Seen and Read

Over the past week or so, I've stumbled upon a few insightful reads posted on the internet, all related to trials or their accompanying temptations.

• In a series of meditations on Psalm 27, Paul Tripp wrote about productive delay, about how God makes waiting redemptive and restorative.

• Tim Challies collected a series of helpful quotes on envy and offers some a personal reflection of that topic.

• CT Online posted an article by Walter Kaiser on various kinds of suffering (link courtesy of Between Two Worlds).

• Of First Importance shares a quote that describes how to look at sorrow as though at the tomb of the risen Christ (link courtesy of Solo Femininity).

Click on over if any of those interest you; happy reading!

Hymns for Hard Times: How Firm a Foundation

(Prior posts in this series:
"Whate'er My God Ordains Is Right"
"The Solid Rock"
"God Moves in a Mysterious Way"
"It Is Well")

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word!
What more can He say than to You He has said,
You, who unto Jesus for refuge have fled?

Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen and help thee and cause thee to stand
Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand.

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake.

This hymn has been my constant companion during this trial of infertility. I sing it to myself regularly, rehearsing the promises of God. His Word is sufficient to give me comfort! He is with me, holding me up when I am weary! He will not let me drown in rivers of sorrow or burn in fiery trials! He will sanctify and refine me through these troubles! He will never desert or forsake me! Most of the text of this hymn is culled directly from Scripture passages, like Isaiah 41 and 43. This is my favorite hymn for hard times, because it tells me just what I need to hear in order to persevere in faith amidst suffering.

Hymns for Hard Times: It Is Well

(See the prior post in this series here.)

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way;
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul.
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blessed assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And has shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! -
My sin, not in part, but the whole
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

I desire the kind of controlling contentment that this hymn describes, a soul that is at rest whether I am in a time of peace or sorrow. No matter what happens to me, may I find joy in the glorious thought that all of my sin - my anxiety, my complaining, my envy, my fear - has been nailed to the cross of Christ. All other burdens seem weightless when I remember the weight of sin that I no longer have to carry because Jesus carried it to the grave. With that redemption and reconciliation with God, it truly is well with my soul.

Hymns for Hard Times: God Moves in a Mysterious Way

(See the prior post in this series here.)

God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform.
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

I was aware of this moving poem by William Cowper, but it became endeared to me in the trial of infertility through the updated version of the hymn on Sovereign Grace Ministries' Worship God Live album.

The third stanza imparts oft-necessary reminders to me. I am so prone to fear the cloudy circumstances that I can see on my horizon - difficult medical procedures, baby showers, pregnancy announcements, close friends giving birth, and so on. Many times those sorts of things seem truly dreadful to me, and I just want to take cover from the storms of life. But my God promises that he will cause those very things that I want to avoid to somehow bless me with showers of mercy. I can't always wrap my mind around that promise, but I want to grow in trusting its truth.

Hymns for Hard Times: The Solid Rock

(Here is the first post in this series.)

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' Name.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness seems to hide His face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, His covenant, His blood
Support me in the 'whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found,
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

How often I need the reminders - like this song - that I should not lean on anything else but my Savior! When my hope for children gives way, I need to stand on the Rock of Christ. Even the blessings currently in my life, like my husband, should not be the repository of my trust and happiness. Only Jesus can support the full weight of all my hopes and sorrows and joys.

Hymns for Hard Times: Whate'er My God Ordains Is Right

Numerous songs have helped to keep my soul from sinking under the trial of infertility. I'll take some time this week to post a few hymns that speak to the topic of suffering.

The following hymn is a new one to me. I was introduced to it by an updated version on the CD In a Little While by father/son team Mark & Stephen Altrogge. Here are the original lyrics:

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate'er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall;
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path;
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I'll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers nought to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather;
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father's care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall,
And so to Him I leave it all.

I love the closing lines of the second stanza; so often I need to remember that God is not rendered impotent by my griefs. He can end these troubles at any time, and he will do so at the best time. My part is to wait patiently, trustingly for his day.

Books for Hard Times

Just about anything wise or discerning that I may have to say about suffering graciously comes from one of two places: God's word and godly authors. I can claim plenty of credit for the foolish or whiny things I say that come straight out of my sinful heart. But I can't claim credit for the cumulative effect that God has wrought out of some of the things I've read to help my soul cope with the difficulties of these past few years. So if you've benefited at all - by the grace of God - from what I sometimes write here, you'll benefit even more from the following resources:


How Long, O Lord? by D.A. Carson
This is an excellent book on the theology of suffering. If you are not in the midst of a trial, this books lays an excellent doctrinal foundation for any hard times you may encounter down the road; it will also help you to helpfully counsel any friends who are suffering. If you are in the midst of affliction, the rich truths of this book will bring comfort and clarity even when there are many unanswerable questions about your circumstances.

"I cannot give you all the answers to your 'Why?' But you may draw courage from the fact that the one who loves you so much he died for you asked the same question: 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'"

All Things for Good by Thomas Watson
This little Puritan paperback is a rich mine for the sufferer. While scrutinizing Romans 8:28, Thomas Watson packs every paragraph full of vivid metaphors that impart practical understanding God's promise to work all things for good to those that love him. When you just can't see any good arising out of your circumstances, read this book to find out all the possible ways that God might be at work.

"All things work together for good. This expression 'work together' refers to medicine. Several poisonous ingredients put together, being tempered by the skill of the apothecary, make a sovereign medicine, and work together for the good of the patient. So all God's providences, being divinely tempered and sanctified, work together for the best to the saints."


Beside Still Waters by C.H. Spurgeon
This book collects various writings and sermon excerpts on the topic of suffering from the famed 19th century London preacher. Spurgeon's congregation faced poverty, illness, and death as features of daily life, and he himself struggled with depression. The short, devotional-style entries are arranged by Scripture reference, but there is also an index arranged by topic. If you want simple, brief doses of help for the afflicted soul, pick up this book and read a little.

For a few quotes, see here, here, here, and here.


Suffering and the Sovereignty of God, eds. John Piper & Justin Taylor
This book collects articles based on messages given at a Desiring God conference of the same title. I've not read them all, but I'm slowly working my way through the different chapters. The chapter by David Powlison is probably the single best examination of the topic of suffering that I have read. He addresses the comprehensive experience of trial and brings a God-ward focus to bear in a way that is not at all trite. He plumbs the depths of despair and soars to the heights of praise. (If you have a friend who is in a long season of difficulty and you feel like you don't know what to do or say, read this chapter!) It's almost impossible to choose just one quote from this chapter, but here's a small taste:

"The problem is not that we feel troubled by trouble and pained by pain. Something hurtful should hurt. The problem is that God slides away into irrelevance when we obsess over suffering or compulsively avoid it. God inhabits a vague afterthought - weightless and distant in comparison to something immediately pressing. Or, if God-words fill our minds and pour forth from our lips, it's easy to make the "god" we cry out to someone who will magically make everything better if we can only catch his ear.

The real God is up to better things. He says and does weighty and immediate things that engage what you are facing. He pursues purposes that are better than you imagine. He refuses to become your lucky charm who makes all the bad things disappear from your world."

There are a few other resources that deserve mention. The chapter "Responding Humbly to Trials" in C.J. Mahaney's Humility is one I have re-visited a few times. And Pete Greasley's seminar message, "When Crisis Comes," impacted me and stuck with me when I heard it at a conference. (And hey! It looks like the MP3 and outline are being offered for free! Go forth and download!)

I know there are a lot of excellent resources about suffering; these few have shaped how I think and feel about the suffering I have faced, making it a little less incomprehensible and therefore a little easier to endure. Take up and read, and to God be all the glory.

Edited to add: I just saw this review on Challies.com; looks intriguing enough to be the next book on suffering that I read...

Renovations

I've made a few updates to my sidebar: quoted the verse that gave me my blog title, added a couple of new blog links, and reset the link to my church's new website. As most of you know, I work for my church, and we've been very busy preparing for a new church name and new meeting location. If you look at the website, you can see a little bit of what I've been up to (I helped to design the new logo). With work as busy as it has been, I've only had time for some light-hearted blog posts lately. But I'm storing up some more serious thoughts. In the meantime, if one is deprived of opportunities to poke fun at one's reproductive system, what other topic to turn to than chipmunks?

Alas, Poor Chipmunk

What do these two pictures have in common? The one on the left is Thelonius Monk, legendary jazz pianist. The one on the right is (a look-alike of) Thelonius Chipmunk, legendary resident of our patio.

When we first moved to our current apartment in July of 2004, it did not take us long to make the acquaintance of the chipmunk whose burrow had an entrance just off of our first-floor patio. He could frequently be seen scampering across the cement deck, frolicking onto a low brick wall by the front door, scurrying down his hole in the mud near the tree in front of our bedroom window. Since he was sort of like an outdoor pet, we named him: Thelonius. (Yes, we're jazz nerds that way.)

During our second summer as neighbors to Theolnius, friends from Texas came to visit us - friends who had never seen chipmunks before. One of them (*cough* Rishi *cough*) pointed out our sliding glass doors and exclaimed, "What is that on your deck, a hamster?" No, that's Thelonius.

In the spring, we looked forward to seeing Thelonius emerge from hibernation. In the summer, I waged friendly wars with Thelonius over his propensity to molest my flowers. The first time I tried to plant flowers, I set a large box planter on the ground; every morning, the soil would be flung across the patio, and the roots of the flowers would be exposed. I was baffled by this - and blaming the Canadian geese - until one day I caught Thelonius red-pawed. He was perched on the end of the box, digging a corner of dirt up wildly, until he noticed me watching him through the glass doors and darted off with a guilty look. I bought a plant stand, and that seemed to place the impatiens safely out of his reach. This summer, I added a second stand and pot, and I planted begonia bulbs. I guess bulbs were more tempting to a chipmunk busy stocking up for winter, because he managed to find a way to climb and dig them up. We had a stand-off one day; I sat on the sofa trying to surreptitiously observe how he would get up the 3-foot-tall stand, and Thelonius tried to sneak past my watching eyes (hiding under the threshold of the sliding doors, crouching on a doormat, slinking into a bucket). He won that battle of wills, and I never did figure out how he climbed into the planter. That felonious Thelonius...

Did you know that chipmunks chirp? Sometimes in the mornings, we would wake up to a high-pitched sort of squeak repeating over and over. We thought it was a bird. But it was Thelonius.

A few weeks ago, I realized that I hadn't seen Thelonius for a while. I've been on the lookout for him, but he seems to be gone. My dad once scoffed at our certainty that the same chipmunk had inhabited our patio during our entire tenure here, so we did a little research and learned that chipmunks have a lifespan of two to three years. I guess Thelonius has reached the end of that span. It seems strange to contemplate another year of leasing here without him. I hope he had a happy chipmunk life and a peaceful end. (I really hope I didn't poison him by introducing fertilizer to my begonias in a desperate attempt to get them to bloom in the everlasting shade that falls on our patio.) After recent rains, the little hole that enters Thelonius' burrow seems to have been permanently covered up.

Rest in peace, Thelonius Chipmunk. Unincorporated Lisle just won't be the same without you.

Four Things

A friend from church sent this in an e-mail, and I thought it might be fun to fill out and post. If it looks fun to you, too, feel free to leave a comment saying you've posted your answers and a link for where to read them (or post your answers in the comments if you don't have a blog of your own).

Four Things about Me

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. salesperson at Banana Republic
2. receptionist for a radio station
3. phone-a-thon caller (fundraising) for Wheaton College
4. church administrator

Four places I have lived:
1. Redlands, CA
2. Colorado Springs, CO
3. Annandale, VA
4. Austin, TX

TV shows I like to watch:
(This is a tough one, b/c we don't have TV. But these are shows I've enjoyed on DVD.)
1. 24
2. Foyle's War
3. Mystery! on PBS
4. House

Four places I have been on vacation:
1. Barcelona, Spain
2. Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
3. Montreal/Quebec, Canada
4. Oak Island, NC

Four of my favorite foods:
1. Heath bars
2. Avocado
3. Berries
4. Broccoli cheddar soup

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Great Britain
2. the beach (with a good book!)
3. on a bike ride
4. sitting in a rocking chair cuddling a baby of my very own

Four places I like to shop:
1. Target
2. Ann Taylor Loft
3. Crate & Barrel
4. Old Navy

Four friends I think will respond:
Um, I'm not really sure... random guesses that all begin with the letter A:
1. Annika
2. Amy
3. the other Amy
4. Amanda

10,000 and Counting

According to my stat counter, my blog has now had over 10,000* visits! Thanks to everyone who reads along!

You can scroll to the bottom of the page to see the current count of visits.

*I didn't add the stat counter until a few months after I started blogging, so we probably really reached this number a little while ago. Still, it seems like a milestone worth celebrating.

A Record of Lament

I recently wrote the last page of a journal that I keep for my devotional times. That particular journal began by documenting my struggles to put jealousy to death before the baby shower of a close friend. That friend is now expecting her second child. That journal's last entry recorded my sadness on getting the negative results from our second and most recent IVF. One small notebook, full of all the heartache of infertility and one woman's fight for faith in the midst of deferred hope...

I began a new journal by reading and meditating on a passage that has meant much to me over the past couple of years - Lamentations 3. There are some very familiar words of hope in that passage, words of new mercies, unceasing love, great faithfulness. But the wonder of those words, and what many Christians miss, is the context from which they emerge. These affirmations of God's love arise out of anguished accusations that God has afflicted the writer to the point of desolation.

"I am the man who has seen affliction under the rod of his wrath; he has driven and brought me into darkness without any light. ... He has walled me about so that I cannot escape; he has made my chains heavy; though I call and cry for help, he shuts out my prayer; he has blocked my ways with blocks of stones; he has made my paths crooked. ...my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is; so I say, 'My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the Lord.' Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me."

Those despondent cries set off an echo deep in my soul. I believe that God is absolutely sovereign, that nothing happens apart from what he specifically orchestrates. I have seen affliction, and as far as I can tell I will go on seeing affliction for a while yet - and that affliction is directly from the hand of the Lord. He has driven me into the darkness of infertility, and he has removed immediate (though not ultimate) hope from my circumstances. For now, he has shut off every means of escape from barrenness. He has blocked off the option of natural conception, he has dead-ended the road of IUIs, and he has turned aside the path of IVF. He has locked me up with childless chains that weigh heavy indeed. I have called and called for help, but he has not sent a rescue from this heartbreaking situation.

"Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?"

Infertility comes from God's hand just as surely as pregnancy and children do. Strange as it may seem, I find comfort in God's sovereignty over my suffering. If infertility falls on me as a matter of chance, or from a force of evil that God cannot bend, what hope do I have? But if this ill wind blows directly from the Lord, then it can do me no eternal harm. At times I may feel forgotten by God, and I may wonder if he remembers how I hurt, but I have a lasting assurance that the one who saved me from my sin will deliver me from evil.

"For the Lord will not cast off forever, but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love; for he does not willingly afflict or grieve the children of men."

God has caused this pain in my life, but he afflicts me with a Fatherly tenderness. In his perfect wisdom and love, he knows that this suffering is the only way to accomplish his good purposes. My deepest heartache is under the sovereign sway of a good God, a God who gave his only Son up for me. The Lord may end my infertility in a few months or a few years; he may not end my infertility until my deathbed. Either way, infertility is only temporary. God's steadfast love, secured to me by the cross, is forever. He bestows it on me abundantly now - when I sometimes only reach out for it blindly - and eternally - when I will see his love with utmost clarity.

"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

Even as I record laments over my unfulfilled desire for children, I anticipate filling up the pages of a new journal with deeper understanding of God's fresh mercies and steadfast love. Great is his faithfulness, indeed.

To Keep the Casement Open

A friend sent me the following quote after the news of the failure of the 2nd IVF:

There are times when things look very dark to me--so dark that I have to wait even for hope. It is bad enough to wait in hope. A long-deferred fulfillment carries its own pain, but to wait for hope, to see no glimmer of a prospect and yet refuse to despair; to have nothing but night before the casement and yet to keep the casement open for possible stars; to have a vacant place in my heart and yet to allow that place to be filled by no inferior presence--that is the grandest patience in the universe. It is Job in the tempest; it is Abraham on the road to Moriah; it is Moses in the desert of Midian; it is the Son of man in the Garden of Gethsemane.

There is no patience so hard as that which endures, "as seeing him who is invisible"; it is the waiting for hope.

Thou hast made waiting beautiful; Thou has made patience divine. Thou hast taught us that the Father's will may be received just because it is His will. Thou hast revealed to us that a soul may see nothing but sorrow in the cup and yet may refuse to let it go, convinced that the eye of the Father sees further than its own.

Give me this Divine power of Thine, the power of Gethsemane. Give me the power to wait for hope itself, to look out from the casement where there are no stars. Give me the power, when the very joy that was set before me is gone, to stand unconquered amid the night, and say, "To the eye of my Father it is perhaps shining still." I shall reach the climax of strength when I have learned to wait for hope.
-George Matheson

My heart feels the vacancy of children very keenly right now. My windows look out on black skies void of stars. My cup brims with sorrow. But, somehow, I trust that this drink will nourish me; that not one star is missing; that my heart can be full of my Savior though empty of children. I trust, I hold on, I wait for hope.

(Thanks, Charissa.)

Another No

At 8:30 this morning, I had blood drawn. At 1:45 this afternoon, Dr. Peppy called to say the results were negative. Hope for a pregnancy has gone into hibernation, for now.

I was graciously given the afternoon off of work. I cried for most of the drive home, managing at times to sing in a whisper along to the song "You Never Let Go" by Matt Redman. Aaron sweetly arranged for a caffeinated treat for me. Once I got home, I promptly tore off the estrogen patches and settled in to finish reading The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde.

Although I am grieving the loss of this chance for pregnancy, I feel a peace that passes understanding. Aaron and I have faith for whatever God has in store for us. Right now, I could truly say, with Job, that "though He slay me, I will hope in Him" (Job 13:15). Please pray that the Lord's grace would sustain that spirit in my heart.

We're going to take a break from infertility treatments for a little while. We have some traveling we want to do in the fall, and I'm tired of having extra hormones coursing through my body at all times. Our insurance will cover up to two more IVF attempts, so we may still use those at some point in the future. But for now, we've had enough.

Hope Flutters

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

My little bird of hope is fluttering its wings desperately against the winds of low expectations for tomorrow's results right now. Oh, Lord, give me true hope, whatever the outcome of this IVF!

Testimony

(We had the privilege of sharing this testimony about our infertility at church this morning. To hear the audio version - and a really outstanding message - see the sermon from 7.29.2007 here.)

We have been married for 4 ½ years. A little over a year into our marriage, we were eager to grow our family by having kids. However, for financial reasons, it seemed wise to wait a year before starting to try for children. Little did we know, that wait was just the beginning of a very difficult season.

We had been trying to conceive for about six months when we started to get worried. The months continued to pass, and we scheduled a visit with the doctor. At first, our doctor did not take our concerns very seriously, so we delayed testing for a few months. Then when we did have tests run, the results were read incorrectly and we were told there was no problem, when in fact there was. Finally, almost a year and a half after we began trying to have children, we got a referral to an infertility specialist. It took a few months to complete further testing, and in July 2006 we began fertility treatments. Of the various medications and procedures that we have tried, nothing has worked yet.

The suffering of infertility has squeezed us in so many ways. Scripture tells us that having children is good and God-honoring, that children are a reward, and yet our desire for children has gone unfulfilled. Unlike most sorrow that gradually subsides, our grief for the children missing from our home is renewed and heightened month after month. While we have been trying to conceive, we have watched all of our friends get pregnant and have babies, and many of them have gone on to get pregnant and even give birth again. There are unique challenges to being infertile in a very fertile church (although there is no church where we would rather be)! Our infertility treatments require frequent doctor appointments and invasive, intensive medical procedures. As husband and wife, we have experienced different reactions to infertility, and that has sometimes led to misunderstanding and conflict – however, our marriage has grown richer and stronger and closer as we endure trial together.

In the teeth of this trial, we have had to fight hard to cling to God’s sovereignty and goodness. Those truths have rarely been self-evident over the past 2 ½ years; the circumstances of infertility have seemed to veil God’s power and kindness. When we ask why we have not been allowed to conceive when it happens so easily for others, when we ask why God will not heal us or answer our pleas to have children, there are no easy answers. But as every false hope is stripped away, we find a firm hope in our Savior. When we think that conception is impossible for us, we remember that all things are possible with the One who became incarnate through a virgin birth. When we wonder if we could earn children by just praying harder or by learning some spiritual lesson, we recall that our actions will always fall short of earning us anything, but that Jesus lived a perfect life on our behalf. When we are tempted to see infertility as some sort of cosmic punishment, we rest in the truth that we are justified in Christ who once and for all turned away the wrath of God by bearing it on the cross. When we worry that the Lord has forsaken us and favored other couples, we revisit the cries of the Son forsaken by his Father so that we would never be. When we feel like no one understands the depth of our heartache, we return to Gethsemane and witness the Savior with a soul sorrowful to the point of death, intimately acquainted with anguish. When we lose the words and the faith to ask again and again for a child, we rely on the Great High Priest who intercedes on our behalf before the throne of God. When our bodies feel broken, when our flesh fails, when we weep and wail, we raise our eyes to the Risen One who will restore his fallen creation and wipe away every tear. The gospel proves God’s sovereignty and goodness, even when we have no idea how God will work infertility to a good end. We have no guarantees that we will ever have children, but we do have a secure salvation.

Time does not permit us to detail every way that God has grown us through this trial. We have learned so much from Scripture, from fellow believers, and from godly authors. Time also does not permit us to thank everyone who has prayed for us, encouraged us, and practically cared for us. You as a church have helped us to carry the burden of infertility over these past years. We look forward to seeing your prayers answered and to join with you in watching God’s goodness unfold.

Saline Sonogram PSA

Imagine, if you will, a sound like electronic chimes as your screen is emblazoned with a rainbow and these words: The More You Know...

This is my saline sonogram public service announcement. Every day, a few people stumble on to my blog using the search terms "saline sonogram." They end up at this post, which probably doesn't offer much help if you're about to have the procedure done and wondering what to expect. So here's one patient's view of the saline sonogram.

A saline sonogram, like its cousin the hysterosalpingogram (HSG), forms part of the standard infertility work-up. Judging by infertility blogs and message boards, the HSG is more commonly done. Both saline sonograms and HSGs are diagnostic tools. By filling the uterus and fallopian tubes with fluid, doctors can check for structural abnormalities or blockages. As far as I can tell, there are only two essential differences between the two: the HSG uses dye and an X-ray, while the saline sonogram uses, as its name implies, salt-water and an ultrasound.

I've had two saline sonograms - one during the diagnostic process after being referred to an RE (reproductive endocrinologist), and one done as a mock embryo transfer prior to my first IVF. My nurse recommended taking Advil an hour or so before my appointment. The doctor used a speculum, just like in a Pap smear, and then she cleaned the cervix to prepare for the catheter. I didn't find this part very uncomfortable; Pap smears don't bother me too much, either, if that's any indication for you. Then, guided by ultrasound (I think vaginal, but I honestly can't remember), the doctor threads the catheter through the cervix into the uterus. In my experience, this is uncomfortable but not painful; it feels like a pinch. After the catheter is clearly in the uterus, the saline is pumped through to fill the uterus, flood the fallopian tubes, and hopefully spill right out. This is when I felt some strong cramps. On a pain scale of 1-10, I'd put them at around a 6. They made me grit my teeth, but not gasp in anything close to agony. And then, it's done! All the foreign objects get removed from your body, the water comes gushing back out, and the saline sonogram is over. The first time I had it done, I rested at home for the rest of the day. The second time, I went straight to work afterwards.

So there you have one person's experience of the saline sonogram. I'm not a medical professional, and not all saline sonograms or patients are exactly the same, but hopefully this gives you some idea of what to expect. Good luck!

Any readers who have had a saline sonogram? Feel free to add extra details or your own experience in the comments.

How NOT to Distract Yourself after a Blastocyst Transfer

Today, a couple of the perils of working at home hit, well, home. During our last IVF in May, resting at home after the retrieval and transfer was a delightful novelty because, wow, I never get to spend this much time inside my own cozy four walls! This time, not so much a novelty. I'm usually at home anyway. So now I'm bored and stir-crazy. I've been reading, but that leads me to the second pitfall of working at home. Today, I received a package from Amazon, and I was all eager excitement in thinking that the remedy to my boredom had arrived. You know that smile on the outside of Amazon boxes? Well, that smile is a LIE, because that box did not contain the pretty pretty British version of the seventh Harry Potter book that I had to order from the UK to match the rest of my set that I started reading and collecting during a summer in England. No, that box held books that I had ordered for work. Books that are not for me. Books that will not entertain me during this interminable Monday. Alas and alack!

While I'm on the topic of things that I do not like today, let's talk about estrogen patches. My current opinion: they just might be the worst part of this whole IVF process. The shots, sure they hurt, but they are over and done with quickly. The patches? Slow torture. The large, shiny things stick and un-stick in the most ungainly way. The two that I applied last night to my stomach crinkle and buckle every time I move. They have started to peel off, and I'm still supposed to wear these two for about 28 more hours before I exchange them for new ones. I've applied butterfly bandages (the best adhesive I had on hand; note to self: buy surgical tape at Target) to their edges, and now five different sticky things are sliding around my skin and adhering to each other instead. Maybe I can find a better place to apply them, but for now they have been bothering me all day long. They even bother my unconscious! Last night, I dreamt that I had some sort of heart attack due to too many hormones coursing through my body. Some medical person told my recovering, breathless, heart-racing self that it was because I had worn two estrogen patches instead of one. "Nurse Answers told me to wear two!" I protested, only to discover that I had a new version of the patch, one that was twice the size and twice the dose of the ones that the fertility clinic had used before. So I had, in fact, overdosed on estrogen patches based on outdated instructions. That was my dream, played out in my sleeping mind within the first seven hours of wearing these silly patches. They are not my favorite.

Of course, all the book-less boredom and pestering patches will be worth it if this blastocyst takes hold and gives us good news in a week...

*By the way, what do you all think of the new font size? Before my transition to working at home, I worked on a behemoth of a desktop that had a monitor with very low resolution, so I only recently realized that I might have been making you all very squint-eyed with my type. Apologies if that was the case!

On the Bright Side, a Day-6 Transfer Means We Only Have to Wait 8 Days for the Pregnancy Test...

I woke up this morning feeling a little anxious about the transfer. Would we get a call saying not to come in at all because none of the embryos had survived the night? Would we show up to find out we had four thriving blastocysts and be forced to argue with our doctor that we were willing to take on the risks of high order multiples in order to be just to the all of the lives that we had created? We had plenty of time before we had to be at the clinic, so Aaron and I decided to head to Starbucks (coffee for him, steamed milk for me!) for breakfast and Bible-reading. I read Philippians 4, and it eased my nerves to be reoriented to God's truth. The Lord is at hand, so I do not need to worry. I took some time to thank God for our embryos and for the chance to do IVF. I prayed for our transfer to go well and for the peace of Christ to guard my mind and my heart.

After breakfast, we headed into the city. We had to wait for a while at the clinic, and then we had to wait some more in the room where the transfer would be done. Finally, the doctor came to tell us the status of our embryos. Of the four that fertilized, one had arrested at 10-cells and two had degenerated and were dying. Only one - an early blastocyst - was in good condition to be transferred. What a mix of emotions at that announcement! We felt sorrow for the embryos that had died, but we felt relief that we weren't going to be potentially faced with a high-risk situation. It was definitely a time to take refuge in God's sovereignty and goodness. So we transferred the one, and now we wait...

Day 6 Transfer?

I didn't even know a day-6 transfer was an option, but I guess that's what we're doing. The phone rang at 8 a.m. this morning, and as soon as the caller announced she was from the IVF center, my heart sank and I assumed that none of our embryos had survived. Then she said that they are pushing our transfer back until tomorrow because of how the embryos were developing and asked if I wanted to get more details from someone in the lab. Um, yes, please! The person from the embryology lab said that all four embryos are still growing, but that they are a little slow. They want them to "impact" before transfer, whatever that means. (I'm guessing that "impacting" is when the cells start to cluster into separate areas for the baby and placenta, but Google searches for "blastocyst embryo impacting" didn't yield much information.) According to the lab tech, this is now the most critical day for the development of the embryos. So I don't know whether to be glad that all four embryos are at least still growing, or whether to be upset that they are lagging behind. The surge of hope that I felt earlier this week when I learned we were going to let the embryos develop to blasts has dissipated now. I cling to the truth that, in God's sovereignty, not one cell is missing from our embryos. I do still believe that God will show himself to be good, even if this IVF doesn't result in pregnancy.

Isaiah 40:25-26 To whom then will you compare me, that I should be like him? says the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high and see: who created these? He who brings out their host by number, calling them all by name, by the greatness of his might, and because he is strong in power not one is missing.