Preparing for Chicks

I remember that night. Donny and I had not been dating more than a few months. We were building air castles, dreaming about what our lives would be like together. I was 24, he was 29. We were ready to get married. All the tough questions that most people wait months to handle had been dealt with one date number two! We were serious and were head-over-heels in love.

"I may not be able to have kids," he said.

I didn't know what to say. If only I'd let it sink in then. I might have been able to deal with some of the pain earlier, but I was love struck. I reassured him that it would be fine. I am from "good Kentucky stock," as my mom so eloquently put it. You can almost look at a woman in my family and get her pregnant. We wouldn't have trouble. Denial is a powerful force.

Please do not think that a better understanding of what Donny said would have changed my decision to marry him. He is my soulmate, my hero, and I adore him. We can face whatever challenges we are given with Christ as our guide and each other to cling to.

We dated a total of six months, were engaged, then married six months later. After getting married, I quickly discovered that birth control pills and I do NOT get along. I put up with six months of massive mood swings then stopped taking them. Part of me was gleeful. Now it would just "happen". I would get pregnant and I could begin my mommy happily-ever-after. Occasionally I would be a hair late and I would get excited, only to start a couple of days later, crushing my hopes.  Still I clung to the hope it would just happen.

We moved up to Birmingham after our first year of marriage for Donny to finish up his degree. That summer I again got my hopes up. I went to the doctor, only to be told that I was not pregnant. I was devastated. The reality of our situation really came into focus. I curled up on the couch and wept. I wept for the death of the beautiful dream that there could one day be a Little Donny and a Little Leigh running around our house. The loss of that dream felt like a sentence. My heart's desire has alway been to be a mother. I felt angry. How could God call me to homeschool if I couldn't have children? Donny held me as I cried. He prayed over me until the tears stopped falling.

As the years passed I would have, and still do have, good days and bad days. Infertility is like a wound. There are times that it seems to have healed or at least gone numb. Other times it feels like someone has torn it wide open. The smallest things can leave you gasping with pain, like hearing a friend is expecting, or a thoughtless comment like "so when are you going to have kids?" Other days you can attend a baby shower and be perfectly fine. I have learned that God is my Healer. I have learned that he waits with open arms to hear my hurts, but he does not always chose to bring healing when and where I see fit. His plans are bigger than mine, his ways higher than mine.

I remember telling Donny again and again that I really wanted to have our first child before I turned 30. Today is my 30th birthday. God's ways are better than mine. His plan is best. I must admit, as I type this, a few tears are leaving trails down my cheek. But this I know, God has my life, Donny's life, the lives of our one-day children in his hands. We have an appointment to see a fertility specialist in the next couple of weeks. Please join us in praying that God would make his will abundantly clear to us and that we would trust him on this journey!

From our nest to yours!
Leigh Mott