Heather Lee's Story ~ My worth and value is not in my circumstance

On October 26th we had the pleasure of listening to Heather share her story and God's plan for her life. It was filled with pain, tears, waiting, loss, unanswered questions, and  lies, but also faith, peace, love and grace. And it has just begun....

Hello, my name is Heather Lee and I go by a lot of names.  I am a wife – I’ve been married for 12 years, and a mom, I have two beautiful kids.  I have the privilege of being on staff here at Crossroads and I serve in a few ministries, where I go by different titles.  But the most special names that I get called are “babe” by my husband and “mom, mommy, or MOM!” by my kids.  I know many of you can relate. 

I have a large family, where I’m daughter, sister, aunt, etc.  I’m I grew up in a loving home; I have two sisters and parents who really worked hard to provide and care for us.  We were a typical middle class “Christian” family.  By “Christian” I mean we went to church mostly when I was little.  I looked forward to Sundays because I got to wear my fancy clothes, sing songs about Jesus and take naps in the church pews.  We went to church on and off throughout my childhood.  I heard often that I was a child of God, but it wasn’t until much later that I really understood what that meant.   

As a little girl, there were a lot of things that I dreamed about being and accomplishing when I grew up; but the single most desire I had was to be a mom.  Really, unlike other kids who aimed to be doctors or astronauts, I would excitingly answer “I want to be a mom” and subsequently list any other careers I had in mind at the time.  I’m sure as women and moms, you can relate.  I think the desire to be a mom has something to do with how God wired women to be the child bearers. 

Nurturing and mothering came naturally to me.  My sisters and I were the older cousins in our family so I often acted like I was the babysitter or mom most of the time.  Growing up in a small town, as a teenager there was hardly a weekend when I wasn’t babysitting.  I knew at a young age that I was called to ministry, but being a wife and mom was always a part of that plan. 

October is national pregnancy and infant loss awareness month.  That may mean something completely different for every single one of us in this room.  I read an article that said “parents never ‘get over’ the loss of a child – no matter the age.”  Parents who know loss can experience PTSD, depression and anxiety that can result in many more difficulties in life.  Studies show that now 1 in 4 pregnancies end in the loss of a baby; either through miscarriage, still birth or infant loss.  So statistically, at least a dozen of us in this room know that pain. 

I’m not here today to weigh which type of loss is more painful.  As women we are so quick to compare each other aren’t we?  If we’re really honest.  We compare our clothes, our looks, our family, our accomplishments and our pain.  I can imagine that losing a baby that you have birthed is different than losing a baby that you haven’t gotten to hold yet, but pain is pain.  There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that both are hard, both hurt.  As women, we need to come along side each other and not argue about which is more painful but comfort each other through the pain.  Maybe you’ve never experienced losing a baby, maybe you’ve just been waiting a really long time to get pregnant, but odds are if you haven’t been through this pain then you know someone who has.

Whether that pain was a part of your life years ago or maybe you’re right in the middle of it, know that you’re not alone and there is hope.  I still don’t completely understand God’s plan, but I’m honored to share a bit of my story with you today.  My plan never involved infertility, let alone losing a baby.  But God’s plan, well that was different.  His plan was to use my pain.   

So I met my husband early in college, actually it was orientation weekend; I was a new freshman and he was a transfer student.  College was some of the most faith-forming years for me.  I learned more about who I was, and how God called me His daughter.  This was more than just believing I was His child, like I heard so much about as a little girl.  It was opening His word and reading that He knew every hair on my head, He knew me in my mother’s womb.  And that the God who created the universe, cared about me – He had a plan for my life. 

Seth and I dated for just a few years and were married in 2004.  I loved my new name as “wife”.  I embraced it willingly and proudly.  Being a wife was great, but I still deeply desired to be a mom – there was something more missing. 

Although he wasn’t too sure, I was ready for babies right away.  We were young and both our parents had kids young, so I wanted to do the same.  We began trying to get pregnant at our one year anniversary; I know we didn’t wait too long.  J

It didn’t happen right away; we naively thought we’d get pregnant the minute I wasn’t on the pill.  We waited and waited.  Eventually we went through testing and doctor visits and more waiting.  I was heartbroken.  There was no great explanation, just to keep trying.  There were options for medical help, but we had a limited income and really I didn’t want to go through fertility.  I trusted that God had a plan, I told myself “In His time” and that just being “wife” was enough while we waited.  We waited for weeks.  Weeks turned to months and months turned to years. 

Meanwhile, we just continued to do life, we both worked and loved on our nieces and nephews that just kept coming.  While it seemed like everyone around me was having babies, I felt like an outcast.  Naturally we live in a society where the minute you walk down the aisle and put that ring on your finger, everyone and their momma has permission to pester you about babies.  I get it, we sing it in elementary school, first comes love and then comes marriage and then comes…. yep got it.  But I didn’t have it.  I didn’t have the baby in the baby carriage. 

During those years I listened to so many lies from others, from myself, but specifically from the enemy.  In fact, having two Heathers in the family meant I was known for years as the “Heather that wasn’t a mom”.  And for a woman who desperately desired to be mom since a child, it was more pain hurdled on top of pain.  I began to attach my value and worth to my circumstance.  Sure I could be the best darn wife, but it didn’t matter, I still wasn’t enough.  I wasn’t a mom.  That’s when I let lies label me; I began to believe the wrong names in my life and I let them define me, I was… infertile, childless, unworthy, not enough.

With every missed period and negative pregnancy test it was worse.  Tears upon tears.  I cried every time I got another birth announcement.  I skipped baby showers, sorry if they were yours.  When people found out we were trying, they would just give me pitiful looks and fluffy words.  Ugh, I loathed their pity.  So we didn’t tell many people.  We secretly mourned.  Moms who’ve never experienced loss or waiting, hear me when I say I wasn’t being selfish.  I purposely had to set boundaries so my pain and bitterness wouldn’t leak out, and rob any expectant mom’s joy. 

On the flip side, women in pain have no right to purposefully be mean or spew onto other women.  Every one of us deals with life and pain differently; we can love each other enough to value each other regardless of our circumstances.

Eventually we were ready to try fertility treatments, but I was scared.  With much reservation I began seeing a specialist.  Not long after, we got pregnant, HUGE surprise.  In fact we didn’t even expect it.  The excitement of baby clothes shopping and name picking was short lived, about 10 weeks into my pregnancy we lost the baby.  Following the loss I had two painful procedures and more testing.  I was broken.  I was embarrassed.  Those names were true.   I wasn’t enough.  

I was hurt and so mad at God.  I didn’t understand.  How could something that I wanted so bad; something He created me, as a woman to do, wouldn’t work?  Why couldn’t my body work?  Why wasn’t He healing me?  Why would He put the deep desire to be a mom in my heart if He wasn’t ever going to answer it? 

I was done.  I quit.  No more needles, no more tests, no more trying.  Something I don’t tell a lot of people, because frankly everyone has advice or an opinion.  After our loss we didn’t pursue fertility again.  I’m not against it at all.  There are so many miracles that God has used with medicine, it’s amazing.  But for me, I was done.  I didn’t want to lose another baby.  Eventually I would come to realize that I was done trying.

It was so hard on our marriage. 

Through all the waiting I would ask my husband about adoption.  Actually as a young girl although I didn’t know anyone who was adopted, I really wanted to adopt.  I knew I wanted to birth a couple kids and then help orphans and adopt.  I remember talking about this with my husband before we got married, he didn’t seem open to adoption but said we’d see after we had our “own” kids.  I was mad at Him but I just kept telling myself, “it’s enough for now”.

It was enough until years later when I really wanted children, and it wasn’t happening.  Every time I would bring up adoption he was so closed off.  He thought it wouldn’t be the same, they weren’t his kids; he was afraid.  So we waited.  Months turned into years.  Six years into praying for children, I pressed again about adoption.  My husband told me, if I asked again it would be no forever. 

I was broken.  I was angry.  God why?  Why would you put such a desire in my heart if you’re not even going to answer?  Why couldn’t my husband and I be on the same page? 

Maybe you haven’t experienced this kind of loss but chances are you can relate to not being on the same page as your husband.  Maybe you want more kids but he doesn’t, or the other way around.  Respecting my husband and trusting in God during the waiting was so hard.  But there was nothing that I could say to change his mind, getting through that difficult time wasn’t going to words from my mouth to convince him it was going to be me on my knees. 

If marriage in 12 years has taught me anything it’s that we are two very selfish individuals trying to work together.  So I didn’t say a word, not a peep.  But I prayed.  I prayed in the beginning that God would change his heart, but then over time asked God to change mine if it was the one needing to change. 

So I committed to submitting, and that wasn’t being a doormat and shutting down.  It meant that I respecting him enough to drop it and commit to praying.  I had to trust that God knew what He was doing and I had to wait for Seth to be ready. 

Seven years I waited.  Seven years of waiting and trying and praying.  I didn’t understand.  There were years I spent angry, going through the motions in my faith.  I was angry and hurt and entitled, and all the while still believing those lies – the wrong names.  Those were times when I barely spoke to God. 

I can’t tell you how long it took, what it was or even when it was.  But God eventually took my pain and turned it into peace.  Over time He worked on my heart and showed me where I was wrong in labeling myself and all the lies I had believed.  Finding my worth and value in my circumstance.  But we do that, don’t we ladies?

Earlier I talked about during the hard years that I listened to so many lies and as a result became to give myself wrong names (broken, not enough, etc)…  I want to pause HERE and read you a story. 

Genesis 3 (give back-story first: God-creation-Adam and Eve-garden-tree of the knowledge of good and evil-serpent enters…)

READ: Genesis 3:1-5

One thing I know is that satan is the “father of lies.” (John 8:44) and since the beginning of time woman have struggled with believing his lies! 

Verse 1: “Did God really say”… the evil one will get us to doubt God and His word, to question Him.  Are you sure? 

Verse 2-3: she engages in conversation with him!  Instead of turning towards God she turns towards the lies!  That first step is the step to embracing them…

Verse 4-5: he tells her that she won’t die, he lies, he tells her that God is holding something back from her, something she wants and that God is being unfair. 

Lies.  Are you sure God’s word says that?  This is what the world says about you.  This is what you want.  This isn’t fair.  God doesn’t want you to have what you want.  He’s holding out on you…  Ladies!  For me these lies started since I was a child.  That little girl going to church learning about Jesus was the same little girl thinking I wasn’t pretty, thinking I wasn’t enough because little Katie in kindergarten called me fat and ugly.  And instead of looking at God’s word to see if that was truth, I just believed the lies. 

Earlier I talked about in the middle of infertility I believed a lot more lies… that I was… broken, unworthy, not enough, I was missing something.  In my anger I questioned God, I doubted Him, I thought He was being unfair. 

We do this as women, since the beginning of our creation we’ve done it.  We let satan, others and ourselves label us the wrong names.  And they’re just a bunch of lies.  I’ve got a pre-teen daughter who struggles with this daily.  I’m a grown woman who struggles with this daily.  As moms we do this. 

Like I said earlier, God eventually took my pain and turned it into peace.  It was a process, and it still is.  Over time He worked on my heart and showed me where I was wrong in labeling myself and all the lies I put on.  Along the way He’s showed me this truth.  The truth is He never moved away from me.  Even in the times when I wasn’t in His word or talking to Him, He didn’t leave me, He was right there.  When I was ready to turn to Him, He could handle the anger, He let me cry out to Him, He let me be mad.  He never left.

In time I realized that I

needed to not find my worth and value in my circumstance.  I needed to find it in Him.  I needed to look at the lies through His word to see the truth. 

In the waiting He was unfailing, in my anger and brokenness He was present, and in my doubt He was faithful.  I realized that I had labeled myself with names (lies) that He had never given me.  The more that I asked Him to reveal the lies I had believed the more He showed me the truth and what He had to say about me. 

That I was beautiful, whole, valuable, enough, cherished, worthy, loved; I could go on and on. 

I spent years focused on what I thought I was, rather than who’s I was.  He had a plan all along; I just couldn’t see it thru the lies.  I could only see the pain.

The great thing He never left me.  He didn’t leave Eve in the garden.  He didn’t leave her there to die.  He knew she messed up, He knew had fallen to the trap of the enemy, but He turned the mess into something beautiful.  He had a plan.   

I don’t know why the loss of a child is recognized as the most intense cause of grief.  But I do know that we have a God who’s been there.  We have a God who knows this grief and loss of a child; He gave His own son for the world.  We have a God who is near to the broken-hearted and hears our hearts cries. 

Pain is pain.  Whether it’s through loss or waiting, pain is pain.  No one person’s story is more important than another’s.  We should never compare each other’s stories.  God has a different plan for each of us. 

Today I am a mom.  He was faithful in fulfilling a deep desire in me; it just wasn’t how I planned it. 

Just over five years ago my husband was ready, I remember where we were and what we were doing when he leaned over to me and said “I’m ready, I’m ready to adopt”.  It was as if God Himself was smiling and saying, I heard you and I’ve got this.  See I had a plan, I was doing something.  Following joyful tears and a few months later we’d meet our children.  This December I’ll celebrate five years of being a mom to our now 12 year old daughter and 10 year old son; they were 5 & 7 when we adopted them out of foster care.   

Well while we were waiting my brother and sister in law were a year into their adoption process, they had met a little 10 yr old girl who they knew God brought to their family.  We just started our adoption certification classes and thought it’d be a few months before we found our kids… hoping for a baby or babies.  When we heard that their soon-to-be-daughter had two siblings in another home our search ended, we knew right away they were supposed to be ours.  We met our kids after expediting our paperwork and in just three weeks they were moving into our home!  They weren’t babies; they were 5 and 7; that was okay because they were supposed to be our kids.

Not how I planned, not who I planned, not when I planned, but how God planned. 

Adopting older children has been a whirlwind and such a roller coaster!  I was a “mom”, but ironically the name “mom” meant something different to my kids.  When they moved in at 5 and 7 we were their 17^th and 13^th placement, and each foster mom was “mom”.  The name “mom” meant so many things, and being that birth mom was their primary abuser it was hurtful to my kids.  When they first moved in it was just another title and attachment disorder is something else, but I had to earn “mommy”.  That’s when it was real.  God’s plan was to give chose me to restore that name for them.  He’s taught me that being a mom isn’t a right, it’s a privilege.  I won’t ever the name “mom” lightly or for granted again.

I’ll be honest, there are days when the pain of our loss and the waiting hurts.  Lies still try to creep in.  There are people who still say “oh but you could still get pregnant.”  We’re not trying but thanks.  Or people who ignorantly say “don’t you want your own kids?”.  I have my own kids.  And really I know deep down if my husband and I hadn’t experienced the loss and the pain, we would have never had the privilege of experiencing adoption, and the beautiful redemptive work that adoption is.  God has taught me more about His grace and love in becoming a mom through adoption than I ever thought possible.