No baby has blessed my womb
Disgrace my lot, disgrace my doom
Never feeling the growing inside
I said I was OK with it. I lied.
Never feeling touch, skin to skin
No offspring from me, no next of kin
Never seeing eyes open in wonder
No baby, my heart asunder
Never hearing cries in the night
No baby, barren womb, my plight
Fighting the depression and grief
My heart it aches, finding no relief
Being the outsider looking in
I wonder, Is this punishment for my sin
Am I destined to always be alone
To be single, always on my own
Is it because God seems so far
And my body is scar after scar
God says I am a valuable treasure
God says I bring Him pleasure
I am not sure how that can be
Surely God doesn’t see what I see
Disgrace oozing from my soul
Broken pieces, nothing ever whole
Does He see I don’t belong
Does He know my struggles are lifelong
Feeling downtrodden, feeling a misfit
Fighting, Fighting, Fighting to not quit
Please God wrap me in Your arms
Please God, shield me from all harms
Take the depression from my brain
Please God, my grief and sadness contain
Please God, penetrate my aching heart
God, help me feel like a work of art
Please God, show truth for I believe lies
God, help me to feel like a prize.
Becky Schulthess has lived her entire life in Wisconsin and loves to see the seasons change. She writes as a way to process through the ups and downs of her healing journey. She is a lover of learning, graduating in 2016 with a Masters in Biblical Studies and anticipating graduating in 2021 with a Masters in Management and Leadership. She is passionate about using both the positive and negative experiences in her life to encourage others. It is her desire for her story to bring hope to those around her.
Becky, my heart both aches and rejoices with yours this morning. Ache over deep loss and grief. Rejoicing that I saw your face and read your words here. You are a prize in my life and the lives of many. You are a treasure just because. And you are so loved. Thank you for continuing to show up and for fighting for your heart. I am with you. Keep writing and sharing your powerful, tender words.
I pray for peace for you and that God more clearly reveals His perfect plan for you. The raw cry of your story was hard to read, but the gift of your writing was a joy. I invite you to grade your life with a green pen because a green pen marks everything that is right and good.
I await your next story.
Becky, thank you for the gift of your authenticity. I pray for you to feel so lovingly wrapped in God’s arms. Truth over lies. Truth over lies. Truth. Love. Kindness. Love.
Girl. We could so talk as I went through 10+ years of infertility and ended up with a not-to-traditional manner of achieving those children, then went through 20+ years of a spiritual war about that choice. I pray that you are illuminated by the Father of what path to take in your life. Such a raw, exquisite piece!
Becky, reading your words this morning brought back so many memories. I was born in Wisconsin and raised in Minnesota. I too cried out to God on a daily basis the words from your poem – just not so eloquently. I too struggle/d with the feeling like God had forgotten about me. I watched my cousins and friends have child after child after child. I felt like the bridesmaid and never the chosen one. I felt second to everyone and everything. I moved to Seattle in my early thirties, partly to escape and make a new life for myself. My body often ached when I held a small child, only to have to return this gift from God to the mother. I desperately wanted my own child, my own little one to cradle and share all that my parents had given me – love, grace, experiences, cuddles, and the wonderment of Gods presence in their life.
For a long time (11 years) I dated a man with 5 children. It wasn’t till 6 years into our relationship that I meet his teenagers and young adults. I didn’t want to experience the pain that goes with a break-up. I didn’t want to tell a child that I was leaving their life, because their father and I weren’t good together. I’d done it once, in my 20’s and I didn’t want to repeat that scenario. Then one day he asked me to marry him, I was 47 and he 54. I became the step-mother of 5 almost fully grown children. In some ways I see this as God answering my prayers for children — just that the exact answer I wanted. I love and care for these young adults as if they were my own. There mother is great. She welcomes me with Christ filled arms. I now have 11 grandchild and one more arriving around Valentines day. I’m Grandma Luci, something I never thought I would experience. I also have two God-daughters age 17 and 29 and a brand new little girl, born this past Veterans day, to the 29 year old God-daughter.
For the last 8 years my husband and I have been in-home family caregivers to my aging mother, who just turned 92. Sadly she has ever increasing dementia (late stage) now and we’ve called upon a hospice team. My heart aches. I miss her already. She rarely knows who I am – if ever. But I do hear her talk about Luci, as if she was a little girl. My husband is amazing with her, more than I could have ever dreamed. He works from home and is often the one feeding and talking with my her; which allows me to serve others – as well – in my church community.
I share all of this to say, don’t give up! Keep praying to our God. Stay strong, even when you feel the world crashing down on you. God does answer prayers — just not always as we want our savior to. I still have ache that I never bore a child in my womb. That I didn’t get the opportunity to raise an infant to adulthood. I still feel like I’ve been second in almost everything in my life – always the bridesmaid. I continue to ask God to ‘wrap me in Your arms’. There are daily struggles, but with ‘the trinity’ I pray to wake each morning with grace and love in my heart.
Luci, 61 and living my best life in Seattle.
Like others, I too have been through infertility. We ultimately adopted 2 babies, one from Korea. It was the most wonderful time, but I wanted to share, although everyone knows this, there are no guarantees. My first, my son, now almost 40, became a radical prodigal and remains so. There has been much, much heartbreak over him. I don’t share that to ease your pain, as I know it wouldn’t, only to share that in all my dreams before I had children, that is not what I pictured. Praying for you, for His comfort and peace to fill you up to overflowing. Blessings.♥
You name a truth so deep…the wound cuts clean to the bone. You dare name brutal reality as hope and prayer. I am breathless. May breath fill your lungs as you inhale the Grace you’ve bestowed to me tonight. May blessings lift and comfort you in this ache, this agony of love and desire. So good. Thank you.