Ode to the Women of Child-Bearing Age

I had a pregnancy scare this week. 

I had a pregnancy scare even though I’ve struggled for years with endometriosis and infertility.

You see, the heartbreaking truth is that I was not pregnant. But my cycle was taking longer than normal… longer than the fluctuations of days I’ve come accustomed to.

So long, in fact, that I had to convince myself one way or the other by taking a pregnancy test. I peed on a stick. And it was glaringly clear that I am not pregnant. 

Then, of course, almost like clockwork, my cycle began that evening.

My body betrayed me again.

To put it in context, my husband and I struggled to become parents for years. We questioned our abilities and fought against our own bodies to become what apparently is not natural to us – even though it seems pretty dang natural for plenty of other people in the world. Something that SHOULD be natural. But for us it is not.

Even with that background, this was still a pregnancy scare. You see, as ready as we were to become parents when it finally happened six years ago, we are not prepared now. We have grown accustomed to our life as three musketeers. 

We have insulated ourselves with the truth that we were able to become pregnant, keep a pregnancy through to 9 months, and birth a beautiful boy. Our son is now five. He is in kindergarten. 

We have protected ourselves from the fact that we may never have another child. We have reoriented our minds around the truth that our little family is family enough. No other children are guaranteed.

And as much as we have focused ourselves on life as a family of three, this cycle surprised me. It brought me back to a place of fear, pain, and not-enoughness. It reminded me that, once again, my body did not do what I expected. What I planned for. 

It humbled me. A reminder that only God is the author of life. That God only knows my future. 

At the same time, my friend was having a miscarriage. Her experience has been so very similar to my miscarriage in 2017. By lending my ear (and grieving all over again), I am reminded that no matter how easy the process is for any woman, none of us are in control of when we may or may not become mothers. 

But something beautiful came from our pain. 

She knows she is not alone. 

I know I am not alone. 

And we both know our sweet babies are safe in the Father’s arms. Far safer there than on this earth, to be honest. 

Grief will come and go, but that truth remains. 

Dear friend. 

Please know you are not alone. Women of child-bearing age have faced such grief since Adam and Eve sinned. And while the fact that something may be common does not help you individually in your pain, please know that I pray for you, dear reader, as I write… as I share some of my deepest pain. 

You are truly not alone. 

Whether your pain is like mine or not.

You are truly not alone. 

–

Psalm 139:1-18,23-24

1 You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.

2 You know when I sit and when I rise;    you perceive my thoughts from afar.

3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.

4 Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.

5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.

6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?

8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,

10 even there your hand will guide me,    your right hand will hold me fast.

11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”

12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you    when I was made in the secret place,    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!

18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you.

23 Search me, God, and know my heart;    test me and know my anxious thoughts.

24 See if there is any offensive way in me,    and lead me in the way everlasting.

Written by Leah Honnen. 
Leah Honnen is a wife, momma, and infertility warrior living in Jacksonville, IL. She is a homemaker and volunteers at her church, but loves spending time fixing up her pre-1920s home with her husband, John. Leah writes on the lessons she continues to learn in daily life – through infertility, motherhood, music, friendships, and more on Instagram @leahhonnen. 
You can find more of Leah's posts on the PriorityNow Blog here.