Just look up

A few years ago, I met this girl online. Her name is Erin. She is my age. She and her husband have been married as long as hubby and I have. She is quite nice and fun to talk to. We had one major thing in common - we wanted very much to have children, but had spent years wondering if it would ever happen.

She had been to the doctor and the fertility clinics. They had taken every test and had surgeries. They had spent thousands of dollars on medicines and treatments and procedures. Hubby and I were still relying on our faith and hoping that in time things would turn out for the best - which eventually they did. We hadn’t started the whole doctoring process in depth.

For hubby and I, all of our waiting and heartache paid off. We are expecting the arrival of our very own little one. All of this with great joy, and some fear. I felt so guilty as I emailed Erin that we had gotten a positive test result. I was so nervous. I was so worried. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, and I knew the pain that came with hearing others were expecting when you were trying so hard. I didn’t want to cause her that pain. But I also knew that it was possible my news would give her some hope. If it happened for me, maybe it would happen for her. She was so gracious and sweet. She was happy for us and still hanging on to hope.

The last several months she mentioned that they may stop doctoring and fertility treatments because it was starting to really take its toll on them emotionally and financially. I struggled with the right words. What could I say to her? I assured her I would continue to pray for them as they tried to answer some big questions. When they decided to try until this fall and then take a break - possibly a permanent one - I told her I thought that was a good idea and I would continue to pray.

I got an email from Erin this morning. I read it and a tear ran down my face. She had taken yet another pregnancy test. She took it on her husband’s birthday. She took it believing she would get the result that she had gotten every single other time before. But this was different. She took another, and another, and another. It was positive. I wanted to jump up and shout. I wanted to drive to Ohio and give her a huge hug. I wanted to call someone and tell them. But instead I bowed my head because I knew Who was sharing in my joy.

For some of us it is a struggle with fertility. For some of us it is financial burden. For some of us it is a health issue. For some of us it is something we just can’t admit. And many of us hit rock bottom. Everyone has their stumbling block. But it is possible to overcome those obstacles. And the joy that sweeps through when you realize your are on the other side of that impossibly high wall is just indescribable. That's when you bow your head, and you just look up - beyond the obstacle - and you see the hands that lifted you.