Aimee's Story

Looking at the current size of my family, most people would never guess that I once struggled with secondary infertility. The truth is that from 1998 through 2004, my life was consumed with everything that had anything to do with having a baby.

I scrutinized my temperatures, rejoicing when it jumped more than .4 degrees and feeling devastated when it came crashing back down. I knew all about fall back rises, cervical fluid, ovulation predictor kit tests, and how often Steve and I should be intimate and when. Terms like OPK, BD, DPO, EWCM, HPT and PCOS rolled off my tongue with ease. I belonged to several message boards dedicated to natural family planning and infertility. I knew every brand of pregnancy test, which were the best, which were famous for having "evaporation lines" that offered false hope, and how soon someone could reliably test. I squinted at hundreds of pregnancy tests, turning them upside down and sideways, even taking them out of the cassette and holding them up to the light in the hopes that a second line would miraculously appear.

In March of 2000, two years after we started trying to get pregnant with our second child, we used a fertility drug called Clomid to help my body regulate itself. Two cycles later, I was pregnant. Joseph was born eight months later.

Though I had always thought that having another child would end my desire to increase my family, a year later I found myself just as driven as I had been before. I longed for another baby in a way that only women who have longed for a child understand.

So I started it all again. Romance took a backseat to timing, and as the years started to pass without a pregnancy, I knew something had to give. But how do you turn off the desire for a child? How do you make the decision to stop wanting something that permeates your every thought?

Somewhere around March of 2004, I had an experience that changed everything. That morning, I had taken a pregnancy test that showed the faintest hint of a second line. After experiencing a couple chemical pregnancies (pregnancies that typically end right around the end of a cycle and are normally only caught by women who are paying close attention and testing early) and a huge host of evaporation lines, I didn't have a lot of hope that this test was going to end in a bundle of joy being placed in my arms.

I was teaching back then, and I entered the school to find a good friend of mine standing in the hallway. I could tell something was going on from the look on her face, and moments later she confided in me that she was pregnant. It wasn't planned, in fact she and her husband were taking measures to prevent pregnancy. Though she was happy, she was completely shocked.

I can't explain the feeling I had when I went home that day. I took another pregnancy test, and the test was negative, confirming my suspicions that the first test hadn't been a true positive.

"How can this make sense?" I prayed aloud. How could I try, and try, and try, and try, and not get pregnant, when my friend got pregnant trying not to? It was as if all the emotions I had gone through for the past three and a half years came crashing upon me.

And so I turned to God. I took my Bible, and looking up to the ceiling I asked God to lead me to an answer. I opened my Bible to a random page, and my eyes fell upon this verse:

"Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain." (Psalm 127:1)

It was as if the clouds parted and allowed the sun to shine upon my face. I GOT it. Why didn't I get pregnant when I was doing everything in MY power to do so? Why did my friend get pregnant when she was doing everything in HER power not to?

Because it isn't up to us. Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain.

It wasn't up to me.

That day, I let go of my obsession. I stopped charting my temperature, taking ovulation tests, and being intimate with my husband based on a calendar. Most importantly, I became happy with what God had blessed me with. Instead of living each day hoping for more, I just lived each day.

The story could end here, and I can honestly tell you that it would be a happy ending. Fourteen months passed after that day and not one of those days included the longing for another child. The doctor had told me that without medical intervention, my family was complete. And I was content with my family.

But this is Aimee's story, isn't it? And it couldn't be her story without her.

Fourteen months after God led me to that Bible verse, I woke up one morning with a "feeling." Sure enough, a pregnancy test turned positive instantly. I didn't need to turn it upside down, sideways, or hold it up to the light. I was pregnant.

My first reaction was to burst into tears. "I was done!" I remember saying aloud.

But the Lord built another house. It didn't matter that the statistics said it was virtually impossible. It didn't matter that I wasn't charting, or timing, or obsessively testing. When it was time, He made it happen.

Eight months later I held my sweet baby girl in my arms.

That day and every day since, looking at my Aimee Elizabeth reminds me that God is in control.

Thank you, Lord.

God's Will Be Done (It Just So "Happened")

How can time slip away from me so swiftly? Somewhere between the good-morning kisses and the good-night hugs there is a time stealing portal that whisks my day away. And so each day tumbles into the next one and the one hundred and five blog entries that swirl through my brain never seem to make it into blogland.

But I had to make this story a priority. Because God is SO COOL, and the events of February 18th totally prove it.

I think I was nervous before I even woke up that morning. My dreams were filled with tummy frolicking butterflies. You'd think I was getting ready to go under anesthesia, or give a big speech. But my nerves were for something that actually had nothing to do with me.

My oldest daughter was competing in the regional spelling bee. She had won her middle school spelling bee, and had the awesome opportunity to compete at the next level. Kahlan was pretty cool about it. I was a wreck.

We had two specific prayers. The first was that Kahlan would be eliminated from the competition on a word that she truly didn't know. She has a photographic memory, so we hoped that if she misspelled a word, it was a word that she had never seen before. That way she would never have any, "I meant to say 'S' and I can't believe I accidentally said 'C'" regrets. Our second prayer was that she would make it into the top eight. This would enable her to at least be an alternate, and I knew that would completely thrill her. And I love it when my baby is thrilled.

And thus started a long string of, "It Just So Happened's" more accurately titled, "God Has Everything Under Control's."

It started with my nerves. I couldn't eat breakfast, because my stomach was doing somersaults.

Then Steve decided not to drive separately after all, and we all piled into the van together.

Steve took an unexpected detour through McDonald's so that we could get some protein in Kahlan before her big day.

I was quizzing Kahlan on her words, so she sat on the opposite side of the van that she normally does.

I couldn't hear her very well, so I asked her to move to the seat right behind Steve, even though she didn't want to.

As Steve started ordering, I stopped quizzing Kahlan on her words.

Though I almost never order fruit and yogurt parfaits, I ordered one because my nerves were still spinning my stomach and anything else felt like too much.

All of these things seem meaningless, don't they? Or at least they don't seem like what they really were - God's hand all over my daughter's day.

Because, you see, it came about that Kahlan was in the seventh round of the spelling bee a couple hours later. Twenty one students had been eliminated already, nine remained.

Each time she came up to the microphone, I prayed. "Dear Jesus, You have her in your hand. Give her calm nerves and a fresh mind. If it be Your will, Lord, let her spell this word correctly."

And each round had gone smoothly .....formula ....guitar ...ingredient ...colonial ...auctioneer...hypothesize...

parfait

I saw her open her mouth, then pause, then a flicker of recognition before she spelled the word correctly.

I knew what had happened. She confirmed it for me later, but I knew. She almost spelled the word P-A-R-F-E-I-T. Then her photographic memory flashed the image of the McDonald's order screen from that morning. She says she zoomed in on that word in red and read it right from that picture in front of her. "Correct!" the judge proclaimed.

You can't tell me it wasn't God. Had Steve driven separately like we were supposed to, Kahlan would have sat in the passenger seat and would have been unable to see the McDonald's screen if we would have even gone. Had he not gone to McDonald's, she never would have seen the word. Had she sat in her normal seat in the van, she wouldn't have seen the word. Had I not told her to move up two rows, she wouldn't have seen the word. Had I not stopped quizzing her as he ordered, she wouldn't have seen the word. Had I not been nervous, I never would have even ordered the parfait in the first place. God made sure that word was right in front of her eyes that morning.

Had she spelled it incorrectly, she would have gotten ninth place. Just one spot short of the top eight we had prayed for.

Round eight came quickly. Her word was viscous.

Once again I prayed the same prayer. This time she spelled the word incorrectly.

She had never heard of the word before, had never seen it.

And God, who is so amazing, so faithful, so wonderful, answered our other prayer. She sat down next to me and whispered, "I have never heard of that word." She was disappointed, but still she smiled. She knew what we had prayed before the spelling bee. There would be no "If I hadn't made that mistake" regrets for my little girl.

She went out in sixth place. Second alternate to the four champions, she earned her name in the newspaper and the opportunity to watch the state competition.

Before the Spelling Bee, I told her this: "If God wants you to win, you will win. If it is not His will that you win, you won't." When we talked about how many things God orchestrated so that she would see the word "parfait," all we could do was marvel.

The truth is, if He'd wanted her to compete at the state level, He would have given her "viscous" too.

How amazing it was to see God answer our prayers so clearly that day.

"Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you shall receive, and your joy will be complete." (John 16:24)

Sand, Snow and Me (A Beautiful Disaster)

Have you ever wondered how something beautiful could become such a disaster?

Beautiful

Disaster

Beautiful

Disaster

God created us. He formed us as individually as snowflakes and as numerous as the grains of sand. Does He wonder at the beautiful disaster His creation has become?

Beautiful

Disaster

Thank God for grace.

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins, and purify us of all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9)


(Photo credits forthcoming)

Return

I've been through many dark periods in my life.

There was the darkness that was the first 21 years of my life.
Punctuated by the torch lights of happy childhood moments, the blackness nevertheless was the darkest it would ever be. It was my Before.

There was the darkness that was my battle with panic disorder.
This shadowy time was different than before, because though the pain was real, I was carried through it by the One I knew would never let me fall.

There was the darkness that was the beginning years of my fight for my son.
There is a scene in the Neverending Story where Bastian and the princess sit in complete blackness, save for the one remaining grain of sand that sits in the princess' hand. That light lit the area between their faces, a warm glow that radiated between them. This was how I fought for Joseph in the first few months. Alone in my battle, everyone around me faded from my view. I lived as if I was sitting face to face with God, the Light emanating from His hand being His promise of hope and a future.

Years passed, and the darkness was a memory, a shadow I kept far from within my reach.

Then there came a new darkness.

My words began as His. Every blog entry I wrote was written with the knowledge that the words were not from me.

Then pride crept in. And oh, the blackness that it carries with it.

And I knew. I stared at it and I knew what it was. And the Holy Spirit within me demanded that I deal with it.

But pride is intoxicating, and the words I prayed for God to take it from me were empty.

So when I stopped acknowledging that the words were His, He solved the problem for me.

He took the words away.

Daily I stared at a blank computer screen. The ideas that had tumbled through me like water were now still and lifeless.

Aimee's birthday passed and I tried to sit down and tell the story of the miracle that God blessed us with when He created her. The story was burning within me, but the words wouldn't come. Time after time I closed out the window and walked away.

January came to a close. February began with its cold winds and glistening snow. One day I noticed that I had stopped trying to create stories in my head.

Two days ago, thinking about the glory of God and His amazing grace in my life, I realized that ideas were flowing unbridled through my mind.

When I let go of them, He gave them back.

In the NeverEnding Story, Bastian had to take that little grain of sand and recreate Fantasia through his own wishes and dreams. In our world, wishes and dreams come true when we acknowledge that we are not the Creator.

It isn't to be about us.

We are to be for Him.