My grandparents were married for 8 years before they ever had children. My grandmother said she used to pray that a baby would be left on her doorstep. God heard her prayer for a child and eventually blessed my grandparents with 10 children!
My grandparents, as long as I can remember, slept in separate bedrooms. I'm not sure if they always had this arrangement - if so, that might explain the 8 years of infertility! But I'm assuming that wasn't the case.
In today's world, my grandmother would have been labeled infertile and probably would have been encouraged to seek the help of a RE. She might have undergone IUI, IVF and countless other procedures.
But that wasn't available in the 1930's. Instead, my grandparents prayed for a child. I don't know if there were "kitchen cure" infertility treatments back then (ie. herbs and such) that she might have used, but I do know that during those 8 years my grandparents opened their home to those in need and seemed to have a focus on serving others.
Because my grandmother didn't blog (lol), I have no way of knowing her thoughts during this time. I'm sure she was saddened by her barrenness, and obviously must have felt hopelessness if her prayer was for a baby to be left on her doorstep.
I don't know if a medical miracle occurred one day that allowed her to conceive - or maybe it was just finally the right time. God's time.
As I struggle with my diagnosis of unexplained secondary infertility, I wonder if maybe it just hasn't been the right time yet. Not God's time.
My experience with a RE and subsequent fertility treatments (monthly ultrasounds, blood work, Clomid, progesterone supplementation - oral, suppository, and injections, and one IUI) left me feeling hopeless and abandoned by God. I put all of my hope in procedures and medication. My life revolved around cycles, temperatures, follicle sizes, and lab values. I was constantly uptight and stressed out. When yet another cycle would end with disappointment, I was beyond devastated.
I found myself overwhelmed with the hopelessness of the situation, the helplessness of my own inability to change anything, and the bitter loneliness of soul that comes to one who stops looking toward and trusting in the Lord of all.
Things haven't worked out according to my time table, my plans, or my way. I have found out through this struggle that I can't manipulate God. I can in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let [my] requests be made known to God, but I can't make God do anything.
"God, will You please show me that You still love me?" I prayed. "I'm angry and frustrated. I feel like You don't care. Please show me that You really are in control of everything and that You really are for me. Show me Your love."
When I have asked Him to show me His love, He never has failed to do so.
"Be merciful unto me, O God. Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book" . . . this I know; for God is for me." Psalm 56
How does God come to a person in need, speak to her, and quiet her hurting soul? In my situation God has used late night conversations with a patient husband, the blog of a stranger, well-timed sermons on the radio, talks with a dear friend, a video of a rebellious and strong-willed dog, Patch Club lessons, and His Word.
Through all of this, I found that I hadn't been looking at Him. I thought God was angry and unkind to me . . so I was looking away - I was looking only at myself.
Why do bad things happen to good people - well, maybe we're really not so good. I know God has used this struggle and disappointment in my life to work good - but the refiner's fire isn't painless as it purifies.
I will continue to pray for another child and trust that God will bring it to be in His perfect time - who knows, maybe I will find a baby on my doorstep.