I was searching for some blogs and I came across one that reminded me of how I felt many years ago when I found out I could not have children. 

I never dreamed of getting married like some girls do but I always dreamed of the day when I would have children of my own.  I spent much of my teen years taking care of some handicapped children and often got teased by my friends for spending so much time with them but it did not matter.  They were children, or child like beings in adult bodies at times but I loved them.

I got married and had great dreams of the children that would be a part of my life.

I was estatic when I found out I was pregnant, after several miscarriages.  I walked about the house, patting my belly and calling the baby, Jason. Yes, I just knew it was going to be a boy and that would be his name.  My world came crashing down one day when I was rushed to the hospital and had and ectopic pregnancy that nearly killed me.

I was devastated when they told me I would never had the children I wanted so badly.  My doctor put me in the maternity ward after the surgery. I asked him why he put me around all those women having babies.  He just looked at me and said, 'You have to get used to living in a world filled with babies and pregnant babies.'  I knew he was right but it still ripped my heart out each time I saw the new mothers laughing and hugging their babies.

Suddenly, I was in an 'us vs. them' world.  Or me, vs the other women in the world who were all normal and fertile.  My jealousy towards them was horrible.
I did not want to be around them or hear about their kids.  I hated myself because i was not one of them and they made me feel less of a woman.  When my sister in law's became pregnant, I put a wall up between us.  At family reunions or holiday dinners, I would sit with the men and talk and stay away from the mothers and the babies.  I felt they were better then me.  They could do something so simple like have a baby and I could not.

I drifted off into my own little world and stayed there.  I wondered why God hated me.  Why did he think I was such a bad person that I would not be a good mother to a child?  I spent many nights crying and asking that question. 

I could not go to baby showers or any of the functions that have to do with baby's without crying.  The few I did go to were ones that I really could not get out of going to.

One I found a card in the mail from my dearest sister in law in Ohio.  It was a card with a picture of Christ on the outside.  I opened it and all it said was 'He understands'.  Below she had written Issiah 54:1

Isa 54:1-3 "Sing, O barren, you who have not borne! Break forth into singing, and cry aloud, you who have not labored with child! For more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married woman," says the Lord. "Enlarge the place of your tent, and let them stretch out the curtains of your dwellings; do not spare; lengthen your cords, and strengthen your stakes. For you shall expand to the right and to the left, and your descendants will inherit the nations, and make the desolate cities inhabited.
I know it was not really meant for me but it saw it as something  God wanted me to read. I read it over several times.  I thought of opening my tent and allowing children into my home and heart that day.  It did not take much convincing to get my husband to agree to adopting a child.  He had been thinking of it for some time.

I look at my family with my two girls and I realize that God was in control the whole time.  He knew they were going to need parents and my husband would be the parents for them. I I had had children of my own, I may never have adopted and I would not have the grand baby that is playing on my living room floor right now.

I thank God every day for them.