It was the end of 1998, and my husband and I decided that we were ready to have a baby. We had only been married for a year and a half, and I had just started graduate school. Our one bedroom apartment couldn't even fit a baby, but we were ready anyway. We stopped using birth control, and believed that we'd get pregnant within a few months. Everyone else in our family had to try hard not to get pregnant, so we figured we'd have no problem at all. No pregnancy the first month . . . or the second month . . . or the third. We tried not to worry. We read about infertility, and the articles and books all said that a couple is not considered infertile until after a year of unsuccessful trying.
In June, 1999, I began working as a Teacher's Aide making half as much as I made at my previous job, but we were undeterred. The job was temporary. We figured it wouldn't last longer than a pregnancy would. Besides, breast milk was free, and we'd figure out how to pay for diapers. A year passed. I received my master's degree, and around the time that I started my first teaching assignment, we moved into a much bigger apartment. Better circumstances for a baby, but still no baby.
I read Hannah's prayer in I Samuel regularly and tried to believe that God would do for us what He had done for her. Yet each month when my period came, I felt like my heart was being crushed. I never admitted it to anyone, but I secretly wondered what kind of God would do this to us. We decided to get tested. No blockage in my fallopian tubes and I was ovulating normally. My husband's tests revealed that there was nothing physically wrong with him, either. We just had to wait. Each month when my period came, I felt like I couldn't breathe . . . like I was dying a little each time.
My mom gave me the best advice. She reassured me of God's love for me, and she believed that I would get pregnant as soon as I stopped worrying about it. I focused on enjoying life with my husband and becoming a great teacher. My mom was right, as moms so often are. In February 2001, my period was late. That had happened before, though, so I was hesitant to get excited. But after a few days, I took the pregnancy test, and it was finally positive! Suddenly I realized what kind of God we served – the kind of doting Father who loved us enough to bring our child into the world when He wanted her here, and interestingly enough, it felt like we hadn't waited at all. My mom was right about something else, too. Guess what we found out four months after our daughter was born? You guessed it! Our daughter and son are a year apart.
12/1/2008
12/1/2008
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