I remember learning how the Imahot (the Matriarchs) struggled to have children, how Chana yearned for sons. Teacher after teacher would explain that Hashem gives us struggles because He wants our prayers. He wants our soul, our heartfelt prayer! Well here goes nothing:

Hashem, please make this month the last.

Please let me be the mother You created me to be. Give me the privilege to enlighten the world with children who love You. Grant me the opportunity to grow and become an even better servant. Please, Please, Please let us become parents; we won’t take the job for granted.

The tefilot of our Matriarchs, the women that came before us, are so much better than mine. I thrive in my avodah when given the opportunity to rise to the occasion. My davening will only get better. Please make this pill, this shot, this procedure the last one I have to endure. I won’t forget about You. In fact, we’re going to be closer than we have ever been! Please bridge this distance between us; You know I’ll succeed. Please.

I know that whatever medicine I take to try and increase my chances of getting pregnant means nothing because it’s all You. The doctor says everything is good, don’t worry. Yet I know better, Hashem. I know You’re the one calling the shots and my doctor and nurses are just Your holy messengers. Whether it’s a pill or an injection or a new procedure or blood test or changing the treatment plan, I know that You can make anything happen. Whether I missed a dose or two, or if I did everything correctly, it doesn’t matter. You are the only one in control of this situation, of every situation.

I remember getting excited when I finally got a doctor’s appointment or the first time there was a new course of action. I was so excited that then it was going to work. I know better now. It’s never the medicine; it’s always You.

I have so much to give yet I’m stuck, month after month after month. I hate feeling pained because of this void. This cannot be what You have planned for me or others around me. I am doing, and will continue to do whatever hishtadlut comes my way. I have no control on what happens but I beg of You, collect my tears and bring this to an end. We just want to have the opportunity to raise children who are Yirei Shamayim. Just like our parents raised us to be. This struggle is impeding me from becoming the person I want to be. The person You know I can be.

While I’m humbled to be in the company of the Matriarchs, I don’t need be as holy as them. I can work on my kedusha. I just want children.

Hashem, please make this month the last.