A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

January 2010 began the first of many doctor appointments. I was pricked and poked. In March I had been scheduled for a uterus ultrasound. Even at this point, I was so hopeful I asked the technician if by any chance she saw a little baby in there. “No!” She sharply replied. I let out a sigh of frustration. Once again, my hope had been squelched.  The test came back fine, but I was getting more restless with why I couldn’t get pregnant. During this time the Lord through a variety of circumstances lead my husband and I back to the United States after two years of serving in England. This was quite difficult because I enjoyed living and serving in England. I packed the souvenirs I had bought for my baby’s Peter Rabbit nursery I was planning. I thought, “Maybe the Lord is sending us back to America because He is going to give us a family when we return.”

I can remember the following vividly. It was Tuesday, May 4, 2010 the last day before we were to fly to the U.S.A. We were supposed to be walking out the door to attend our farewell service at the church. I was just gathering a few last minute cards and gifts to give to the children and sweet families we love in England. The phone rang. I looked at the clock, it was 4:00. We were running late. My husband answered the phone – it was the doctor’s office. Time stood still. Through the phone we were told we had no human hope of ever having children. My emotions were already in high gear from saying goodbye to countless friends that day, and both my husband and I put the news in the back of our minds as we walked out the door broken. On my way to the church I thought, “They must have made a mistake, maybe something got mixed-up. God, I am serving YOU!” I was convinced the Lord would answer our prayers when we returned to America. That night was terrible. My heart was broken over being told we wouldn’t have children, and broken again that we were leaving the people we loved. The rest of the night was filled with tears and hugs. After the service, we returned home for just a few hours before leaving early the next morning for the airport. Once the whirlwind of last minute cleaning, packing, and preparation were over and I was in my airplane seat I couldn’t even think or feel anything. I was numb. “What just happened in those 24 hours?” I thought. We stepped off the plane to be greeted by friends and family who had no clue what was going on. I threw myself in my parent’s arms. I needed so much love and approval, I wanted to know everything was going to be alright. It wasn’t until much later that they would know just how much my heart was aching. I was scheduled to speak at a Ladies Meeting two days after we arrived. To this day I don’t even remember what I said.
My hurt was deep. My head cloudy. I put a guard around my feelings and refused to believe what my husband and I had been told. I was basically in denial. I would think about it occasionally, but the thought was just too overwhelming. I would sit in church and cry through the hymn that says, “how sweet to hold a newborn baby”. I was confused – why would a good God do this to me? I wanted answers, but God wanted me to wait and trust Him. That is exactly what I did. I prayed. I trusted.

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