Today, I want to share with you the testimony of Jennifer from our Barren to Beautiful Community Facebook Group. Jen had reached out to me sharing this beautiful and surprising story of God’s kindness and mercy after 7 years of secondary infertility. With her permission, I wanted to share with you the “hope” that her story sings of, even when doctors told her she was “too old.” Nothing is impossible for our God, and with that, I share her story today, giving all glory to God.
Jennifer’s Testimony
I had always been told that if I were going to get pregnant, I would probably “need help” because of my medical issues (Type 1 Diabetes, PCOS, Hashimotos disease.) In 2011, I went for my yearly appointment. My doctor mentioned that if I wanted to try to get pregnant we should start talking about it, since I wasn’t getting any younger (I was 33). I told him next year we would discuss options. At the time, a lot was going on. A couple days later the office called and said my testosterone way high and I should call my endocrinologist. I went online to look to see if any other bloodwork came back off and the pregnancy test was positive. My son, Cole, was born at 35 weeks via emergency C-section. He was in NICU for 12 days and is now the world’s greatest big brother.
Over the next 7 years we kept trying to get pregnant again. We went to two different reproductive endocrinologists, tried 6 months of Clomid. Nothing was happening.
As Cole got older, it became hard for him not having a brother or sister. He would often say he was lonely and sad because he was an only child. Once when he was around 5-years-old, he was sitting with me, crying, because he wanted a sibling. I told him all we can do is pray to God. He said, “I’ve been praying to God for a brother or sister for 3 and a half years, that’s more than enough time to make a baby!” I told him God doesn’t always work on our timelines, but was starting to doubt that we would ever be blessed again.
In October 2019, I was cleaning out the bathroom drawers at 1 a.m. and found a pregnancy test. I hadn’t had a period in a while (they had never been normal), so I figured I’d take it. It turned positive right away. I was so excited and so nervous. However, before my 1st O.B. appointment I started bleeding.
On November 7th, it was confirmed that I was having a miscarriage.
I was so angry.
Angry at my body.
Angry at people who could easily get pregnant and have healthy babies.
Angry at the doctor whose response was, “Well, you’re old, it happens all the time.” (I was 41.)
But most of all, I was angry at God.
How dare he let me find out I had something that I had hoped and prayed for for years only to take it away?
What kind of cruel, horrible God would do that?
We chose the name Hope for our baby we lost–even though at only 8 weeks we didn’t know if they were a boy or girl. Just the fact that I was able to get pregnant gave us “hope” that maybe it was possible again.
***
By the end of 2020, we were starting to think we were going to be a one-child family. There was no way we could afford IVF or private adoption. We started looking into adopting through foster care, but that didn’t seem very promising. I had been tracking my cycles and basal body temperatures. However, in the beginning of July 2021 the temperatures weren’t dropping, so I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. My due date would be exactly a week before my 44th birthday. All I could think of was the previous doctor saying that I was “old” 2 years before.
“I’m even older now, how am I not going to lose this baby?” I wondered.
Nonetheless, I made an appointment with a different practice and they were amazing. They were all so supportive and positive. I was put on blood pressure medication around 20 weeks, and developed pre-eclampsia around 30 weeks. On February 8, 2022, I had an appointment at 11:45 AM. From there, I was sent to the women’s hospital and my son, Caz, was delivered via C-section at 3:14 pm. He was 36 weeks 1 day. There were people from the NICU in the OR ready to take him, but he didn’t need to go. The one nurse said he was blowing all the other baby’s out of the water, he was doing so well.
If I had any doubt about God’s love or abilities, those are gone now.
He knew exactly what we needed and gave it to us at exactly the right time.
Looking up name meanings,”Acaz” can mean either, “destroyer of peace,” or “bringer of peace.” Yes, the peace of a good night’s sleep as been destroyed, but the peace that this little boy has brought to my heart and soul is immeasurable.
Thanks for letting me share my story. Here are a couple pictures:
Baby Caz is born weeks before his mother’s 44th birthday.
Caz at his Christening.
–Jen
This is Jen’s personal testimony–to read more women’s testimonies, you can find over 20 testimonies of God healing barren wombs, healing barren souls, and sometimes healing both, here on this page of testimonies. I pray that God does heal every barren woman who cries for a baby, but I know that sometimes, He does not. I have witnessed many joys, but also deep sorrows in this tender ministry.
Though I cannot promise anyone a baby, I can promise you a River. His name is Jesus Christ, and if you drink of Him, you shall never be thirsty again. He is the only sure and lasting hope in this world and the next. He is the only Rock, I know of no other. So, while I pray for your womb to heal, your heart to heal, I can only commend you completely and utterly to Him. Allow Him to guide you, to be your tender Shepherd, and lead you to His Living Water, to Himself. He alone will satisfy you.
If you are looking for ways to get started, I created this free 5-day devotional download for you, and would love to have you sign up to receive it here:
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