Olivia Kate Harper will be a miracle.
All babies are miracles. But let me tell you about our miracle.
I married John after dating him for almost 7 years. We began dating when I was 15 and he was 16, and we never broke up. This alone is a miracle, but that's a (wonderful) story for another time! We came from incredible families with parents who raised us to love Jesus, so we always knew from the beginning of our relationship that we would wait to have sex until we were married.
We were tempted plenty of times in our 7 years and had ample opportunity to be intimate in that way, but God helped us wait. We knew it would be worth it.
I don't have words to describe the joy and expectation we felt on June 6, 2009 when we finally entered a hotel room together for the first time as husband and wife. I will never forget how special I felt and the excitement I had about finally being able to give all of myself to my best friend and experience all of him in the purest and holiest of places - the marriage bed.
Our friends had warned us that our first encounters might be awkward and a bit less glamorous than the Hollywood portrayals of intimacy. That being said, we were disappointed but not shocked when our first attempts at intercourse were not "successful" - we attributed this to being "dumb virgins" and decided not to stress over it that first night - we had our entire lives to enjoy one another! Well, to be honest, I still cried and felt bad about it, but of course my ever-so-patient husband was reassuring that we would figure it out over the honeymoon. We still were able to enjoy each other in new ways we had not prior to being married.
Remaining hopeful, we boarded a plane to St. Lucia the next morning and spent an incredible week there relaxing and relishing in our new relationship. Unfortunately though, we came back still unable to achieve intercourse. I called my OB-GYN the first day we were home and scheduled an appointment just to see what was up and ask some questions.
The next vivid memory I have from this journey is walking to my car from Dr. Leader's office calling John on my cell phone, crying and sharing my diagnoses of vaginismus and vulvoydenia. Dr. Leader prescribed me a topical numbing gel and predicted we'd be having sex by October, three months from then. This diagnosis felt devastating. Three more months seemed like an eternity after looking forward to the gift of sexual intimacy for 7 years, but what could I do?
John was more than patient as I dutifully applied the gel each day and we waited, tried, and waited some more. In October, I was back in Dr. Leader's office and sent home with an oral medication that were supposed to relax my pelvic floor muscles. She told me to try that and come back in three more months.
Life continued this way for quite a while - about a year and a half - as we experimented with three topical gels and two oral medications. Meanwhile, my parents were the only people we shared out secret with. Since we were 22 and 23, we were some of the first in our group of friends to be married, so we endured all of their jokes about getting pregnant and their snickers about us being married now, all the while feeling pained inside.
At home, a deep sense of shame was settling inside of me. I wanted to be able to share myself with my husband. He had waited 7 years for me and I for him, but I couldn't do the one thing he really craved as a man. I felt damaged and like a disappointment, though he never made me feel that way. I felt like less of a woman. Thankfully, we still had new experiences together and had waited to experience much intimacy at all, which was a saving grace, but I felt so utterly helpless because of this inability.
After more failed medicines, gels and suggestions, Dr. Leader suggested I go to a physical therapist who specialized in pelvic floor muscles. Eager to try anything but simultaneously reluctant and embarrassed about the situation, I made an appointment. I'm so glad that I did. Though our initial sessions were awkward, I eventually looked forward to my weekly time with my therapist. She was young and relatable, and she would tell me anonymous stories about other clients she had seen who had my exact conditions. It was therapeutic for me to know that I wasn't the only woman in the world who struggled with this. She gave me exercises to do at home to strengthen my core and develop more control of my pelvic floor muscles, and I did them religiously, eager to try anything that might help my body.
I felt so alone. John felt so alone. He tried to be supportive, but with each failed attempt at a solution, his hope of my healing dwindled. He began to get frustrated about the amount of money we were throwing at treatments, and the time and energy it took for me to go to weekly appointments, do exercises, and keep a controlled front to the rest of the world. Stress was building. Fights began. More shame was experienced by both of us. More feelings of isolation developed.
We sought counseling and were directed to a sexual therapist, who recommended some wacky things that did not align with our beliefs. It felt like we were wasting time and getting nowhere. I continued my weekly therapy sessions and enjoyed that outlet. I was also seeing progress, though it was gradual and required patience and effort. I remained hopeful that eventually things would work out, but John grew more bitter and frustrated. I totally understood how he felt, but I still clung to hope and did not want to give up.
John could have left me. An ordinary man might have. Neither of us ever dreamed that being physically unable to consummate our marriage would ever be in the cards for us. This was changing the dreams we had about our lives and our future family. Uncertainty, secrecy, bitterness and feelings of inadequacy and shame chased us both.
After 9 months of weekly physical therapy sessions, my therapist said I'd exhausted all of the exercises she could offer. We'd seen progress for sure, but intercourse was still not possible. She suggested I stop my weekly appointments but continue working on exercises at home. I did that, and made another appointment to check in with Dr. Leader, hopeful for another option.
Dr. Leader said we'd exhausted all possibilities except a surgical procedure. The procedure was somewhat risky, and it had solved the issue for 70% of the women who had it performed. John and I decided to take two weeks after she'd presented this option at my appointment in September 2011 to pray about it. 70%. I thought about that number and the accompanying 30% unsuccessful ones. Was it worth the risks associated, knowing it could be yet another letdown - another emotional drain, not to mention more time and financial resources spent?
We decided to reach out to a few friends and ask for prayer. This was a big step for us. Up until this point, my parents, my boss and one other couple knew. We shared with a group of friends one night and found that experience so freeing. They embraced us and committed to pray with us. The walls and facades we'd constructed over the past two years began to come down and we were authentic with those closest to us for the first time in a very long time. It felt good.
During the two weeks we'd sat aside to pray about the surgery option, it happened. After two years and three months, we consummated our marriage. During the very two weeks in September 2011 that we'd designated to pray and wait, we got exactly what we were asking and hoping for. It wasn't perfect, but it got better and my body progressed each time. I love how this followed our decision to share and open up with a few people.
Since then, we have shared our story with more friends and found freedom and peace each time we've been transparent. My hope in sharing it in such a public forum here is that others will be encouraged. I can't even begin to tell you all of the lessons I've learned through this journey. I don't think I have even realized or unpacked them all yet.
To name just a few that I have realized: As the Advent devotional I'm currently reading states, there IS purpose in waiting. God works while we wait. You can endure way more than you think you can. Unconditional love exists. There is freedom and power in transparency. There's power in asking for prayer. Prayer changes things. God's timing is perfect. Nothing is impossible for Him. He loves to come through at the "last moment" and be our hero. You never know what people are walking through. No life is perfect. No marriage is perfect.
We spent the next year enjoying one another and God and being thankful for His healing, provision, and tender care for us during such a fragile time. Fast forward to spring of 2013. The most surprising and wonderful and unexpected thing occurred: pregnancy. I spent two painful and lonely years wondering if I would ever be able to say the words "I'm pregnant." I wondered if having children was a part of God's story for my life. Then, at a time that was so unexpected yet is proving to be so perfect, it happened.
God is the Ephesians 3:20 God of immeasurably more. Not only did He allow me at age 15 to find the man who would later become my husband, but he allowed me to spend 7 years dating him and dreaming of marrying him while he patiently waited for me. THEN he gave us the strength to endure two more years of waiting. Then healing and a season of rejoicing. And now this. Our story is far from over, but His faithfulness is woven all through it.
Olivia Kate Harper will be a miracle baby.
All babies are miracles. But let me tell you about our miracle.
I married John after dating him for almost 7 years. We began dating when I was 15 and he was 16, and we never broke up. This alone is a miracle, but that's a (wonderful) story for another time! We came from incredible families with parents who raised us to love Jesus, so we always knew from the beginning of our relationship that we would wait to have sex until we were married.
We were tempted plenty of times in our 7 years and had ample opportunity to be intimate in that way, but God helped us wait. We knew it would be worth it.
I don't have words to describe the joy and expectation we felt on June 6, 2009 when we finally entered a hotel room together for the first time as husband and wife. I will never forget how special I felt and the excitement I had about finally being able to give all of myself to my best friend and experience all of him in the purest and holiest of places - the marriage bed.
Our friends had warned us that our first encounters might be awkward and a bit less glamorous than the Hollywood portrayals of intimacy. That being said, we were disappointed but not shocked when our first attempts at intercourse were not "successful" - we attributed this to being "dumb virgins" and decided not to stress over it that first night - we had our entire lives to enjoy one another! Well, to be honest, I still cried and felt bad about it, but of course my ever-so-patient husband was reassuring that we would figure it out over the honeymoon. We still were able to enjoy each other in new ways we had not prior to being married.
Remaining hopeful, we boarded a plane to St. Lucia the next morning and spent an incredible week there relaxing and relishing in our new relationship. Unfortunately though, we came back still unable to achieve intercourse. I called my OB-GYN the first day we were home and scheduled an appointment just to see what was up and ask some questions.
The next vivid memory I have from this journey is walking to my car from Dr. Leader's office calling John on my cell phone, crying and sharing my diagnoses of vaginismus and vulvoydenia. Dr. Leader prescribed me a topical numbing gel and predicted we'd be having sex by October, three months from then. This diagnosis felt devastating. Three more months seemed like an eternity after looking forward to the gift of sexual intimacy for 7 years, but what could I do?
John was more than patient as I dutifully applied the gel each day and we waited, tried, and waited some more. In October, I was back in Dr. Leader's office and sent home with an oral medication that were supposed to relax my pelvic floor muscles. She told me to try that and come back in three more months.
Life continued this way for quite a while - about a year and a half - as we experimented with three topical gels and two oral medications. Meanwhile, my parents were the only people we shared out secret with. Since we were 22 and 23, we were some of the first in our group of friends to be married, so we endured all of their jokes about getting pregnant and their snickers about us being married now, all the while feeling pained inside.
At home, a deep sense of shame was settling inside of me. I wanted to be able to share myself with my husband. He had waited 7 years for me and I for him, but I couldn't do the one thing he really craved as a man. I felt damaged and like a disappointment, though he never made me feel that way. I felt like less of a woman. Thankfully, we still had new experiences together and had waited to experience much intimacy at all, which was a saving grace, but I felt so utterly helpless because of this inability.
After more failed medicines, gels and suggestions, Dr. Leader suggested I go to a physical therapist who specialized in pelvic floor muscles. Eager to try anything but simultaneously reluctant and embarrassed about the situation, I made an appointment. I'm so glad that I did. Though our initial sessions were awkward, I eventually looked forward to my weekly time with my therapist. She was young and relatable, and she would tell me anonymous stories about other clients she had seen who had my exact conditions. It was therapeutic for me to know that I wasn't the only woman in the world who struggled with this. She gave me exercises to do at home to strengthen my core and develop more control of my pelvic floor muscles, and I did them religiously, eager to try anything that might help my body.
I felt so alone. John felt so alone. He tried to be supportive, but with each failed attempt at a solution, his hope of my healing dwindled. He began to get frustrated about the amount of money we were throwing at treatments, and the time and energy it took for me to go to weekly appointments, do exercises, and keep a controlled front to the rest of the world. Stress was building. Fights began. More shame was experienced by both of us. More feelings of isolation developed.
We sought counseling and were directed to a sexual therapist, who recommended some wacky things that did not align with our beliefs. It felt like we were wasting time and getting nowhere. I continued my weekly therapy sessions and enjoyed that outlet. I was also seeing progress, though it was gradual and required patience and effort. I remained hopeful that eventually things would work out, but John grew more bitter and frustrated. I totally understood how he felt, but I still clung to hope and did not want to give up.
John could have left me. An ordinary man might have. Neither of us ever dreamed that being physically unable to consummate our marriage would ever be in the cards for us. This was changing the dreams we had about our lives and our future family. Uncertainty, secrecy, bitterness and feelings of inadequacy and shame chased us both.
After 9 months of weekly physical therapy sessions, my therapist said I'd exhausted all of the exercises she could offer. We'd seen progress for sure, but intercourse was still not possible. She suggested I stop my weekly appointments but continue working on exercises at home. I did that, and made another appointment to check in with Dr. Leader, hopeful for another option.
Dr. Leader said we'd exhausted all possibilities except a surgical procedure. The procedure was somewhat risky, and it had solved the issue for 70% of the women who had it performed. John and I decided to take two weeks after she'd presented this option at my appointment in September 2011 to pray about it. 70%. I thought about that number and the accompanying 30% unsuccessful ones. Was it worth the risks associated, knowing it could be yet another letdown - another emotional drain, not to mention more time and financial resources spent?
We decided to reach out to a few friends and ask for prayer. This was a big step for us. Up until this point, my parents, my boss and one other couple knew. We shared with a group of friends one night and found that experience so freeing. They embraced us and committed to pray with us. The walls and facades we'd constructed over the past two years began to come down and we were authentic with those closest to us for the first time in a very long time. It felt good.
During the two weeks we'd sat aside to pray about the surgery option, it happened. After two years and three months, we consummated our marriage. During the very two weeks in September 2011 that we'd designated to pray and wait, we got exactly what we were asking and hoping for. It wasn't perfect, but it got better and my body progressed each time. I love how this followed our decision to share and open up with a few people.
Since then, we have shared our story with more friends and found freedom and peace each time we've been transparent. My hope in sharing it in such a public forum here is that others will be encouraged. I can't even begin to tell you all of the lessons I've learned through this journey. I don't think I have even realized or unpacked them all yet.
To name just a few that I have realized: As the Advent devotional I'm currently reading states, there IS purpose in waiting. God works while we wait. You can endure way more than you think you can. Unconditional love exists. There is freedom and power in transparency. There's power in asking for prayer. Prayer changes things. God's timing is perfect. Nothing is impossible for Him. He loves to come through at the "last moment" and be our hero. You never know what people are walking through. No life is perfect. No marriage is perfect.
We spent the next year enjoying one another and God and being thankful for His healing, provision, and tender care for us during such a fragile time. Fast forward to spring of 2013. The most surprising and wonderful and unexpected thing occurred: pregnancy. I spent two painful and lonely years wondering if I would ever be able to say the words "I'm pregnant." I wondered if having children was a part of God's story for my life. Then, at a time that was so unexpected yet is proving to be so perfect, it happened.
God is the Ephesians 3:20 God of immeasurably more. Not only did He allow me at age 15 to find the man who would later become my husband, but he allowed me to spend 7 years dating him and dreaming of marrying him while he patiently waited for me. THEN he gave us the strength to endure two more years of waiting. Then healing and a season of rejoicing. And now this. Our story is far from over, but His faithfulness is woven all through it.
Olivia Kate Harper will be a miracle baby.
Praise Jesus! He is so amazing! Love reveling in His faithfulness in your life, even in hidden ways. Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteWow!! Your transparency is astounding in that its sheer power will speak to so many! In many ways, John is like Joseph in his steadfastness and commitment to you and God. You're like Mary, following Him despite an exceptionally difficult situation. Much love to you both!!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing your story, Leigh! This is so beautiful and helpful for so many. Your transparency is not taken lightly.. it is a gift. Praise the Lord for His goodness and His faithfulness! (And for the gift of Olivia!)
ReplyDelete