Editorial: Family Priorities II

About a year and a half after our daughter Christine was born, my wife Jackie became pregnant again. As with our first child, that pregnancy was achieved with the help of fertility drugs. We were hopeful that that pregnancy would produce a healthy baby as the first pregnancy had. However, after the great difficulties we had had in achieving pregnancy, we were also anxious. This time, our fears were justified. Within just a couple of weeks, Jackie began to bleed. The baby was dead.

When he learned of this, the pastor phoned and offered to visit. We declined. We were heartbroken, and we were surprised when many of those around us could not understand our pain and did not know what to say. We did not know how to seek comfort, and did not know what we would have liked from other people. What we really wanted was to have another baby.

Shortly afterward, we moved to Winnipeg so I could begin work at the Herald. We told our new church care group that their job was to pray for us to have another child. We kept hoping and trying, but nothing was happening.

Eventually, Jackie tried a new, stronger series of drugs that cost hundreds of dollars a month, forced the ovaries to produce extra eggs and then forced the ovaries to release those eggs at the appropriate time. The drugs had serious side effects. They caused considerable pain, and they forced the ovaries to swell up to the point that they could burst, risking Jackie's life. The drugs also strengthened the usual monthly mood swings.

It was a scary, anxious and lonely time. It seemed that our friends could not understand the depth of our desire to have children, or the anxiety that the process created.

One friend gently suggested that there were other things in life and that we should not put so much energy and concern into this one area. (He himself had fathered two daughters and had been satisfied with that.) I agreed that if we knew for sure that we could not have more children, we would accept it and get on with other things, but added that since there was a chance we would be successful, we wanted to keep trying. I appreciated his honesty in talking about this difficult matter openly.

So we kept trying, but nothing happened. Eventually, we were forced to give up. The pain became too great--not so much the pain caused by the fertility shots but primarily the pain of the mood swings and the constant disappointment. We just couldn't take the emotional anguish anymore. Reluctantly, we accepted the fact that we had been given one child and got busy with other things.

Then the miracle happened. When we were no longer trying to have a baby, Jackie inexplicably got pregnant.

Two months later, she began to bleed. We knew a little more this time. We called the church elders and asked them to pray for the baby and anoint Jackie with oil. After an anxious weekend, we went to the hospital for tests. The baby was dead. We tried to shield Christine from the turmoil by having her stay with a friend while Jackie was in hospital; although we had told her nothing, she told her kindergarten teacher that the baby and probably Mommy also had died; she never wanted to stay with the friend again.

That was without a doubt the lowest point of our lives. I vividly remember sitting in church the next Sunday, listening to the congregation singing "God is so good" and hearing Jackie say, "God is not good. My baby is dead." But she was in church, like the psalmist taking her complaint directly to God, and God honoured that. Eventually, healing came, and trust revived.

I still don't understand it all. Although some people tried to tell us that everything comes from God and everything is good, I am not convinced. Death and evil remain evil things. It is not a good thing when children and other human beings die tragically. However, I also know that God brings good out of evil. We know that we have two other children in heaven; one we were convinced is a son. We also learned to value our daughter Christine more and to realize how blessed we are to have her. We were also blessed with the addition of an adopted daughter, Jaeda. Through it all, Jackie and I were drawn closer together, not driven apart as has happened to many infertile and grieving couples. We wrestled with God in ways we would not have otherwise, and learned, "Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him" (Job 13:15). Though we do not understand, we are still convinced that it is people that matter most to God, and we rest in His comfort that is beyond understanding.

Jim Coggins

Return to the M.B.Herald Vol. 36, No. 10 Home Page