footprints: a woman blessed by infertility

By Angie Coyne

Her life was coming together just as she had planned. She worked hard, secured her dream job back in her hometown, found the love of her life, and even had their first child just as she had envisioned. Everything was right on track according to her master life plan. The next steps to completing their family seemed like a walk in the park considering how easy it was to conceive the first time. But then suddenly life took a very sudden turn. The next several years brought with them loss, devastation, and an emotional roller coaster that even this control freak didn't see coming. Where her strong faith had previously seen her through difficult times, events from her past were quickly resurfacing and forcing her to confront falsely held beliefs that threatened to destroy the little faith she had remaining.In her book footprints, Angie Coyne shares her story to bring hope and encouragement to those who struggle with infertility. Her real-life memoir of love, loss, understanding, and healing brings insight to an otherwise desolate journey as she shares moments of clarity and grace through the footprints of those along her path. In the heart of any struggle, gaining perspective into the "why" behind the journey is difficult to understand until you are able to take a step back and see things through a different lens. Hindsight brings clarity and reveals that sometimes the heartache is entirely God's plan--to grow closer to Him so you can turn around and help the next one in line once your family is complete. It's often easy to overlook the footprints of those He places beside you in your desperate quest for those that are still missing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638853374

Book preview

Table of Contents

cover

title

copyright

preface

prologue

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

epilogue

about the author

cover.jpg

footprints

a woman blessed by infertility

Angie Coyne

ISBN 978-1-63885-336-7 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63885-338-1 (Hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-63885-337-4 (Digital)

Copyright © 2022 angie coyne

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

To the four most important people in my life—Patrick, Siena, Kian and Braden. You are my greatest loves and answer to every prayer.

And to God—I've done what You've asked. Sorry it took so long. I can't wait to see what You have in mind next.

Oh, to tell you my story is to tell

Of the grace that is greater than all my sin

Of when justice was served and where mercy wins

Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in

Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

Songwriters: Michael Weaver / Jason Ingram

My Story lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Essential Music Publishing

preface

Let's cut to the chase. That's what we all want, right? Just get to the part in the story when I tell you who, what, when, why, and how you're going to get your baby, your cherished obsession and sole focus at this very moment in time. In fact, just skip to the when part because all the other details really don't matter and will fall into place. You, just like me, want to know the when because nothing else in life matters.

Spoiler alert: He doesn't work that way. He doesn't like to reveal His plan too soon or it ruins your story. You have to keep reading. You have to keep moving forward in whichever direction He turns you, and yes, at times you will go backward. At times, you will do a circle. At times you will feel like you are walking off a cliff. You have to keep trying because the journey is His plan—but there is a destination. There is a when, and there is a why. But like any good secret, you won't know it until you arrive.

It's going to be a roller coaster ride mixed with a tornado thrown into a hurricane that lands you on a deserted island. The skies are blue, but you'll only see gray. The clouds are gone except for the storm flurry sitting directly over your head. The shelter is bleak except for the comfort of His arms. The sand is endless and the island is abandoned yet there are footprints everywhere. Baby prints, even.

That is the secret. That is the hint—there are footprints everywhere.

This is my story of footprints great and small and the power of God to bring them along at exactly the right moment. My story is not as unique as I once believed, and I feel very vulnerable sharing these deep moments of shame, guilt, failure, and self-doubt with the world to read. But this is real—this is my raw account of the most challenging and heartbreaking time in my life, told with as much truth, research, and soul-searching reflection I could muster. But it is also told with the best of intentions and only to help others along a similar path—acting as footprints in their lives, God willing.

So as not to delay any longer, read this beautiful poem from an anonymous source. You've probably already come across it because of its popularity and divine insight. But read it again. Take a moment to reflect on your own life and read with renewed perspective.

Footprints in the Sand

One night I had a dream—

I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord

and across the sky flashed scenes from my life.

For each scene I noticed two sets of footprints,

one belonged to me and the other to the Lord.

When the last scene of my life flashed before me,

I looked back at the footprints in the sand.

I noticed that many times along the path of my life,

there was only one set of footprints.

I also noticed that it happened at the very lowest

and saddest times in my life.

This really bothered me, and I questioned the Lord about it.

"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you,

You would walk with me all the way,

but I have noticed that during the most

troublesome times in my life

there is only one set of footprints.

I don't understand why in the times when I needed you most,

you should leave me."

The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child,

I love you and I would never, never leave you.

During your times of trial and suffering

when you saw only one set of footprints,

it was then that I carried you."

Now, my sweet friend, let's take off our shoes, feel the sand between our toes, and simply start walking together as I give you a glimpse into my past. Take what is helpful, leave what is not. Know that the stories in this book reflect my recollection of events. Some names, locations, and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the privacy of those depicted. The dialogue has been recreated by memory.

I hope it brings you hope, encouragement, helpful suggestions, and a different perspective on the events in your life. If nothing else, I hope it helps you pick out your own collection of footprints coming in and out of your journey so you too will find that you are anything but alone.

prologue

Sterile. Everything was sterile. The room was sterile, the walls were sterile, and even I was sterile, I thought as I lay in that hospital bed thinking about all the events that led up to this day just a short seven months ago. Though technically no longer sterile with my enormous stomach as proof, I also still didn't feel confident that we were in the clear and that somehow I had cheated my way into this maternity ward.

I was in such a conflicting state. A prisoner in this tiny room, I didn't know if I should feel trapped or safe. Hadn't I been begging to make it to this exact location only a few short months before? After almost three years of pleading with God to give us another child, I was finally in the home stretch, so really the safety of these walls, the comfort of the twenty-four-hour monitoring should have been more settling. But hospitals have a way of being anything but settling.

I knew I should feel grateful, but I still felt trapped. This wasn't my exact plan, and for the life of me, I could understand why it was His. This imprisonment was forced upon me in such a dramatic and terrifying way, and now I was told this was to be my home for the next two months, God willing. God willing? Why would this be His will? This room was uncomfortably generic. There weren't any traces of my amazing husband Patrick and precious daughter Siena except for the pillow I saw in the corner where he occasionally slept and a lingering toy unknowingly left behind when she gathered her things to head back home.

Laying in that bed so early in the morning, I took in my surroundings and forced myself to relax. I hated that word. Just relax, people would say as if it was really that simple. This will all happen when it's supposed to, they would continue. You just need to relax and pretend like you aren't even trying. It happens that way, you know. All those women who try to get pregnant and then one day they decide to stop trying and, wham, just like that they are pregnant the very next month!

How many times did I have that conversation with people? All sorts of people too. Family members, friends, distant cousins, coworkers, and even random strangers in the supermarket who took one look at Siena and asked when we were going to have another. They would always smile sweetly and tell me to relax and then say it'll happen when it's supposed to as they walked away.

But at that moment, I did try to relax. I was awake once again even though I should have been sleeping. Continuous sleep was out of the question, after all. My sleep cycles now revolved around nursing visits, the monitoring of my vital signs, and the inevitable bathroom needs that always seemed to come right about the time I got settled into bed and felt myself drifting off to sleep.

There was a constant ticking of a clock that hung on the sterile white wall reminding me of just how little time had passed in the two months I was supposed to be housed there. That clock had become the enemy. It hung there, ticking away each second of the day, almost disappearing during afternoons, only to reappear in freight train fashion at 2:00 a.m. as the ticking became louder and louder, passing only seconds just to taunt me.

But that night, I remember lying in that sterile bed, too afraid to move for fear that one wrong twist or adjustment would pop the balloon and set all hell breaking loose. In this case, I was literally the balloon.

At thirty-one years old, I lay helpless in a hospital bed thinking that I couldn't possibly get any bigger. Now, I know that all pregnant women feel that at some point. It's part of the process and something that women all seem to joke about and discuss so dramatically with their friends toward the end of any pregnancy. But selfishly I think to myself that they just don't get it. They weren't pregnant with twins. And if they were also pregnant with twins, I'm sure it was a natural process and not the result of IVF, so I'm sure their bodies were naturally prepared for this horrendous expansion.

Regardless of who they were, I was certain at that moment that no woman had ever felt as enormous and thirsty as I was feeling at that very moment. Yes, thirsty. It was a thirst beyond description. My skin was flushed to the point of a third-degree sunburn, and it seared its way down my throat due to the side effects of the medication necessary to keep those precious babies inside where they belonged.

Magnesium sulfate and terbutaline were bittersweet friends of mine, given in regular intervals through the IV in my arm. I found them comforting and torturous at the same time. My side effects were constant waves of heart palpitations, dry mouth, skin flushing, and headaches. As those would ease the nausea, restlessness, and tremors would quickly follow. I had blurred vision on and off and the insomnia was relentless.

But I was willing to do anything. Those precious babies were God's answer to thousands and thousands of prayers. There was no end to the brutal challenges I was willing to put my body through so that they could live. This world simply wouldn't make sense without them.

The clock kept ticking until I couldn't stand it any longer and finally had to glance in its direction to discover the time. It read 5:00 a.m.—way too early to get up yet just early enough to make sleep impossible to continue.

As I lay on my left side, my hip began to ache. How long had I been there? I wondered. Two or three hours maybe? I tried to flex my foot and ease the pain. No luck. I then tried to bend my knee and shift the weight only to bump into the hospital guard rail preventing my escape. I waited it out as long as I could before finally deciding a slight adjustment was needed.

I regretted the move instantly. Pop. Burst was more like it, but the balloon finally reached its max, and I began to deflate. No! This is way too early. They need more time, I need more time, and we need more time! I take it back. Reverse time, I don't need that hip, anyway. I just need them!

As I lay there quickly soaking the layers of bedding beneath me, I remember taking a moment to pray. Dear God, I thought, you have given me everything, even these two precious babies whom I have begged for over the past few years. Please be with us now. Please do not take them away. It is far too early for them to be born. I pray for their safety and your presence now more than ever. Please do not make this part of my test. I know I will fail. You are asking too much. Please, God, do not take away these precious gifts.

With that I reached for the ever-present emergency cord, pressed its bright red button, and waited for the footsteps of my approaching nurse. I fought with every ounce of my being to control this entire process. I did everything in my power to plan for their conception, anticipate their needs during pregnancy and even orchestrate the way they were to be brought into this world. Nothing I had planned or anticipated had come true. But at that moment and a thousand more soon to come, God was reminding me just as He had been doing for the past three years, that it was all entirely in His hands. I just needed to turn it over to Him and simply trust.

chapter 1

I 've met the man you are going to ma rry.

God's honest truth, that was exactly how she started the conversation. What a way to get my attention! I was shocked by her confidence, though I really don't know why because if any word ever described Karleigh, confident would at least make the top 5. Her beautiful auburn hair, vivid blue eyes, slender body, and spitfire personality demanded attention from all around, and what a delight for those of us lucky enough to be able to call her a friend. Saying that now doesn't seem to do our relationship justice, however. Karleigh was more than a friend. She was and is to this day a soul mate, someone who knows all my ins and outs yet actually loves me more because of them. But even someone as amazing as her can make mistakes so I was more than skeptical.

That night, several of us met to celebrate Karleigh's birthday. We had all grown up together, most of us meeting in either kindergarten or early elementary school, yet remaining friends even through college and the beginnings of adulthood. Natalie Hilde was the host for the evening. We sat around her small kitchen, drinking our margaritas and reminiscing from years past. Having been the recent single girl of the group, everyone thought they knew of someone, who possibly had a friend, which might be interested in dating and could potentially be right for me. Karleigh was the most convincing of them all.

Okay, I'm listening, I replied as I settled into my bar stool for yet another talk about how great this guy was and why he would be different from the other prospects.

He's in my communications class at BSU. He's incredibly good looking, probably in his late twenties, super outgoing, great smile, and just finishing up his MBA. He has the most incredible eyes. All I keep thinking when I talk to him is how perfect you two would be together, she insisted.

Hmmm, sounds interesting, I said as I secretly ran through every possible romantic fantasy I had about a blind date. But how can someone so great not have a girlfriend? What's wrong with him? I countered as I realized most fantasies never seemed to make it to reality.

I really don't think anything is wrong with him, Karleigh insisted. He's just really nice and keeps asking me to join him at his tailgate party, and I really think you need to come.

Ding, ding, ding, I thought. That was the problem… He was interested in her!

Hold on, I said. "He keeps asking you to come to his tailgate party? Last I checked that was an invitation to a date and now you want to bring me! He's interested in you, not some random friend you bring." My fantasy continued to sizzle out. Bingo…that makes more sense. He's interested in the gorgeous red head, and now she's wanting to bring along the consolation prize.

No way. I'm out, I thought.

No, really. There has never been anything even close to flirting between the two of us. Besides, I'm dating Michael, and he knows I have a boyfriend. I really think he's just a nice guy that was reaching out as a friend, she said defensively. I promise I would never dream of setting you up with someone who I didn't think was just perfect for you.

Okay, I'll go sometime, I said, deflecting. I could put her off for a while, and eventually I'm sure she'll forget about this setup.

Well, a month went by and the nagging continued. The truth was, I was encouraged by her optimism and finally decided that a night out with a friend would surely beat a night home alone with my parents, so I decided to take her up on the invitation.

I was finally home. Having lived in another state for both my undergraduate and graduate degrees, I was thrilled to finally be on familiar ground. I had just graduated with my master's degree, and having recently passed the board exams, I was a certified physician assistant. By God's grace alone, I managed to land my dream job working with Dr. Howard King in orthopedic spine surgery. Every day was different and fascinating. Three days per week, we would hold office hours to evaluate patients and treat conditions ranging from garden variety back pain to severe spinal deformities requiring surgery. Those surgeries were held twice per week at a local hospital where I assisted Dr. King as he worked his magic. I loved every second of my new life back home.

It was fall in Boise, Idaho. The trees that fill the Magic Valley were in full color—reds, yellows, oranges, and even bright pinks filled the tree lined streets of downtown. Boise is a relatively small, yet bustling town that continues to grow larger and larger each year, much to the dismay of the dwindling number of us who can still call ourselves natives. The city itself is centered in a beautiful valley, surrounded by hills and mountains, several minutes' drive to forests and rivers, mountain top lakes, and breathtaking views. It's also surrounded by vast deserts and sprawling foothills full of running trails and biking havens for those who truly enjoy the great outdoors.

Sports fans out there will know of Boise by the infamous blue turf, sported by our famous Boise State Bronco football team. We have some of the most devoted fans football has ever known, and the smurf turf has only helped in the recruiting process. Though I haven't always been a die-hard Bronco fan, I can say that I did enjoy the camaraderie that came each fall as we once again cheered on our football team and convinced ourselves that our dedication to the sport was absolutely critical to the success of each game.

It was on one such fall day that I met the man of my dreams. It was Saturday night, October 22, 2004, BSU vs. Fresno home game. The game didn't start until after 5:00 p.m. Karleigh and I decided after several nights discussion that we would keep this a double blind date, meaning I would tag along without him knowing I was coming, and I certainly didn't know who he was or what to expect, so this date was going to be a blind date for me and a double blind date for him given that he was oblivious to it all. We figured that if I scoped out the situation, didn't get much of a vibe from this guy, I could quickly exit the scene without any weirdness and things could go back to normal. We had our plan, some sort of nonverbal hand signal might have been involved as part of the exit strategy, and we strolled into the tailgate party, Karleigh optimistic and excited, me nervous and skeptical, yet up for a good story to tell later.

There weren't a ton of people there, but that worked out in my favor. I will never forget the casual introduction as Karleigh inched her way closer to Patrick. I walked around, checking out every guy there trying to see who he might be, when suddenly he turned around, taking a break from his station at the grill, and we made eye contact. Those beautiful dark brown eyes met mine, his gorgeous smile lit his face, and we casually shook hands over the bonfire, eyes locked.

There are moments in life that you just can't explain, and this was one of them. As cliché as this is to say, something changed in me at that moment, and I knew this was going to be different. Patrick was of average height but compared to my five-foot, four-inch stature, he was perfect. He had an athletic build with broader shoulders and slender waist. He was dressed for the weather that was quickly turning cold wearing a long sleeve shirt, fleece jacket, jeans, and thick work boots. He had on a BSU hat worn backward, which I found incredibly sexy. Little did I know but sporting a backward hat would later be one of my favorite quirks of his personality.

Patrick and I spent most of the evening talking back and forth. We did the normal casual small talk. Back histories, current situations, and job details were exchanged, including likes and dislikes with activities and sporting events.

What I failed to mention was the fact that it was cold. Not just your standard fall type of cold with crisp air and a light breeze but rather a true, bone-chilling type of cold that could only be cured by a scalding hot bath. Though I might have started out the evening looking nice, perhaps putting forth a little more effort getting ready than normal, the evening ended with me wrapped in a poncho, continually wiping my endless drippy nose, and mascara smeared across my face from the sideways rainstorm that wouldn't ease up. But I didn't want to leave. I was having such a wonderful time. Each passing moment of shared conversation made it all worthwhile.

Karleigh and I finally decided later that it was time to go, mostly because of the horrible weather, and we were both soaking wet. We said our goodbyes, and Patrick and I held eye contact with one another just a little longer than normal, knowing this was not going to be the last we saw of each other. We made our way back to the car, and I gushed the whole way about how wonderful he was. There was only one catch…

Late twenties! I screamed. How could you be that far off… He's closer in age to my parents than he is to me!

Well, did you know? I certainly didn't know. I mean look at him! He's gorgeous and certainly doesn't look like he's thirty-seven!

Karleigh, is this weird? I mean, I really like him. He's perfect. We had a wonderful conversation, and I swear there were sparks all over the place. But isn't a thirteen-year age difference a little much? I mean really, how in the world will I ever be able to explain this to my parents?

I'm dating a man twelve years older than me, so you are asking the wrong girl. I have no problem with it and I can tell you there are plenty of advantages to dating an older man. I don't think there is anything wrong with it, and if there were sparks, you need to at least give this a try, she insisted.

Well, we did really get along well, and we had so much to talk about. I guess if he decides to call, I'll go out with him. But it really would have been nice to know this in advance, I demanded.

As it turned out, Patrick got in touch with Karleigh that following Wednesday and asked if he could have my phone number. We called back and forth, even e-mailed a few times, and finally decided to meet the following weekend for our first official date. That next date solidified our relationship, and I knew during that good night kiss that this man was going to be in my life forever. I was beginning to see footprints.

chapter 2

Dating was great, and all, but I was ready for the ring. When you know, you know. Patrick and I just clicked and continued dating for the next several years. Like any relationship, we had highs and lows, but there were definitely more highs and really only one major low. After having graduated with his master's in business administration from Boise State, Patrick struggled to find meaningful work that would allow him to utilize his recently earned degree. After the search became too much, he moved back to Florida for a few months to take a position at a technology company