He Gives the Childless Woman a Family

-Erica Bower-

After losing a pregnancy at 12 weeks, my husband and I were devastated and thrown right back into the pit of infertility. My body craved life; both a life to grow from within and a life without tears, frustration, and questioning.  

I. Was. Desperate.  

Out of that desperation I cried out to God on my way to work one early February morning, begging Him to talk to me. I needed the Miraculous Wonders of His world to invade mine.  

God, please show up today. Give me something, anything!! Please, Lord Jesus. Please. I miss my baby. I just want to be a mom. I need you, I need you, I need you.

All day. Nothing. I mean absolutely nothing. I even searched the eyes of my fourth graders in hopes that one would say something profound.

The Nothingness of the day continued into the evening. I had all but given up hope, when I turned to see my One Year Bible by my bedside {It’s important to note that this particular Bible is broken down into 365 days, with each day of the year having an Old Testament passage, a New Testament passage, and a Psalm and Proverbs reading}.

I should have known.  This unopened gift sat an arm’s length away as I belabored God on why He hadn’t shown up. All along what I needed to hear rested between those pages, and yet it was the last thing I picked up that day.  

I turned to the reading for the day {February 6th}. Slowly, my eyes began to skim the words on the pages when I heard, Read Psalms, November15th.

It was not audible. It was not a whisper. It was a thought. It literally came from nowhere and made zero sense. It was not November, it was February. Not to mention, the date of November 15th held no significance or importance in my life. So, I reasoned it away and continued with my reading when it came again.

Read Psalms, November 15th.

Then the flashes of my morning prayer request came back, and I knew. This was God. This random thought was not my own but Him. My fingers couldn’t flip the pages fast enough to reach November 15th.

Once there, Psalm 113 stared up at me with expectation. My eyes took in every word. And then I saw it.

He gives the childless woman a family, making her a happy mother.
— Psalm 113:9

The floodgates broke open from behind my eyes, releasing a trail of tears to land on the pages of hope. He spoke. In the most beautiful way possible, he delivered to me a promise that I would one day be a mother.

In that moment, the verse became my own. I wrote it in my journal, displayed it on my mirror, carried it in my wallet, and revisited it each month I failed to become pregnant.

Ten months later, two key events happened. First, my husband and I decided to return to a fertility treatment where a doctor placed me on Femara, a drug used to help with ovulation and unexplained infertility.

The second event was a prayer/healing service held at our church for women who had experienced miscarriage, infertility, or infant loss.  During that evening, I was encircled and covered in prayer by a group of ladies. Each cried out to the Lord on my behalf, asking that my womb be healed and prepared for life.

A Few Weeks Later

The fertility office called letting me know the cycle had failed. My routine blood work revealed hormonal levels not conducive for pregnancy. The nurse went on to explain that even if pregnancy were to occur, the levels indicated a likely miscarriage.

I said hello to devastation for what felt like the 100th time. Tears were nothing new, so I shed them and moved on.  Well, ok so I tried to move on, but a nagging suspicion beckoned from within. Remember this morning when your daily bowl of Cheerios didn’t look too appealing?  Two nights in a row you woke up to pee. That never happens! What if…….

I needed to know. I locked myself in the bathroom with First Response while my husband, Adam waited for the results.

I knew. My body told me long before the lines did. I was pregnant. The tears came immediately. Not tears of happiness like you would expect, but tears of anxiousness, fear, and worry as I recalled the nurse’s words, “Miscarriage will be likely.”

I met Adam at the doorway, trying my best to wear a smile for what was supposed to be one of our best moments together.  I believe my words began, “I’m pregnant BUT…”

Ever the optimist, my husband changed it to,  “You’re pregnant AND we will stand on the promise God has given….”

To our knees we went in prayer.

And later that evening, while I continued to fight the whispering lie that miscarriage was imminent, I journaled.

January 16, 2011

I know that God holds my hand through this. He is in control, not me. This unborn child belongs to Him and I speak authority over this in the name of Jesus. I rest on His word given in Psalm 113:9 and the scripture given to Adam in October,  Genesis 18:10 “Then one of them said, I will return to you about this time next year, and your wife, Sarah, will have a son!”

Praise God, the pregnancy continued and our first infertility crusher was born September 22, 2011.


Adam and Erica give thanks to the Lord for Promises kept.  They are the parents to Breckin and Willow and are continuing to expand their family through adoption. More details on this particular journey can be found on estherandmoses.com


Lauren here! I'm literally in tears as I prepare this story for you to view on the webpage. I'm cutting, pasting, reading, adding photos- all through tears. Tears because I can relate to Erica on so many levels. Tears thinking about the precious times God gave me a scripture to hold onto in my most desperate moments and tears because the Lord spoke to her in such a beautiful way. Tears thinking about the many times we received bad news but God was always faithful. Tears because I see her husband stepping up to support her in ways that show Christ's love for us and we need more Godly men like that. Tears because God is faithful and was, of course, faithful in her life- faithful to fulfill His promise to her!!

My desire in sharing these stories is that you would be inspired to hear from the Lord for yourself and that the hope you receive would be contagious, creating an atmosphere for a miracle of your own.

Thanks, Erica, for being so vulnerable and for spreading hope!


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