Share Your Story Saturday {Sheri’s Story}

My husband, Ron, and I have been married for 14 years. We first met in 2003, and we knew instantly that God had brought us together. We were married four months later. We had discussed children and always said it was in God’s hands if or when we had any. When Ron was 18 he had a brain tumor. He had surgery, chemo and radiation—and is completely healed. Because of the chemo and radiation, he was told that chances were pretty high that he wouldn’t be able to have children.

Fast forward eight years, and I wasn’t surprised that we hadn’t conceived yet. We just assumed it was because of the cancer.  My sweet husband knew it was a dream of mine to have a child of our own, so he offered to get some testing done. While we waited for the results to come back, I just knew the problem was on his end—never dreaming that my health would be the reason we had yet to conceive. Imagine my surprise when the results came back that he was healthy and able to father our child. I immediately scheduled testing for myself. That’s when I was first diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.

While it is not impossible to conceive with PCOS, it does make it more difficult. After further testing my doctor at the time told us there was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to have a child. I immediately started taking fertility medication. I was hopeful that I would finally have the child I longed for, and this is where the real struggle began.

The first month, I went to my scheduled appointment thinking that I would get what is known as a “trigger shot” and be well on my way to conceiving. Unfortunately, we found that I had one underdeveloped egg and several cysts. The doctor upped my medication dosage, and the next few months were more of the same. I was an emotional mess. Between the meds and the disappointment month after month I just couldn’t take any more. I would cry at the drop of a hat, and it was starting to put a slight strain on my marriage. I was putting my desire to conceive a child above everything else. I got down on my knees one night and cried out to God. God revealed something to me in that time of distress. I wasn’t just putting my wants and desires before my marriage, I was putting them before God. I had taken things out of God’s hands and was trying to do them on my own. Something I said I would never do. I stopped all treatment and put my life back in God’s hands where it belonged. If it was God’s will to give us a child, He would do so in His timing. I was finally at a place of contentment with my circumstances.

So, imagine my surprise two weeks before Christmas when I found out I was pregnant. I was overjoyed, and we quickly told all of our friends and family. This was my miracle baby, and God was finally blessing me with my heart’s desire!

I quickly made my first doctor appointment. I was so scared for that visit. I didn’t know for sure how far along I was because I was so irregular due to the PCOS. I was scared I had a false positive. So many things were running through my head, but there on the screen was my tiny baby. Our baby was measuring 5 weeks, and we scheduled another appointment for right after Christmas to make sure the baby was growing normally. At 7.5 weeks, I got to hear my sweet baby’s heartbeat. My doctor gave me a copy of the ultrasound that shows the heartbeat at the bottom. I didn’t know at the time how much I would cherish that photo.

Two weeks later my world came crashing down. I knew something was wrong the minute I started to cramp. I was upset and panicking. I told my husband something was wrong, but he thought I was over reacting. He called my mom; she came and stayed with us that night. The next day I started to spot. I called the doctor; they said it was normal and to come in for some tests. It didn’t feel normal, but what did I know? The nurse called later that day and said that I had a urinary tract infection and prescribed me medication. I was hoping that was all it was, but I had an overwhelming sense of dread. Why wasn’t the doctor more concerned? Why didn’t they do an ultrasound and check on my baby? These were the thoughts circling in my head.

By the next night, I was in so much pain I made my husband take me to the emergency room. The ultrasound tech came to get me, wheeled me into a very cold room, and proceeded to try to find my child’s heartbeat—one I had heard just two weeks before. The tech was stone-faced and wouldn’t tell me anything, but I knew. I heard the hollow sound every time she turned the doppler on. There was no heartbeat. I didn’t want to believe it though. That is when a very unsympathetic doctor told me what I already knew, my baby had no heartbeat. I was having a miscarriage. I was devastated and numb. That was the longest car ride home.

I chose to miscarry naturally instead of having a procedure known as a D&C. I think I was hoping everyone was wrong, and my baby was fine. The next three days were the worst of my life. I was in the most pain I have ever been in as my baby slowly slipped from me. I went through so many emotions. Having to tell everyone that I lost the baby was hard. I felt damaged and inadequate. Why was my body betraying me? Everyone’s well-wishing comments seemed to make it worse. I felt that unless you had lost a child, you couldn’t understand the depth of pain and sorrow that I was experiencing. I could have turned away from God. Why did He allow me to conceive this child if He wasn’t going to allow me to raise him or her? I went through all of those emotions, but I chose to cling to God and to my faith.

I would have liked to have known the gender of our child so I at least had that closure. Regardless, I chose to name the baby Hope. This child gave me hope that I could get pregnant, and hope that God does hear my prayers and knows what is best for me. It’s been five years since I lost my precious sweet pea, and I think it has taken me this long to finally come to a place of complete surrender to God’s will. I thought I had surrendered before, but I still carried around the weight of my sorrow. I know that God has a perfect plan and purpose for my life, and I went through all of this for a reason. My child is a blessing, and God has a purpose for my child too.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
Jeremiah 29:11

- Sheri

Hope Mom to Hope

I am a faithful servant of Jesus Christ living just north of Houston, TX. I have been happily married to my best friend for 14 years. I love reading, sewing, crafting, camping, and serving Jesus in the community!


We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. Every Saturday we feature a Hope Mom’s story in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.


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- Sheri

Hope Mom to Hope

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