I prayed for a baby — then life said “plot twist”: how we learned to trust God through infertility
We get straight to the heart of it: we unpack how infertility and modern family-building — donor conception and surrogacy — collide with faith, grief, and the urgent need for churches and communities to offer real, compassionate support. I talk with Leslie Lopez, who walks us through six years of fertility treatments, the heartbreak of a stillbirth, and ultimately becoming a mother through donor conception and surrogacy — and how that mess of pain and hope turned her into an advocate. Along the way we wrestle with spiritual questions (Leslie’s move from Catholicism toward Judaism), the awkward and often hurtful reactions from well-meaning friends and family, and the hard emotional work of grief and resilience that doesn’t have a neat timeline. We also get practical: second opinions are gold, legal counsel and vetted agencies are non-negotiable, and yes — donor databases can feel suspiciously like dating apps (swipe responsibly). Leslie shares blunt, wise advice for younger folks — track your cycles, pay attention to red flags, and don’t assume fertility is an unlimited resource — and she names resources (Seeds, Song Law Group) and therapy as lifelines. This is a hopeful conversation without sugarcoating: parenthood is a choice, it’s messy, it’s sacrificial, and with the right information and community we can make it less isolating. My challenge to listeners — and I mean we — is simple: make space for someone’s story this week, listen without fixing, and be the kind of bridge that actually holds. I remember sitting across from Leslie and thinking: here’s someone who survived the wildest fertility roller coaster and came out the other side still curious, still compassionate, and honestly pretty funny about the messy parts. Leslie walks us through six years of egg retrievals, IVF realities, the crushing heartbreak of a stillbirth, and ultimately becoming a mom through donor conception and surrogacy. I (Keith) ask the questions; she gives the honest answers—no sugarcoating. We talk faith (Leslie’s transition from Catholicism to Judaism), grief that never quite leaves but changes color over time, and how a community’s awkward comments can sting more than the medical hurdles. She names the hard truths: infertility isn’t a “one-and-done,” healing doesn’t follow a timetable, and sometimes you build family in ways you never pictured. Beyond narrative, there’s tenderness here. Leslie shares how therapy, spiritual exploration, and practical steps—like choosing reputable agencies, legal counsel, and keeping the conversation flowing with family—helped her survive and then advocate. She admits she shut down after loss, put up armor, and later learned to honor what she’d lost while embracing what she gained. We leave listeners with a challenge: stop offering quick fixes at the coffee hour; ask, listen, and be present. Also, fair warning: the “pretty stroller-and-Frappuccino” Instagram vibe is a myth—parenthood is an all-in, imperfect, beautiful sacrifice.Takeaways:I learned that infertility often includes hidden grief and disappointment, so we must listen without fixing or platitudes.We discovered legal help and a second opinion are non-negotiable—think parachutes, not paperwork avoidance, seriously.I want churches and friends to offer presence and compassionate curiosity instead of rushed spiritual answers or judgment.Donor conception and surrogacy aren’t about designer babies; they’re complicated, regulated options that deserve ethical care, transparency, and a little humour.I tell younger people to track cycle patterns, get second opinions on birth control, and make proactive fertility decisions sooner rather than later.We learned that grief changes color over time; honor losses by naming them, keeping memories, and making space to heal.I launched Mothers in Arms because sharing stories builds community, pushes for better fertility rights, and helps exhausted parents breathe again.