7. When God says "no" or "not yet"
A look at our journey through secondary infertility
This is my first pass at a more thorough retelling of our journey through secondary infertility. I wasn’t sure I would ever write about this (and it won’t offend me if you skip this week’s post altogether). But along the way, friends have encouraged me to tell our story because they know so many others who are walking this same road. So, here we are. I hope it will serve as an encouragement, a validation of your own experiences and emotions, and an offering of hope when it feels like God is saying “no” or “not yet.” And for those who have already heard this story and lived through it with us, I apologize for the repetitiveness, and I also thank you again for walking with us - and sometimes carrying us - through this journey.
“But God doesn’t keep His promises!”
Her tiny voice shook with a frustration that seemed right on the verge of giving way to tears.
Car rides seem to be one of the most productive times for deep conversations with my daughter.
On our way to church one night, we were talking about how difficult it is to be obedient when we feel tired. I was trying to encourage her with the reminder that God is always near and we can always ask Him for help.
So you can imagine my surprise at her irritated response.
Surely, she knows that isn’t true.
I probed a little more.
Mom: “What makes you think God doesn’t keep His promises?”
Quinn: “Because yesterday, I prayed that God would let me lose my tooth and I didn’t!”
Ahhh. The theology of a six-year-old.
Thankfully, I was sitting in the front seat where she couldn’t see the smile spread across my face as I held in laughter at her annoyances with that dang tooth and God’s unwillingness to let it fall out. So many of her friends at school have already lost their first tooth. I could tell she was feeling left out.
Even for a kindergartener, a “no” (or “not yet”) from God is frustrating.
I carefully attempted to describe the difference between our requests and God’s promises and how one does not necessarily equal the other.
There’s something about explaining who God is to a child that helps you understand it a bit more yourself. You cannot hide behind fancy words and Christian language. Everything must be simplified down to the purest form.
It was Einstein who said, “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.” And I think he would know a thing or two about needing to simplify complicated matters.
“God always hears our prayers, Quinn. And sometimes, when it feels like He’s not listening, what He’s actually telling us is “no” or “not yet.” And do you know what happens when a tooth comes out before it’s ready to? It hurts! You don’t want that tooth coming out one moment too soon!”
And as I spoke these words to her, I could see God weaving together the truth buried in this conversation:
God’s “no” or “not yet” is often for our protection, always for our good, and never without purpose.
Almost exactly two years ago, I went through an eight-hour surgery to attempt to treat what may be causing our secondary infertility.
After an ectopic pregnancy and miscarriage in 2021, we had been on a difficult journey of what felt like a lot of “no” and “not yet” answers to our prayers for another baby.
As we searched and prayed for solutions, we had failed IUIs, frustrating doctor appointments, bloodwork, news of low egg counts, hormone shots, and more tests.
After the second failed IUI, my sister-in-law mentioned a doctor that she had heard great things about here in Houston. The only problem was that it would take six months to see him. I decided to make an appointment as “a backup plan.”
After our final failed IUI, I was disappointed with our current doctor’s lack of effort to discover what was wrong with my body. I felt like a customer rather than a patient, being bumped up to the next “package” (IVF) that would cover more serious issues (and cost a whole lot more). My husband and I had already decided we didn’t want to pursue IVF for multiple reasons. So, I kindly nodded along at their recommendations (because I’m a people-pleaser and don’t want anyone to feel rejected) and then walked out of that doctor’s office for the last time.
Through tearful prayers, my complaints began to echo those of our daughter and her tooth tantrum. It doesn’t feel great when God doesn’t answer our prayers on our timeline.
At this point, I was craving one thing: rest.
My “backup plan” appointment was scheduled for August 2022. So, as my daughter and I packed up for our annual California summer trip, I did my best to give my body and my mind a break.
When we arrived at my parents’ house, there was a book sitting on their dining room table, Finding God in Pain & Loss, written by a pastor who had a significant impact on my early faith years and who had suddenly passed away the previous spring. I devoured the book, the words feeling like they were written just for me to heal the parts of my heart I didn’t even know were broken. Even after his passing, God was using Brent to minister to me.
Over the next few weeks, my beautiful sister got married, my husband and I traveled to Kauai, and our daughter soaked up every glorious moment of her California summer.
I could feel the Lord slowly but surely restoring me, preparing me for the next step of our journey.
On August 22, 2022, I had my first appointment with our new doctor. It was the first time we met a doctor who listened and wanted to help us find the root cause of our secondary infertility. As he began asking which symptoms I experience each month, I checked all of them but one.
He looked me in the eyes and said something I’ll never forget: “Casey, this may feel common, but it is not normal.”
Contrary to what we have all probably heard at some point or another, just because something is common does not make it normal.
From there, the next few months were filled with learning how to accurately track my symptoms and cycles, conducting a full hormone panel, closely monitoring my thyroid (because of my Hashimoto’s that was discovered after my first pregnancy), and planning for an exploratory laparoscopic surgery in November.
By the time we got to the surgery, we already knew something was wrong. My hormones were completely off.
We were told that they can sometimes treat what they see within the 45-minute surgery, using a laser to clear up any endometriosis or blockage.
Unfortunately, when I woke up from my first surgery, they told me that was not possible in my case. They found extensive issues, including stage 4 endometriosis, fibroids, and two cysts that were fusing my ovaries to my uterus (I’ll spare you the photos). Another much more intensive surgery would be needed.
Although it felt daunting to have another surgery on the calendar, I was relieved to finally have some answers.
My next surgery was scheduled for February 2023.
Until then, I continued working with a certified Nutrition Consultant who specializes in prenatal nutrition (she’s amazing) and tracked my cycles and symptoms.
That Christmas season felt strange as we sat in limbo between answers and solutions. God gave me grace through every pregnancy announcement and new baby photo. Yet, like my daughter, I was also feeling left out as our daughter grew another year older and the age gap of a sibling (Lord-willing) grew wider.
But one day, I was opening Christmas cards and read one from a sweet friend with words that (again) felt written just for me:
“Take heart. Nothing that comes to you hasn’t already touched Jesus first. Go to Him. He is your peace.”
Maybe those words are written for you today too.
On February 9, 2023, I had an all-day surgery to remove and treat everything they had found in the previous surgery. The damage was pervasive enough that they had to reconstruct the back of my uterus, remove my appendix, and place a gore-tex covering over my uterus and ovaries to prevent the cysts from growing back.
Ten days later, I underwent my last surgery to remove the gore-tex covering. With the doctor’s instructions to let my body rest for the next three to six months, the process of recovery could finally begin.
So that’s what we did. We rested and prayed that God would use the surgery to make it possible for me to carry another baby.
That August, I was in the car again with my daughter. This time, my husband was with us and we were quietly talking while my daughter sang to herself in the backseat. I whispered to my husband that I really felt okay if our family never grew beyond the three of us. I had recently experienced an overwhelming peace about it, taking it as a sign that God was settling my heart into His “no.”
Suddenly, Quinn shouted out, “Mom, I want a sibling!”
I felt so confused about this timely and seemingly random interruption from the back seat. I held her outburst lightly, empathizing with her frustration over God’s continual no’s and not yet’s.
Except that wasn’t God’s answer this time.
On September 17, 2023, six months after the surgery and two weeks after Quinn’s sudden plead for a sibling, I received my first positive pregnancy test in nearly two and a half years.
Nearly eight months later on May 1, 2024, we welcomed our baby boy into the world and our family. All of the pain and waiting amplified our gratitude beyond measure.
I wish I could look back now and tell you with 100% certainty why God allowed this all to happen or why our years of “no” and “not yet” answers finally ended with a “yes.”
I wish I could prescribe how to ensure your desired result for whatever your deepest and most desperate requests may be right now.
I don’t have any of those answers. And if I pretended I did, it would fall tragically short because God’s picture (and plan) will always be so much bigger than the one we can see.
In the midst of our heartache and waiting, I remember feeling frustrated when people told us that God’s plan and timing were perfect and to just trust it. For a long time, the sentiment felt hollow, even though I knew it was coming from a place of love.
But one day, that changed. I don’t know why it changed. I can’t point to a certain practice or shift in my actions, which really only tells me that it was God at work in my heart.
Instead of feeling frustration at the idea of God’s perfect plan and timing, I felt relief.
Finally, God’s sovereignty felt like good news to me instead of a divine scavenger hunt that left me scrambling to figure out how to discern God’s will and plan. I felt freed to lay the burden of (perceived) control and let Him take the lead.
And without God’s perfect plan and perfect timing, we wouldn’t have our son - the exact person, the exact DNA, the exact personality that God wove together at the exact time He intended for him to be on this earth.
I wish I could have known back then whether God was answering with a “no” or a “not yet.” And I wish I could know that now for you.
What I do know at the end of it all are these words from Paul David Tripp:
“Your story is a biography of wisdom and grace written by another.”
I’m thankful for the wisdom, but I’m even more grateful for the grace. I hope you can rest in the Author who writes your story with both.
If you made it this far, you’re a champ. Shockingly, this doesn’t even begin to cover all of the details and I’m sure that was already too much for most of you. But if you are wondering more about our story or just need someone to talk to in your waiting journey, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’ve already had the privilege of talking to many people who share this experience, and I believe God’s comfort is meant to be shared (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
Until next week.
Your friend,
Casey
Beautiful words friend ❤️
🤍