Maternal Instincts?

Deep inside, I yearned to have another baby. But maybe God's answer was no

- By ANN ELIZABETH ROBERTSON Searcy, Arkansas

I sat in the back row at church, my eyes glued on the clean-cut young man and attractive woman standing up in front. A guest preacher and his wife, they had invited all the young couples in the congregation to come forward after the service for personal prayers.

“Honey,” my husband, Doug, whispered, tapping my knee. “Should we go up there too?”

I looked at the line of husbands and wives, hand in hand, forming a long procession from the front of the church all the way to where we sat. No doubt their needs were more pressing than our own. My life with Doug overflowed with blessings: 11 years of marriage and a beautiful, lively nine-year-old daughter, Ari. We belonged to a thriving church community. Doug and his brother had just started their own construction business, and I taught kindergarten at Ari's school, along with Sunday school and vacation Bible school. As a wife and mother, what more could I ask for?

Yet I was hoping for a miracle. Two years earlier, when I was 27, a cancer scare had turned my world upside down. Doctors discovered cysts and tumors in my uterus. I had a hysterectomy. I was grateful that the tumors turned out to be benign, but Doug and I would never have another baby. We'd always wanted a big family. That was no longer possible. We had Ari. We had each other. That was God's plan, and it would have to be enough.

But everywhere I looked, in every facet of my life, I was surrounded by children—from the ones I taught to my friends' children to my own daughter and her little play pals. Every time I received an invitation to a baby shower or had nursery duty at church, I balked. Deep inside, I yearned to have another baby. I felt cheated, unfulfilled—and then guilty for having those feelings. Who was I to question God's plan?