INFERTILITY IS UNFAIR, BUT ADOPTION IS BEAUTIFUL

Infertility is unfair. It is. If it were some form of punishment for sin, then maybe I’d say I understand, because, of course I’ve sinned. I stole buttons from play school when I was five, which was a huge scandal in my mind. And I have committed countless “little sins” throughout my life!

But the truth is: Infertility doesn’t “happen” to people who don’t want children. It

"happens” to the woman who aches to see the 2 blue lines. The woman who has dreamed up a thousand ways to tell her husband that she’s carrying his baby. The woman who yearns to see her husband’s eyes in the face of her child. The woman who wants, more than anything, to feel the flutter of tiny movements deep within her.

We were told we probably wouldn’t be able to have children on our own...But that didn’t mean I couldn’t be a mother, and that my husband couldn’t be a father.

The line of impossibility the world draws is God’s starting line. It’s the point where He takes the baton and runs with us.

Infertility is a journey; a long, difficult, invasive, hurtful journey. If you don’t guard your heart, it will make of you a bitter person. I’ve wrestled with God over this more times than I care to admit. And I’m so angry with myself for feeling, for a split second, that God can’t possibly love me if He “allowed” this to happen to me.

But the truth is, there are no favorites in the eyes of God, we’re all His favorite. No one person has more of an impact on the heart of God than another. And it would be very dangerous to entertain the thought that those who get what they prayed for have more influence on God than those who don’t. Think of Christ’s unanswered prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane.

I take refuge in knowing that a God with scars, can understand ours.

When I look at the hands of my savior, I see deep, dreadful scars. When I set my face towards His, I can’t help but notice the thorn-scars etched into his forehead.

God is inside our suffering. God understands the weight of our grief. Psalm 56:8 from The Message translation puts it so beautifully:

“You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.”

Our journey to adoption is marked with God’s fingerprint.

We have seen His hand over us in so many ways.

I received a revelation about 4 years ago. I distinctly remember feeling that I needed to celebrate women who were in the season I was so desperately hoping for. I had the sense that if I did, that when my time came, people would celebrate with us in a way I wouldn’t be able to even dream up!

And so I found myself going overboard at baby showers. It wasn’t always easy (to be honest – at times it still isn’t), and at times I’ve had to smile through clenched teeth in order to hold back tears as I’ve congratulated friends who have conceived easily.

Needless to say, we have been blessed beyond measure by the people closest to us, and by absolute strangers who are celebrating the miracle of adoption with us! And it has left me in awe of the faithfulness of God, and the capacity of others to celebrate the life of and love a baby girl they haven’t even met.

As I write this, we are in the car and on our way to fetch our Homegirl and bring her home to a family and community of people who are ready to love her and celebrate her as a gift given and a gift received!

We find ourselves driving to the opposite side of the country, and all of a sudden kilometers mean nothing, and the nearer we get to her, the fuller our hearts become.

Infertility isn’t the reason we’re adopting, but it is what has brought us to this beautiful miracle. The very thing I ran away from for years, is the thing I find myself running towards, with arms wide open, ready to grab hold of a child I did not bring into this world, but one I will love as though I did.

I still believe that adoption isn’t the only way I’ll be a mother, but it is what has made me one.