The War On The Womb
By Carolyn Ferguson
I’ve written and rewritten this piece several times. It’s one of the hardest articles I’ve ever had to write, and I’m omitting about 99% of the story to protect my family from potential further prosecution.
A few months ago we were threatened with a lawsuit of up to $150,000 from a small Catholic company. Praise God, we ended up paying only a decimal of that after having to hire an attorney, but what we ended up paying did eat into our adoption savings. That’s all the information I feel comfortable sharing.
This whole situation rattled me to my core. The main reason is because their initial demand was the exact amount we had in our adoption savings (the only way we could pay them). That’s no coincidence. I’m very conscious of my tendency to over-spiritualize things, but I couldn’t deny that Satan was at work (and to be clear: I do not believe Satan is at work in this company, simply that he’s at work everywhere. Bishop Barron said something the other day that also rattled me, that Satan is at work within Churches, ready to distract us even there!).
My friends, there is a war happening in our culture—the War on the Womb. We see this play out every day through abortion, IVF, birth control, infertility, and miscarriages. Satan hates life, and he will attack it with vengeance at its most vulnerable. Is Satan the one that’s preventing us from having healthy children? No, maybe, I don’t know—but I do know that we can use the deep, guttural sacrifices of our infertility and miscarriages to fight back in the War on the Womb.
Aside from offering up my blood and my children to our Lord in atonement for these sins and for the unborn, I believe the greatest way to enter into this war is to adopt (which is also why I think adoption needs to be taken very seriously and doused in deep, deep prayer. Are Peter and I called to adopt? We're not totally sure yet.).
One night, a few weeks ago when my fear and anxiety were at its peak during the above situation, I broke down to Peter, trembling and sobbing and dropping F-bombs like we were in an air raid.
“This feels like a direct attack from Satan,” I seethed and stuttered, breaking apart. “An attack on our future child. I’m livid at this company, but I’m pissed Satan,” I sobbed. “After everything we’ve been through, it’s just not fair!”
And you know what my husband’s response was? He pulled me in close as I trembled, prayed the St. Michael prayer over us, and appealed to Heaven when my rage, my shame, and my dark, deep despair couldn’t fathom uttering a prayer.
Less than a week before, my spiritual director cried in front of me and calmly told me that I’ve endured trauma from our miscarriages. My doctor echoed this the very next day with tears in her eyes as well, and she told me I should see a trauma therapist after my recent PTSD episode a few days prior from losing our twins in January. She then told me that after one and a half years of multiple tests and surgeries, there was nothing else she could do for me, and she recommended I begin a new path for my fertility journey with a new doctor. I felt deflated and defeated. In both instances, I sat there, dry-eyed and stoic.
The pieta has become my reflection.
In light of all of this happening within a week, I also finally pulled the trigger and left one of my dream jobs after several weeks of discernment. (I’ve been working three side jobs in addition to my full-time job to save for adoption the past year and a half). My spiritual director empowered me to make this decision because as life-giving as all my work is, I can only do so much.
“Carolyn,” my spiritual director said, circling my list of jobs on her pad of paper, “remember that Satan is also in this.”
Boy do I know it. Did I need to work three side jobs? No. Were we in a financial situation that pressured me into it? No.
I’ve realized that it’s taken EVERYTHING for me to surrender my fertility and my babies to the Lord, but in response I’ve found myself clinging for control in other areas of life, particularly finances. In order to not dwell on my empty arms where four babies should have nestled—Noel, Leo, Lucy & Jack—I’ve filled my time and my mind with work and hustling, and I finally hit my breaking point. All it took was this potential lawsuit to push me over the edge. (Well, technically I was able to hold out for our long awaited trip to England, but when our flight got turned around after being in the air for five hours due to the Heathrow power outage and our whole trip was now in jeopardy, that’s when I actually broke down).
So you can imagine why it hurt even more when all the money I had worked so hard to save was suddenly at risk. But here’s the crazy, absolutely insane thing—once my emotions had settled a bit, I felt this little thing buried deep, deeeeeeep within: peace. Detachment. Freedom.
For many women struggling with radical surrender in some part of their lives, a way to compensate is to do the exact same thing that I did with finances and work—we white knuckle our way to gain control again by hyper-fixating on some other area. Some women obsess about their health, especially if it’s tied to surrendering their fertility: we research how to optimize our fertility, we consume carefully calculated vitamins and supplements, and we track every little potential sign of an issue. For others, say they are going through a treacherous chapter with some family member, and their need for control may play out through maintaining order to their home: it’s about presenting an image to the world, dust free and aesthetically on point.
Whatever it is, the point is this: women struggle with surrendering control, and that can be traced all the way back to Eve in the garden when—you guessed it—Satan was at work. (For men, we can argue the opposite: they are tempted to not step up and gain control. They are tempted with passivity and inaction).
I share my story for several reasons, the primary one being that I hope some women feel less alone as they carry similar crosses. The second is to cast light on what it actually looks like for those struggling with infertility and miscarriages—we all know that “it’s a cross” and “it must be so hard,” but until I went through it myself, I didn’t understand all the nuances of it. Lastly, I want to continue to bring awareness that the War on the Womb is happening, and not just at your local Planned Parenthood—and that we are all called to fight in it.
So. This coming weekend is Mother’s Day, and if I could crawl under a rock on this day, I would (but I love my mom too much to do that—which, speaking of, her big re-evaluation for her lymphoma is in early June. PLEASE keep her in your prayers!).
Mother’s Day is just a complicated day for me, like so, so many other women out there. I hate admitting that—and it’s hard admitting it. (Anyone else get anxious wondering if the priest is going to ask mothers to stand for a special blessing?!).
I have absolutely no doubt that one day, I will become the mother that I’ve always wanted to be—simply a mother to a living child who makes it outside of the womb. I have no doubt at all that if and when we feel called to move forward with adoption, that God will provide. I have no doubt that the Lord is abundantly blessing us in this sacred season of life, and that His timing is so absolutely truly perfect. I have no doubt that this time is a total gift, and we will look back on it as some of the most precious and formative years of our marriage.
Okay FINE, maybe I do have a little doubt. And a bit of resentment, but I do have an abundance of hope, praise God.
So I’m asking for your prayers on this Mother’s Day, specifically for those who are on the front lines in the War on the Womb; for the women who are tempted to despair, who are tempted to claw for control, for the parents who courageously choose adoption over abortion, for the women who sacrifice their blood each month, and above all, for the unborn. May Our Lady continue crushing Satan's head until the end of time so that the miracle of life will continue to echo the Lord's victory over death in the delicate yet powerful lungs of newborn infants.
For legal purposes (sigh): The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the company that threatened to sue. This piece is not meant to defame, disparage, or harm the reputation of the company that will remain nameless. Any statements or claims made should be understood as personal opinions.
