Who am I? she asked. I answered, my name was Hannah.
Part 3 – June 2015
I married a man who writes football game plans and has done so for more than half his life. He lives and thinks offensively and strategically. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when—after my first reproductive surgery and a doctor’s warning not to attempt pregnancy—my husband already had a backup plan.
That morning in 2015, I sat in the passenger seat of Oji’s car, the only guest at my own petty party. I was less than a day out of the hospital with a 6-to-9-inch incision sealed by stitches and staples, and my pain medication had just started to wear off. The Houston midday traffic seemed to crawl in protest, as if mocking my frustration. Then, Oji gently suggested we attend a foster-to-adoptive parent informational session that Saturday—just days away.
I blinked. He has to be kidding me, I thought. But instead of being offended, I said nothing. I’d heard that sometimes silence is the best defense. And in that silence, God often speaks volumes.
We knew my myomectomy—the surgical removal of uterine fibroids—would be risky. Almost two years before, I sat in a gynecologist’s office as she gently referred me to an oncologist. My uterus was severely enlarged and filled with benign tumors. At just 34, I was told I should consider a hysterectomy to improve my quality of life.
What I heard instead was, You might be barren.
Still a newlywed, I had left behind my entire support system—friends, family, everything I knew. And yet, in response to her diagnosis, all I could say was:
“It’s okay. I know I will be a mother. God told me I would be a mom. He didn’t tell me how—just that I would be.”
My faith was speaking because my flesh was in fight-or-flight mode.
I remember stepping out of that office, sitting in my car with the windows down, and letting the tears fall. I called my sister—one of my best friends—and asked her to agree with me in prayer. I couldn’t afford to feed my fears. I had to set the tone. I knew Oji and I were stepping into a battle.
But I also knew this truth:
“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God…” — Romans 8:28 (NLT)
The road ahead would not be easy, but it was already ordained.
At the heart of it all was a dream to become a mother. And though the route was changing, the destination remained the same. God had not revoked His promise. In fact, He was realigning it.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” — Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)
I didn’t have to understand it all. I just needed to trust Him. Even when the pain screamed louder than the peace, I held onto my faith.
“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.” — Isaiah 55:8 (NLT)
I knew in my spirit: motherhood was still mine—just not in the way I had originally envisioned.
To be continued in Part Four…
© 2023 – 2025, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
