When God's plan isn't obvious

Have you ever experienced a nightmare of such magnitude that you were startled awake by the inability to obtain air into your lungs? Your anatomy seems to be reorganizing itself, making your chest an honorary part of your back due to the enormous amount of pressure weighing on you. Over the past 25 years, I have had this recurring nightmare, which is so strong that I can still feel its effects hours after waking up. My face is contorted and defies physics, as if I were being cast for a horror film. My face and pillow are both covered in leftover makeup from the previous night, making me look like an abomination.

Contextually, this nightmare that has followed me for the past 25 years is the same. The aesthetics of the hospital, the similarly dismal interior of the emergency rooms, and the different staff workers performing the same traumatic process are the only things that alter. Their expressions mix surprise and dismay with a skeptical glance that asks, “Is this actually happening?”

However, compared to earlier times, this one feels more genuine. My stomach feels like it is about to burst because it is as rigid as a rock. Life is moving inside of me, consuming all of my energy as it fights for nutrition to survive. I haven’t felt this feeling before, which makes me even more eager. It’s unclear in this nightmare, but I’m sharing this adventure with either my mother or my daughter. These life forms will be born within the same day, that will forever be regarded as the day the impossible finally happened.

My abdomen begins to contract and loosen as the unidentified individual is wheeled out of view to start their birthing procedure. I can clearly see what is happening, yet I start to feel as though the world is closing in around me. My mind is overtaken by thoughts of never having children, and the room starts to spin. This must not happen once more. The time was supposed to be NOW.

I hope that my husband is an apparition since I think I see him briefly. I’m being engulfed by a sensation of dread that is all too familiar. I shout at the top of my lungs, yet nothing comes out. I scream for someone to stop making fun of me and telling me that the child I will have with my spouse was just a figment of my imagination. I want someone to reassure me that a baby has been born this time and that the world is not so cruel as to trick me into thinking I’m pregnant while denying me the chance to ever have children. Why is this incident causing so much heartache?

My husband is now right in front of me, heading toward me with that unmistakable expression of recognition. He is cognizant that he’ll never have an heir of his own. He is mindful that he will be the only son in his family without children. He is making an effort to be strong for me because he is aware that I am my parents’ only child and there will be no grandkids for them. He has no color in his face due to his anguish, and it is all he can do to keep from passing out.

My dreaming body realizes at this moment that the anguish is so severe that it is hurting physically as I struggle to breathe. I immediately remember that I am the reason there are no children and struggle to breathe while clutching the covers. My inability to have children repeatedly dashes the hopes of my husband and family.

Why does my body deny me the ability to function ten years later when this nightmare is so real? Why else would the Lord give my husband and me the chance to foster and later adopt three lovely children more than six years ago? Why must my head and emotions bear this weight as if a scarlet letter were written on my chest and I were being humiliated in public for being infertile?

I sit here in the aftermath of this recurrent nightmare unable to close my eyes for fear of seeing myself barren and the pain it has caused. As this pain rushes through me, I type with burning fingers in an effort to let others know they are not alone. that I’m not by myself.

I can only thank God for the gift of three beautiful children, although not of flesh and blood, who bear a bond with us that surpasses anything I can imagine. The love I have for them, and my husband are unparallel, falling short just to the love God has for me and you. I have experienced a joy that is so beyond anything I am deserving of, yet this nightmare continues to come and try to steal this joy. May I always be able to praise God through this and every coming storm as I know He is good all the time and all the time He is GOOD!