Messy Marriage Team Writer

I wanted six to twelve kids when I was little.

At fourteen, I was told that I would never have children because of a birth defect. Hard blow to deal with, but by eighteen, I was okay with it. At twenty, I met future husband, Scott, and I felt the hurt a little again.

But Scott didn’t care that I couldn’t have kids. He just wanted me. Cool! We went on with life getting married and living our lives. We were content.

One day Scott came to me and asked if I would be willing to see if we could get pregnant. I agreed to try, but was not going to hold my breath. When we did get pregnant, I told Scott I wanted three kids.

Both of my pregnancies were successful but were also very, very medically dangerous and troublesome for me and for the baby. But to me it was all worth it—all the pain and discomfort. All the medicines and tests were easy to handle, because I was going to have my baby. My little Scott.

When I was ready to go for pregnancy number three, Scott said “NO!” He actually said he wanted to get a vasectomy, so there would be no chance of a pregnancy. I was shocked and hurt. I tried for several days to dissuade him, but he would not relent.

I was of two minds during this time.

As Scott’s wife, I was angry and hurt that he would not let me have “my third child.” As his best friend, I supported him and made sure he did not feel alone. Unfortunately, the anger and hurt took over. I couldn’t even look at Scott, because I was so angry and disgusted at what he had forced on me.

One day my sister-in-law had enough of the family haranguing me—telling me that I did not appreciate my two children or husband enough. She told the family to leave me alone, because I was mourning the loss of a dream, the loss of a child.

That clicked!

Scott decided to be gentler and accept that it would take time for me to come to terms. He knew he needed to be my safe place to mourn.

Just recently, I realized I was afraid to verbalize to Scott that he was probably right about his decision. I was afraid he would be mean somehow about it. I decided to admit to him that the first two pregnancies were very hard and looking at it from his perspective, he was right to decide that we should not have any more biological children.

What really helped was that I felt Scott truly saw and felt how his “big mean vasectomy” hurt me. He wasn’t “in mourning” like me, but he was sympathetic to my feelings.

We all want to know that we are understood and truly “experienced” by our spouses.

In Galatians 6: 2, God reminds us to help each other carry our burdens. The problem is that only God can truly know our hearts and minds. Only God can heal the broken bits of our dreams and person. Thankfully, God understands me and heals me a little more everyday, because I release more and more of my world to him. Psalm 34: 18 says it beautifully,  

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Photo by sєαttlєчє’s (Flickr)