by Anna Mayer
“I had a tumor the size of a grapefruit removed,’’ my new friend said, her swollen belly heavy with new life. I quickly took down the phone number of her doctor.
At my appointment, his words encouraged me. Three days before my wedding, a doctor had told me I had an intrauterine fibroid tumor, too small for surgery to be effective. He had told me not to risk becoming pregnant, but this new doctor said, “Try to become pregnant.’’
From a recent medical journal, he read that for someone with my condition, the chances of carrying a baby to term were good. Also, a possibility existed that the pregnancy itself could decrease the size of the tumor.
But after numerous check-ups, procedures, and visits to specialists, I did not become pregnant. My belly became larger, but only because the tumor inside me was growing.
I was sure, though, that God would provide us with children, and I prayed constantly for them, for their future spouses, and for the grandchildren we would have someday. My prayers were a mixture of desperation and longing and of hope in someone and something larger than I. They were emotionally similar to the prayers I had lifted up at 32 years of age, still single, wanting to be married. “Lord,” I had cried then, “you know the best man in the world for me. Lead us together. Prepare our home for the children you want us to have.’’
But at my next appointment, my doctor said there was danger of hemorrhage. A date was set, and the surgery was performed.
With family and friends beside him in the waiting room, the doctor told my husband Jim, “Anna’s tumor was the size of a soccer ball, and her ovaries were stretched out of shape and covered with endometriosis. We had to remove everything.’’
Jim wept, not so much for the children we could no longer have, but for me. I had hoped and trusted. Now those hopes were gone. Would that trust remain?
Friends and family sent flowers and cards, wishing me well and encouraging me to “hang in there.’’ They assured me of their prayers.
I felt strangely peaceful. Surely God would replace the emptiness of my womb in His way, with His provision.
While I was grieving, God did provide an outlet. A 2-year-old adopted by a friend a few weeks after my surgery kept me busy. While she went to work, I watched her precious child. My days were full. I thanked God in advance for His provision for children for Jim and me.
To be continued
Worth repeating: The Bible says, “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see’’ (Hebrews 1:1).
Today’s prayer: “Dear God, when I am disappointed, help me to remember that You alone know the end from the beginning. Amen.