My husband and I were Evangelical Protestants. We used contraception for the first years of our marriage. That was, we believed at the time, the most responsible thing to do. We were taught not to become pregnant until we were financially “ready,” and then it was probably most responsible to have only two children. More than that, and you would find it difficult to be a “good” parent. Having more than two children, we would also risk being “selfish.” I, however, was willing to take that risk. My dream was to have many children. My husband’s dream was to have two. That, he hoped, would be our family. That would be our responsible plan.

But then, that was not God’s ultimate plan for us. I look back on those days and think of myself as, hard as it is to say, arrogant — to believe that my plan, our plan, could be “better” than whatever God would have planned for us. But I really did not understand, nor had I ever heard, the Catholic teachings of God’s plans of procreation, of sexuality, and of the gift of children.

When we decided we were ‘ready” for children, we found we had infertility problems. After many months without contracepting, we were finally blessed with our first child, and then subsequently suffered our first miscarriage. More infertility, and finally we were blessed with a second child. After several years, I was able to convince my husband to try for just one more child. We had, however, years with more miscarriages.

After four miscarriages (the pregnancies were achieved through infertility treatments and medications), we were told by the doctor that I would never give birth to another child, and so we adopted. My husband was reluctant at best when we began the process, and only came around because he realized how desperately I wanted another child. The day our baby arrived, however, she became the light of my husband’s life, and that light has only become brighter with time. They adore each other, and God created this special relationship, just as he had created our first two children. At this point, my husband told me, no more adoptions. Our family was complete. While his decision saddened me, for the first few months of our new baby’s life, I was too distracted by the carpools, after school sports, diapers, and nap times to really absorb the finality of his decision to close our family at this point.

Then God opened it again. One day, when my husband was away on a business trip, I went to the drugstore to purchase something I never thought I would ever buy again — a home pregnancy test. Without any fertility treatments, my body was beginning to show all the signs of pregnancy. I felt numb — if this were true, it most likely meant I would have to live through the devastation of miscarriage again. How would I ever get through this yet another time, I wondered.

The test was positive, and I knew my husband wouldn’t believe me — he would think it was a practical joke. In fact, he did laugh when I told him, but soon the truth settled in on both of us that I was indeed pregnant, and we would, in all likelihood, have another miscarriage.

But God is so kind, so generous and merciful. And He allowed us to give birth to our last child. He was born strong and healthy, and he is truly our miracle baby.
I believe that the gift of this baby was, in part, God’s way of showing us that it is indeed He who is in control. His love for us is greater than we could ever imagine. And His plans for us are greater, as well.

After our last baby was born, we came to the Catholic Church, by the grace of God, and through the writings of Pope John Paul the Great. The Pope’s theology of the body explains the great love God has for us, and how He allows us to participate with Him in His creation. We learned that it is a great privilege to partner with God in the creation of His precious children. We are grateful for this gift, and we are grateful, as well, for His bringing us into the fullness of the faith, in His Holy Roman Catholic Church.

Submitted from Virginia

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