My wife and I are infertile.*
It’s generally been public knowledge since I talked about it in my Mother’s Day sermon last year. We’ve been infertile for the last four years. I intend to write more about our journey and struggle on this blog in the months to come.
But today . . . today in all the ups and downs of this road of sorrows . . . today was a particularly sad day.
Last night I received a phone call from the foster agency we’re licensed through. They asked if my wife and I were interested in fostering a six month old girl. It wasn’t a definite placement, but we would have to be prepared to receive the baby the next day. And of course the answer was “yes!” So, last night the Norman household was all a flutter with preparations. We pulled out the baby toys, the playpens, the high chair, the stroller and the crib. We wrote lists of items we might need to purchase in a moment’s notice. We cleaned and baby-proofed everything . . . even the cats.
We called our families and texted our friends asking for prayer. We went through the foster licensing process almost a year ago and this was our first call!
This morning I woke up early and armed with my M.Div. training, I spent about two hours trying to figure out how to correctly install the car seat into my car. (I might need to go back to seminary for more education because the M.Div. did nothing to prepare me for the complexities of installing a child’s car seat!)
I went to the church office and my wife went to work. I was “on deck” to receive the “yes” or “no” phone call by no later than 11:30am.
11:30 came and went and I hadn’t received a phone call. That was a good sign, right? So, a little after 1pm I called our case-worker: “Oh, sorry I forgot to call you. The child isn’t going to be put into foster care at this time . . .”
I texted my wife (because she was at work) and she called me immediately. I think we were both crying without tears.
And then I had to go through the ordeal of calling and texting and talking to everyone I had asked for prayer. And as painful as that was, I think the most difficult, heart wrenching part of the day, was taking the baby’s car seat out of my car. It had taken hours to install it.
It took less than ten seconds to take it out.
I assume there will be other opportunities. But after a miscarriage. After four years of infertility. After a year of virtual silence from the foster care system. After disappointment. After disappointment. After disappointment. After disappointment . . . I am sad. And tonight I am depressed.
There are no words that can comfort me.
I will not be consoled.
It’s a Psalm 13 kind of day. So I suppose in my depression, and sorrow . . . even though I can’t see God’s plan in all this and I certainly can’t feel it . . . I will decide to trust in God’s faithful love.
*Infertility is defined as the inability of a couple to conceive after trying for a year.
It’s generally been public knowledge since I talked about it in my Mother’s Day sermon last year. We’ve been infertile for the last four years. I intend to write more about our journey and struggle on this blog in the months to come.
But today . . . today in all the ups and downs of this road of sorrows . . . today was a particularly sad day.
Last night I received a phone call from the foster agency we’re licensed through. They asked if my wife and I were interested in fostering a six month old girl. It wasn’t a definite placement, but we would have to be prepared to receive the baby the next day. And of course the answer was “yes!” So, last night the Norman household was all a flutter with preparations. We pulled out the baby toys, the playpens, the high chair, the stroller and the crib. We wrote lists of items we might need to purchase in a moment’s notice. We cleaned and baby-proofed everything . . . even the cats.
We called our families and texted our friends asking for prayer. We went through the foster licensing process almost a year ago and this was our first call!
This morning I woke up early and armed with my M.Div. training, I spent about two hours trying to figure out how to correctly install the car seat into my car. (I might need to go back to seminary for more education because the M.Div. did nothing to prepare me for the complexities of installing a child’s car seat!)
I went to the church office and my wife went to work. I was “on deck” to receive the “yes” or “no” phone call by no later than 11:30am.
11:30 came and went and I hadn’t received a phone call. That was a good sign, right? So, a little after 1pm I called our case-worker: “Oh, sorry I forgot to call you. The child isn’t going to be put into foster care at this time . . .”
I texted my wife (because she was at work) and she called me immediately. I think we were both crying without tears.
And then I had to go through the ordeal of calling and texting and talking to everyone I had asked for prayer. And as painful as that was, I think the most difficult, heart wrenching part of the day, was taking the baby’s car seat out of my car. It had taken hours to install it.
It took less than ten seconds to take it out.
I assume there will be other opportunities. But after a miscarriage. After four years of infertility. After a year of virtual silence from the foster care system. After disappointment. After disappointment. After disappointment. After disappointment . . . I am sad. And tonight I am depressed.
There are no words that can comfort me.
I will not be consoled.
It’s a Psalm 13 kind of day. So I suppose in my depression, and sorrow . . . even though I can’t see God’s plan in all this and I certainly can’t feel it . . . I will decide to trust in God’s faithful love.
*Infertility is defined as the inability of a couple to conceive after trying for a year.
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