When I have counseled couples struggling with infertility, I have observed that their very normal, natural hearts’ desire to bring a child into the world can become a hope deferred that causes tremendous grief. It can also put a severe strain on a marriage. It can even cause couples to call into question their trust in the goodness of God.
Couples may receive medical intervention to resolve whatever physical issues are preventing them from conceiving. Many seek hormone treatments and carefully monitor cycles of fertility to increase the probability of conceiving through normal sexual relations. In other cases, more intrusive procedures like in vitro fertilization are employed.
Sometimes interventions are successful, and sometimes not. Either way, the waiting and wondering can seem to drag on endlessly, leading both partners to weariness, desperation, and hopelessness.
Scripture comes to life on this topic, revealing that the problem of infertility is an ancient one, starting in Genesis. The wives of patriarchs Abraham and Isaac endured years of barrenness before being able to conceive. Sarah in particular experienced much torment, even manipulating the situation by asking Abraham to impregnate her maid Hagar in her place, with troubling, long-lasting consequences for Abraham and his descendants.
Leah and Rachel
A few chapters later, we witness fierce competition between sisters Leah and Rachel to provide sons for Jacob, Abraham’s grandson. Rachel, the favored wife, is at first unable to conceive, while Leah, the “unloved” wife, gets a significant head start, conceiving and birthing four sons.
Despite Jacob’s partiality toward Rachel, he evidently had intercourse with Leah frequently, and she was fruitful. It is fascinating to trace Leah’s mental and emotional evolution through the births of her sons, depicted in the names she gave them.
The first, Reuben, means he has seen my misery. She believed the Lord had orchestrated his birth so that Jacob would love her. Her second was Simeon, one who hears, believing Yahweh had heard her anguished cries over her husband’s rejection and gifted her with another son. Son number three was Levi, meaning attached. Leah thought, “Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons” (Gen. 29:34).
Only when Leah bore her fourth son did she stop desperately trying to earn her husband’s affection. She named him Judah, which means praise, saying, “This time I will praise the Lord” (v. 35). Scripture is silent about what Jacob actually thought and felt toward Leah. This was her own admirable growth process, and she deserves our admiration and respect.
Leah’s story illustrates how the ability to conceive and bear children can directly correlate with a wife’s sense of security and attachment to her husband. This may seem like an antiquated idea, or that it only applies in marriages where the wife feels unloved, like Leah.
This is not so. Even wives who know they are loved and highly valued by their husbands express feelings of inadequacy as a woman and wife when they are unable to bear children. It is not always rational, but thoughts and emotions don’t have to be rational to be very real.
This seems to have been the case with Rachel. In her grief and jealousy toward her sister, she demanded of Jacob, “Give me children, or I’ll die!” To which he angrily replied, “Am I in the place of God, who has kept you from having children?” (Gen. 30:1–2). Despite knowing that Jacob loved her passionately, Rachel was inconsolable because she could not keep up with her fertile sister. She contrived to produce sons through her maidservant, as Sarah had done. Eventually, Rachel’s barrenness was healed, and she gave birth to two sons who became Jacob’s favorites. In the end, both sisters had plenty of children to love and were able to fulfill their dreams of motherhood.
Hannah, Elkanah, Eli and Samuel
Many people navigating the problem of infertility find hope in the story of Hannah in 1 Samuel. Often the focus of study is Hannah’s grief, her prayer for a child, and God’s answer. It is worthwhile to step back and view Hannah’s fertility story in a broader social and spiritual context. She was not alone in the story but had strong support system from her husband and her priest.
Like Rachel, Hannah had a sister-wife, Peninnah, who had produced children with Elkanah. Peninnah cruelly mocked Hannah for her childlessness. This became unbearable, causing Hannah to become severely depressed and stop eating. When Elkanah noticed this, and realized the cause of her deep distress, he asked her,
“Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?” (1 Sam. 1:8).
Elkanah’s attempt to comfort his wife may seem rather clueless—especially to women! It seems at best unhelpful, at worst insensitive and hurtful. Even the most devoted husband can’t remove the ache of barrenness in a woman who desperately wants to be a mother.
But I’d like to give Elkanah some credit. It appears this husband understood love languages. Each year at the time of the sacrifice, he gave Hannah an extra portion of the offering to express his love. Though his words may seem clumsy and self-serving, he demonstrated that he loved her as a woman, as a wife, and as a person. He expressed her value in his eyes, while also affirming his commitment to meet her needs in the absence of offspring. He wanted her to feel secure in his unconditional love.
This response matters to a wife, even if she can’t receive it well at a vulnerable moment of aching need. Elkanah’s husbandly words and the emotional bond they represent can form a safety net for a wife who is grieving.
Sometimes this is the best outcome of counseling for an infertile couple. They affirm their love and attachment to one another, with or without children.
Instead of attending counseling sessions, Hanna accompanied her husband to the Tabernacle in Shiloh. There she prayed and cried out to God. The priest Eli stepped in, first to rashly accuse Hannah of drunkenness, and when corrected, to affirm her faith and encourage her to expect God’s answer.
Hannah wiped away her tears. She went to the feast to worship with her husband. She ate dinner, her faith bolstered. When they returned home, Elkanah made love to Hannah and, lo and behold, she became pregnant and gave birth to Samuel. Fulfilling her vow, Hannah dedicated Samuel to serve in the Tabernacle as soon as he was weaned. Samuel grew up to be a mighty prophet and judge in Israel. God doubled down and blessed Hannah with several more children after Samuel.
Hannah is unquestionably the central, admirable hero of the story, second only to the God who answered her prayer. Her praise to the Lord provides some of the most beautiful poetry in Scripture, giving thanks to the God who hears and heals.
I have witnessed the uniquely redemptive joy of women when their prayers have been answered and they hold a long-awaited child in their arms. Sometimes after a period of infertility, couples like Hannah and Elkanah are successful and begin building the family they have longed for.
In other cases, despite many attempts and medical interventions, there is still no baby. Couples sometimes become bitter and resentful, and in some cases it unfortunately destroys the marriage. Others are better able to accept that they may not bear children of their own and do not blame one another for it. Some foster or adopt, or pour more energy into their vocations and avocations.
Whatever the case, church and mental health communities can serve couples by supporting a healthy grief process, strengthening marital love and commitment, and connecting them to other couples able to share their experience and hope.
Like Hannah and Elkanah, married partners need to turn toward one another in love throughout the struggle with infertility, and not succumb to either shame or blame. They can also draw near to peers, pastors, counselors, and spiritual leaders with compassion and discernment.
Hannah fortunately had a divinely designed support system. We all need one, especially at a time like this.
