get pregnant, which was simply the wrong perspective. It wasn’t an issue of effort in trying to conceive, so therefore it wasn’t a failure! It was God’s will, and I could take comfort in knowing that his will is perfect: “Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.” (Romans 12:2, CSB)

When the word “barren” kept coming to mind, as though I was a wasteland, I had to remember that I am filled with the Holy Spirit and have been since the day of my baptism: “In him you also were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and when you believed.” (Ephesians 1:13, CSB). Not becoming pregnant did not change that fact!

At times, I wondered if I had prayed enough or prayed with enough faith. Why did God say yes to Hannah (1 Samuel 1-2) and not to me? I found solace in reading various sources which stated that, most likely, Aquila and Priscilla (also known as Prisca) never had children of their own. I read every passage where they are mentioned and took comfort in knowing they are not only one of the few couples mentioned in the New Testament but also an incredible example to follow, evidenced by Paul’s words: “Give my greetings to Prisca and Aquila, my coworkers in Christ Jesus, who risked their own necks for my life. Not only do I thank them, but so do all the Gentile churches.” (Romans 16:3, CSB) Clearly, I would never doubt their faith or their prayers, and decided to no longer doubt mine. 

When I felt like I was unworthy to cry out to God as to why I had not conceived, I took great comfort in looking at Jesus in Gethsemane. “Going a little father, he fell facedown and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:39) I understood that there was a huge difference between Jesus experiencing a horrific execution versus my having to accept the outcome of infertility. Nevertheless, it provided me an example to follow and encouraged me to humbly wrestle through scripture and prayer again and again, because true peace can only come from being with God. I grew closer to him the more I read and meditated on his Word, and as I continued to speak to him with complete and unabashed honesty.

Because of Jesus dying for me, I knew that I could absolutely approach my Lord with freedom and confidence. “Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16, CSB) This is because of God’s incredible love, which is also perfect, as so well described in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. Only God and the word love can be so easily interchanged in that passage!

And since I knew that God’s love is perfect, I held to the following promise as well: “There is no fear in love; instead, perfect love drives out fear, because fear involves punishment. So the one who fears is not complete in love. We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:18-19) I could stand before God at any time and process my grief with him. This passage also helped me work through any fear that I had that I deserved not to conceive because of my past.

As I pored over the Scriptures time and time again, I felt no words rang truer than those expressed by the psalmist in Psalm 119:71 (CSB) – “It was good for me to be afflicted so that I could learn your statutes.” I began to feel so well-versed in God’s promises thanks to having had to work through this challenge, in addition to the others that have come my way. And as a result, I have a greater understanding of the riches we have in Christ and in drawing near to God: “Instruction from your lips is better for me than thousands of gold and silver pieces.” (Psalm 119:72, CSB)

Lastly, I want to share the following passages that have also brought great encouragement to my soul:

No foreigner who has joined himself to the Lord should say,

                “The Lord will exclude me from his people,”

                and the eunuch should not say,

                “Look, I am a dried-up tree.”

                For the Lord says this:

                “For the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths,

                and choose what pleases me,

                and hold firmly to my covenant,

                I will give them, in my house and within my walls,

                a memorial and a name

better than sons and daughters.

I will give each of them an everlasting name

that will never be cut off.

(Isaiah 56:3-5)

Though this passage helped me to better understand the eunuch’s deep joy and immediate readiness to become a disciple of Jesus in Acts 8, it also brought me great peace. I am not a “dried-up tree”, but rather I am thriving in the beauty of God’s amazing grace.

                The person who trusts in the Lord,

                whose confidence indeed is the Lord, is blessed.

                He will be like a tree planted by water:

                it sends its roots out toward a stream,

                it doesn’t fear when heat comes,

                and its foliage remains green.

                It will not worry in a year of drought

                or cease producing fruit.”

                (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

I would love to tell you that I have never had tear-filled moments again or felt sadness about my infertility, but that would be untrue. Even as I am in the early stages of menopause, I still deal with my grief. But I always come back to a place of gratitude and peace thanks to God’s constant love, his promises in these and other Scriptures, and songs such as “Thy Will” by Hillary Scott & The Scott Family, which was written after Hillary Scott and her husband had a miscarriage. I am indebted to my daughter for sharing that song with me, as it continues to be a balm to my soul whenever I listen to it or sing it.

I am also grateful for sisters with whom I have shared my story to help them through their similar struggles. That privilege has helped me feel even more encouraged about why infertility was woven into the tapestry that is my life.

New dreams

I have learned to dream new dreams. Shortly after I scheduled my hysterectomy, I attended a conference for the American Commonwealth Region and sat in a class for empty-nester women. I am so grateful to have been in a room filled with older women who had learned or were learning to dream new dreams for God in this new stage of their lives. I never envisioned joining their ranks at the age of 36, with a husband at the age of 44, but I felt great hope for the future.

So much healing also came to my heart when my husband and I took a sabbatical to join the “RevivEE” Eastern Europe team in Odessa, Ukraine as a “Caleb couple” from October 2020-June 2021. I can rejoice in being a young empty nester, and we look forward to returning to Eastern Europe prayerfully soon to continue to serve on the mission field. I have embraced the freedom that not having children of my own has given me. I love how God marries our needs with other needs in his kingdom perfectly!

I pray that if you are finding yourself dealing with infertility, you will find the comfort that God is ready to give you. Know that you are his beloved, and that, like the blind man in John 9, the same truth spoken by Jesus holds for you: “This came about so that God’s works might be displayed in him.” (John 9:3, CSB)

And know that, no matter what your journey is, you can always find someone who can fully empathize with you, because we are a large family of believers and, by the grace of God, we never walk alone. Lastly, I pray that you find comfort and peace, and that you will never stop dreaming with the One through whom all things are possible!