A vasectomy might seem like a strange place to begin a baby story, but you could say our story began there. My husband had a vasectomy in 1999 after the birth of our third child. Three children seemed a little radical to us in the two-child world where we lived at the time, and we opted for a vasectomy after number three without much thought.
But by the year 2000, our perspectives were changing. “Vasectomies can be reversed,” said a friend when I expressed my regret about the vasectomy. But we had made our choice, and I figured we would have to live with it. Still, the desire for more children grew in my heart and my husband’s. In 2003, I asked another friend to pray for me about our desire and I heard those words again: “Vasectomies can be reversed.” But googling “vasectomy reversal” on the Internet only confirmed that a baby after a reversal was a long-shot for us. Even if the reversal were successful, it seemed more and more unlikely that a baby would follow, given that I was almost 40 years old at the time.
Later, we attended a homeschooling conference where a speaker commended the desire for “a quiver full” of children. He shared the biblical truth that children are a blessing and the desire for children is a good thing. This truth gave us boldness! I scheduled a physical. My doctor had no medical qualms about a child after 40 in our case. We googled reversals again and found a doctor to perform the reversal procedure. We scheduled the appointment and waited five months for his first opening. The waiting was hard! By the time the reversal was performed, I was 41 and my husband was 45. Still, we were optimistic and grateful for the opportunity to undo the decision we regretted.
A year passed with no pregnancy. Then, I saw the wonderful sign in the window of the home pregnancy test. I giddily rushed to the doctor to begin prenatal care, but blood work and an ultrasound were not encouraging. A couple of weeks later, we learned that we were miscarrying. This was not what we had hoped for or ever imagined. But our 9-year-old daughter spoke truth to my heart when, through her tears, she said, “God has a good plan.”
No sooner had we recovered from the miscarriage than we saw that sign in the window of the home pregnancy test again. Another pregnancy! I told myself this time all would be well. But we learned near the end of the first trimester that the baby had died. The Lord’s kindness and that of our family and friends helped us through that difficult time. A few months passed and I was pregnant again--only to miscarry in week 12…again. We had experienced three miscarriages in the span of a year. We didn’t understand why this was happening, but we trusted God.
“Well, you tried, but it just wasn’t meant to be,” said a well-meaning relative. We had to admit that we wondered. Were we crazy? Were we too old? Many people in our lives encouraged us. My doctor said, “Don’t let anyone tell you that what you are wanting to do is unreasonable. It’s not unreasonable.” A friend told me of her close relationship with her much older brothers and how she had been born when her mom was 43 and her dad was 47, just our ages at the time. That meant a lot to us as we pondered our situation! Other friends encouraged us to be faithful with the three dear children we had, and if God had another child for us, then we would indeed have another child.
A year passed. We began to think this journey had been for some other purpose. Just then, we saw the plus sign in the window of a pregnancy test. I went for a walk that fall evening and thanked God for the opportunity to be pregnant … again.
This, our fourth pregnancy after our reversal, came when I was 44. Humanly speaking, a successful outcome seemed more unlikely than ever. We waited in suspense. My doctor watched over us. Dear friends prayed for us. The first ultrasound at six weeks showed the wondrous “blink blink” of a baby’s heartbeat. At 10 weeks, we got to see our baby on the ultrasound, little head and torso and limbs forming. And at 20 weeks, with our three older children in the room, the ultrasound technician typed onto the screen, “I’m a girl!” Our family rejoiced as our little girl hiccupped before our eyes!
At 35½ weeks gestation, Hattie was born: small, beautiful and perfectly healthy. My husband said, “She’s really special.” And she has been a special blessing everyday since, to my husband and me, to our three older children, to our extended family and to our church family. A friend summarized our baby story well, calling it “such a lovely testimony of God’s faithfulness and kindness.”
Maria Dean lives in Shawnee with her husband and four children.