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.