“I’m grieving the end of my fertile years – even though I already have four children”

I don’t know how it happened, but in the blink of an eye I’ve gone from entering church overly concerned about my own small children to doting lovingly over the little ones of the younger mums around me. Three times this past Sunday I heard myself saying, “It goes by so fast. One day you’ll look up and they’ll be as big as you!” a sentiment I never truly understood until now.

Our church’s recent baby boom has a little something to do with it. Six new babies have been born in our congregation in the past two months, with more to come. As for me, for the first time in relation to my own fertility, my biggest question is no longer, “Oops, could I be pregnant?” but, “Gosh, what if I never fall pregnant again?”

I’ve never fully grasped my fertility as something that would one day come to an end, no matter how much I’ve heard about it. 

I’ve never fully grasped my fertility as something that would one day come to an end, no matter how much I’ve heard about it. I was too focused on birthing and raising our four children to consider that, for every woman, regardless of her desires or health, reproductive ability exists only within a finite window.

As someone whose identity has been intricately formed around motherhood for so long (15 years, nearly as long as I have been a Christian), it’s jarring to think of that part of my life coming to an end when my kids leave home. It’s also an important reminder that, as a believer, my ultimate purpose isn’t to be a mum but a daughter of the King of Kings.

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Recognising this has become even more important at my current stage of parenting teenagers and pre-teens. As they become less reliant on me (and less compliant!), it helps to remember not only where my help comes from, but also that my identity doesn’t rest in how my children see me or how much they need me. It rests in what God has already said and done.

There are plenty of mothers in the Bible who were blessed with fertility after seasons of apparent infertility. Sarah, Rachel, Hannah, Manoah’s wife and Elizabeth all experienced God opening their wombs. So, as a faith-filled Christian who believes in miracles, it’s easy to overlook biological realities, such as the statistic I recently came across stating that after the age of 45, a woman’s chance of becoming pregnant naturally in any given month is around 5 per cent.

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At 46, I’m not actively trying to conceive. 

At 46, I’m not actively trying to conceive. In fact, most women my age (along with my children, and probably my husband!) would think I’m a few eggs short of a dozen for getting a little misty-eyed at the thought of another baby. But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t see it as a huge dollop of icing on my motherhood layer cake to welcome another little one into our family.

I’ve learned in recent months to make my requests known to God, trusting that “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7). God designs our families and knows what is best for each of us. There are women with no children who long desperately for them. There are mothers who long for more children. And there are women with children who, for many painful reasons, don’t experience motherhood as the blessing God intended it to be. Life in a fallen world is never without longing.

READ MORE: Should I freeze my eggs while waiting for my Boaz?

Many Bible commentaries explain Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” as referring to mourning over sin. But there is so much else to mourn in a world that, because of sin, has fallen short of God’s original design. We weren’t created for death, old age or menopause. We were created for fruitfulness. Yet in a dying world, even fruitfulness eventually fades.

And yet there is comfort, through our restored relationship with God as His children, made possible by the shed blood of Jesus on the cross. Every longing we experience on earth ultimately finds its fulfilment in the Son of God Himself and in God’s final plan of restoration.

One day Jesus will return, wipe away every tear and restore all things. Our hearts will never again know loss because we will be in His presence forever. Until then, we have the Comforter and the privilege of an ongoing relationship with the Father, with constant access to Him through prayer.

So keep asking God for miracles, while allowing Jesus to be your heart’s greatest miracle above everything else. He is the author and perfecter of our faith, and no one writes a story quite like He does.