The Infertile Promise

#TestimonyThursday #Infertility #Motherhood

There are many words no one ever wants to hear. For me, that word was “infertile”.

My husband and I met at church and both serve in worship ministry. Not long after meeting, the Lord had showed us we would one day get married (weird, I know... but truly that's what happened). Two years later, we said our “I do's”. We began to dream of our future family and even come up with names for kids. We disagreed on some but we were sure about one name; Levi. In the midst of dreaming, we never anticipated the season we were entering into.

I will never forget the day I went to see my doctor. It was August 22, 2017. I sat on the hospital bed as she asked me small-talk questions. It eventually came to the question everyone asked: “When are you planning to have kids?” My heart sunk as I responded “Well, we've been trying for almost 3 years now.” She began to question why I had waited so long to tell them. For me, the answer was simple, I thought God would have come through by then.

My heart felt like it was being shattered into pieces as I watched her type “unable to conceive, infertile” into my medical chart. As a worshipper, it's hard to admit when you feel like your joy is being taken from you. For the first time, I felt like I had no song to sing. I went home and got into prayer. I told the Lord this was just too heavy for me to carry. God responded and in a gentle voice said “so was the Cross.” At that moment, I knew this season wasn't just for me, but for others.

I started journaling to document how I felt throughout the season by writing letters to Levi. In the letters, I shared how I felt hopeless, like I was being punished and couldn't figure out why. I even wrote how I was offended with God as I watched others easily have kids. I felt so alone and like no one understood.

In the midst of my depression, I went to a women's conference. Randomly, the pastor felt she needed to pray for infertile women. I went up with what was too many women to count. As they prayed, I felt God putting the pieces of my heart back together. After praying, I turned to see a banner that simply had the name, Levi. I felt my faith be completely restored.

I returned home completely healed, physically and emotionally. Shortly after, with my infertility tests approaching, I took a pregnancy test. I broke down as it read POSITIVE!

Today, I write this on the same day my son, Levi, turns 8 months old. For those reading this who are in their waiting season, know that God has a plan for your life. He doesn't hate you. He's not punishing you. He loves you and His name is still greater than the word “infertility”.