Our hearts connect us by the love we share for one another. Some fellowshipped into our sisterhood by friendship & others by blood. Whatever life puts us through, we do our best to stick together. We are determined through it all to uplift one another. Side by Side we can not and WILL NOT FAIL OR FALL. Through it all we vow to rescue one another. By the love that binds us we are knitted tightly together. These are the women I call My Extraordinary Sisters!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Learning to Cope with Infertility
If your a sister going through this or know of someone who might be, please share this msg..
Learning to Cope with Infertility
By Carolynn R. Spencer
How personal revelation, insight from the scriptures, and the prophetic word have sustained us.
I sat in the temple seeking peace, but there it was again: the first commandment given to Adam and Eve, and to all of us, to “be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth” (Genesis 1:28). I wanted nothing more than to obey this commandment. I had a firm testimony that “the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7). Why, then, could I not get pregnant? My husband, Tim, and I had been married in the temple and felt ready in every way to welcome a child into our family, but even with the most advanced medical intervention, our hopes remained unfulfilled and our prayers seemed to remain unanswered as the years passed by.
The career I had begun without much thought upon graduation from college moved forward, and at a certain point I realized that from the world’s standpoint I had achieved success: a beautiful home, a flourishing career, a comfortable lifestyle. I thought how ironic it was that those things didn’t matter much to me; my dreams all centered on raising an eternal family—which, in my mind, included children. Although my close friends and family knew of my anguish, others in my ward and extended family didn’t. It was awkward to respond to questions regarding when we would start our family and devastating to hear hurtful comments regarding our selfishness in putting our careers before having children. Others tried to compensate; unfortunately, that wasn’t always helpful either.
I learned to dread few days as much as I did Mother’s Day. On many other days, I cringed when I listened to women complain about their pregnancies or their children or the responsibilities of mothering. Didn’t they realize how blessed they were? Didn’t they realize that others longed to be in their shoes? Month after month, and then year after year, Tim and I rode waves of hope, only to feel them come crashing down when our dreams failed to materialize.
I tried not to give in to despair. I accepted invitations to baby showers for friends or loved ones and rejoiced in their happiness and good fortune. Despite being told by a doctor after surgery that it was impossible for me to have a child, I never gave up; my patriarchal blessing was too specific about the children who would one day be “born” to me. However, in my darkest moments of sorrow, I couldn’t help but wonder why babies seemed to come easily to some women and not to others.
I wondered if Heavenly Father felt I was in some way unworthy or undeserving. Could He not entrust me with one of His children? Was His love for me somehow less than for my sisters and friends who were blessed to become mothers? I began to search the scriptures and soon found others, beloved daughters of God, who had shared my pain.
Lessons from Women in the Scriptures
From Abraham’s wife, Sarah, who “was barren; she had no child” (Genesis 11:30), I learned that miracles do happen, that nothing is “too hard for the Lord” (Genesis 18:14), and that the Lord’s timing is critical. I learned that even when we think the time has completely passed for a miracle to occur in our lives, it still can: “For Sarah conceived, and bare Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken to him” (Genesis 21:2).
From Isaac’s wife, Rebekah, I learned I needed to keep trusting in the words of my patriarchal blessing, recognizing that blessings aren’t always fulfilled in mortality or in the ways we expect. I learned that if my prayers weren’t answered right away, I still needed to keep praying. I could also ask loved ones to pray with and for me. Rebekah had been blessed that she would “be … the mother of thousands of millions” (Genesis 24:60). Despite this blessing, she too had no children until “Isaac intreated the Lord for his wife, because she was barren: and the Lord was intreated of him, and Rebekah his wife conceived” (Genesis 25:21).
From Elkanah’s wives, Hannah and Peninnah, I learned some unexpected lessons (1 Samuel 1:1–21). I instantly empathized with Hannah because of her childlessness, but I soon realized she wasn’t the only one suffering. I was moved by Hannah’s pain in her barrenness, Elkanah’s pain in Hannah’s unhappiness, and Peninnah’s pain in her loneliness, which despite her many children must have been great as she understood she was less loved by her husband than was Hannah. From Hannah and Peninnah, I understood that we each have trials and challenges; we each have secret sorrows and pain. Was Hannah’s pain in her barrenness greater than Peninnah’s pain in her loneliness? I didn’t know. I couldn’t say. But I suddenly realized that I wouldn’t trade trials with Peninnah. For me, it was a revelation.
I learned from Hannah’s despair that it makes no sense to let gratitude for the blessings we do have be crowded out by sorrow over the one thing we lack. I wondered if Hannah recognized how blessed she was in her marriage, despite her childlessness. Her husband, Elkanah, wondered the same: “Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? am not I better to thee than ten sons?” (1 Samuel 1:8).