My sister-in-law lent me a book last month called “Hannah’s Hope”
by Jennifer Saake. It was a great read. This book addresses the very real pain of trying to grow a
family and coming up short – and weaves in the story of Hannah (mother of the
prophet Samuel) and her long journey towards motherhood.
What I found especially interesting about this author was
the fact that she does not distinguish between the different trials associated
with growing a family. Pain is still pain and loss is still loss whether you’ve
struggled with infertility, have miscarried, suffered an adoption loss, or had
a still-born child.
I found this to be a valuable insight because it seems to be
an easy thing to slip into a place where you believe that your pain is deeper
than anyone else’s. “No one has hurt like I do. No one understands. No one has
been through my unique situation.” It is a dark and painful place to be.
However, reading about or talking to people who have been
through similar situations shakes us out of this dream world and offers a
helping hand. “Wait, you’ve had thoughts like I’ve had? I thought I was the
only one.”
This equality of pain that Saake talks about has
the benefit of erasing the barriers between those with slightly different
experiences. Sometimes we judge our pain to be unique and elevate it above
those whose story is different. For
example, those who are infertile can be jealous of those who miscarry – “At least
they know they can get pregnant.” And those who lose a baby may not see
themselves on the same plane as those whose adoption falls through – “They didn’t
really lose their baby in the same way. Mine is dead and theirs is still alive
somewhere.”
Another common hang-up is judging people who go through
these same experiences while in expectation of their second child – “They already have
one. They should be happy with that. Some people have none.” But, as the author
points out, most people profess that they would like to have kids (plural), not just one child, and
it can be just as painful to work towards extending your family further and having
no luck as it is to try for the very first time.
All in all, this book taught me that I’m not alone. Many
women have been (and still are) in my place. The author herself went through not
just one, but each of the experiences listed above…some of them several times! She
had several miscarriages, at least one still birth, and a string of
unsuccessful adoptions (some even orchestrated by scam artists.) She knows a
lot about pain! And the message of her book does not conclude that “everything
will be fine and you WILL have a child,” but instead encourages abiding in God’s
plan. We can’t know what is ahead until we’re through it. We don’t know how our
story will end. But God is good and He is faithful, and He has a history of
opening wombs. Children are something near and dear to His heart and the Bible
is plumb full of stories about women who waited many years until they were
blessed with children. So that is
something.
On another note, Saake offers practical advice to those who
want to come alongside their childless friends and be supportive. There is a
portion at the end of each chapter called, Burden
Bearers that describes helpful things to say (or NOT to say such as, “Just
adopt!” or “Take one of mine! Kids are such a handful!”) I really enjoyed how
frank and honest she was in these sections.
In closing, I highly recommend this book to anyone going
through infertility and the associated grief – or if you have a friend going
through it. Also, I should note that this author and her husband started a
ministry 10 years ago called “Hannah’s Prayer Ministries” that offers resources
and guidance to families struggling with fertility. Check out the link to the website below for more information.
www.hannah.org
