Trisha Craig - When God’s Plan Looked Different

All my life, I dreamed of being a mother. That was the plan. I graduated nursing school and met a great guy. We had a storybook wedding. My life seemed to be right on track—career, house, car, 401(k).

Years went by, and we weren’t able to conceive. My days filled with doctor visits, and my hope for a family felt like it was slipping away with each passing year. Test after test came back without answers: “Unexplained infertility.” Maddening.

I felt like all my hopes and dreams were hanging in the balance, and all the doctors could say was, “We don’t know why.” I pleaded with God and felt like I was met with silence. As I went to appointment after appointment, my friends and family were having kids of their own. While I celebrated with them, my heart hurt every time.

I longed so deeply for a family of my own that it got to the point where I would take alternate routes just so I wouldn’t have to drive past a playground or see families laughing and playing with their kids. It hurt so badly—the thought that I might never experience having a child.

In 2009, we took out a home equity loan and, with the help of in vitro fertilization, my daughter Emma was born. My heart soared, and we praised God for His blessing.

As the years passed, Emma began asking God for a sibling during her nighttime prayers, and once again, I felt the pain of infertility. People would say things like, “You should be happy you have one child.” I knew their intentions were good, but it still hurt. I wasn’t ungrateful—I understood more than most that Emma was a blessing—but my heart desperately wanted to give her a sibling, someone to share life with.

Hearing her tiny voice night after night asking God for a sibling, and feeling helpless to give her that, broke my heart in ways I can’t accurately describe.

When Emma was three years old, we tried in vitro again. We traveled to Portland multiple times. Once again, my life was filled with intramuscular injections, countless doctor appointments, and desperate prayers. When it ended in a miscarriage, my heart was so shattered I couldn’t even get out of bed for days.

I felt like God was punishing me. I felt alone and broken. It was one of the lowest points in my life. My heart was broken, my body felt numb, and the financial weight of in vitro felt overwhelming. My husband and I stopped talking about having more children, even though we both wanted them—it was just too painful. The elephant in the room was always there, looming like a black cloud over my heart.

About a year later, I was sitting in church when Steve spoke about adopting his son, Ben, from China. I’m usually pretty shy and feel awkward talking to people, but I truly believe the Holy Spirit was prompting me to talk to him after the service.

I told my husband I wanted to go talk to Steve, and he said, “What do you want to do that for?” But I did it anyway. Afterward, I felt the persistent nudging of the Holy Spirit toward adoption. When I talked to my husband about it, he was concerned about the cost. We had already spent so much money on in vitro, and he said, “We can’t afford it—even if we wanted to.”

Weeks went by, and I can’t tell you exactly when or how things changed—only that I know it was God. My husband told me he couldn’t stop thinking about adopting. We talked with Emma and asked her what she thought and where she would want to adopt from. She loved the idea of adopting from China, so we started the process.

We chose America World Adoption, a Christian organization that prays over every part of the adoption. The process was long and arduous—two years and one month of paperwork, meetings, online courses, book reading, fingerprinting, and lots of prayer.

On April 16, 2018, we met our son Liam in an orphanage in Guiyang, China. I still remember rounding the corner and seeing him there, playing with a light switch. Instantly, I knew my heart was complete.

All those years of tears and pain—of heartbreak and focusing on infertility—without realizing that God was preparing us for this very moment, for our son, Liam. I had spent so much time feeling sorry for myself when God had such big and perfect plans for our family. Plans that would lead us halfway around the world, but mend our hearts together in a way only God can.

While we were in China, we met other families adopting as well. God gave us friendships that feel like family, including a family from Nebraska who has truly blessed our hearts. We went to China for our son, but came home with friendships that will last a lifetime. Only God could orchestrate something so beautiful.

Infertility and adoption have been incredibly eye-opening for me and have completely changed my walk with God. I now understand what it means to be adopted into God’s family. I know what that feels like—the fusion of a child into your family and into your heart.

I love Liam in the same way I love my daughter Emma. There is no difference in my heart, and God feels the same way about every person He calls into His fold.

Recently, I’ve been studying Revelation, where it talks about God giving us a new name in heaven. That made me think about Liam’s adoption. His Chinese name was Su Tong Kang, which means strong boy. We chose the name Liam, which means strong protector. We wanted him to feel loved, known, and fully part of our family—to know that he belonged. Reading Scripture and realizing my Heavenly Father will do the same for me filled my heart with joy.

Because we had spent so much money on in vitro, we had to take out a loan for Liam’s adoption—about $40,000. I worked overtime and picked up extra call shifts. We cut our spending and saved wherever we could. We weren’t sure how we would pay for it, but we felt confident this was what God was calling us to do.

At the time, I was co-teaching American Heritage girls at Crosspoint Church. The girls threw me a baby shower, along with my women’s ministry group and my work family. I’m shy and crowds make me feel insecure, but I felt so loved and supported. Seeing the outpouring of love from our community—before we even brought Liam home—meant more than I can express.

Even the night we flew home, exhausted from our long journey, our dear friends the Cassidys met us at the airport late at night with “Welcome Home” signs. Once again, God reminded us that we were loved and cared for.

I took a three-month maternity leave after adopting Liam and worried constantly about childcare—he didn’t even speak English. Yet again, God provided: a Christian woman just a few miles down the road who took amazing care of him. I never had to worry.

When I returned to work, my coworkers surprised us in an unbelievable way. One of the doctors offered to match donations seven times over. Together, they gave us $8,000 toward Liam’s adoption.

Exactly one year after bringing Liam home, we walked into the bank and paid off the loan in full. What once felt insurmountable was completely gone. I am in absolute awe of how God moves.

Infertility and adoption have opened doors for me to show God’s provision in my life. My experience has given me compassion and empathy for those struggling with infertility or contemplating adoption, and for those who feel like God isn’t answering their prayers. What once looked like heartbreak and shattered pieces, God turned into something incredibly beautiful.

I’m not a perfect Christian. I’m human, and I still struggle like everyone else. I may not always “consider it pure joy” when trials come, but I know the God I serve. I know He works all things for good, and for that, I am so very grateful.