In a recent address for the Jubilee of Families, Pope Leo XIV called to mind the growing number of saintly couples celebrated by the Church: “In recent decades, we have received a sign that fills us with joy but also makes us think. It is the fact that several spouses have been beatified and canonized, not separately, but as married couples.” (Read more here.)

He names Saints Louis and Zélie Martin, Blessed Luigi and Maria Beltrame Quattrocchi, and Blessed Jozef and Wiktoria Ulma. These couples remind us that the goal of marriage is to reach Heaven together. That’s why the Quattrocchis’ and Ulmas’ feast days are also their wedding anniversaries! But their lives also illustrate the truth that this mission might end up being a more challenging task than anticipated.

At my younger sister’s wedding just a few weeks ago, I listened closely as she and my now brother-in-law recited the same words my husband and I exchanged nearly five years ago: 

I take you…to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

I think I speak for many of us in the Springs community in saying that I never imagined these vows would include carrying the cross of infertility. When I’m struggling most with this cross, I’m tempted to think, “I didn’t sign up for this!” 

But I did. We all did, when we vowed to love and cherish our spouse through good and bad times. 

The Church, in her wisdom, requires all couples to recite the same vows, vows that include the more difficult sides of life. In a way, these vows allow us to accept in advance the sufferings that are guaranteed in life in one form or another. 

As St. Augustine once said, “He who created us without our help will not save us without our consent.” (cf. CCC, 1847) Our sanctification lies in choosing to will what God wills — even when it’s hard. The married couples beatified by the Church demonstrate this. Louis and Zélie Martin lost four babies in infancy before Zélie died of breast cancer in her mid-forties. Luigi almost lost his wife Maria and their fourth child to placenta praevia. The Ulmas lived through the turmoil leading up to World War II before being murdered for sheltering Jews.  

At my sister’s wedding, the priest highlighted the reality of suffering in marriage. He reminded the young bride and groom that neither God nor the Church promise us that everything will be sunshine and roses until death do us part. While we are not promised an easy path to Heaven, we are promised the grace needed to get there. 

The Nuptial Blessing given during the marriage ceremony reminds us that the union between man and woman is “the one blessing not forfeited by original sin nor washed away by the flood.” Though we have lost all the other preternatural gifts once enjoyed by Adam and Eve, we still have marriage. And since Christ’s coming, marriage has been elevated to a sacrament, making visible and tangible the relationship between Christ and His Church. 

That is why our commitment to our marriage vows is fruitful not in spite of our infertility, but because of it. We are given the precious, painful gift of being called to love wholeheartedly even when marriage does not go the way we planned. Our marriages have been entrusted with the mission of showing what it means to love deeply and permanently in the face of great suffering. 

This is no easy task. When Jesus told the Apostles that a man could never divorce his wife, they were astonished. They exclaimed that it would be better to never marry at all than to be caught in an unending relationship! (cf. Matthew 19:10)

So many people in our world today believe the same thing. For many of our brothers and sisters, love is an emotion, not an enduring commitment. No wonder it is so difficult for many to believe in the unconditional love of the Father. As a sign of contradiction, we are called to demonstrate Christ’s love for every lost and erring soul by staying faithful to our marriage vows.

When that call seems difficult to answer, let’s take the time to meditate on the image of Christ on the cross, with blood and water flowing from His side, for the sake of the Church. Let us share our wounds with Christ, lifting them up for the sanctification of our spouses, families, and friends. 

Sometimes I wish that I could go back in time to experience the same radiant joy I felt on our wedding day, when I knew nothing of the emotional turmoil, illnesses, surgeries, and heartbreak ahead. Perhaps you feel the same way. But God has drawn us close to Him in this inexplicable way for a reason, gifting us our marriage vows as a source of consolation. May these vows be our rock as we navigate the waves and storms on this journey of infertility.

St. Raphael, protector of Tobias and Sarah’s marriage, pray for us.

St. Gabriel, protector of Joseph and Mary’s marriage, pray for us.

St. Michael, protector of Jesus and the Church’s marriage, pray for us.

Riley and her husband Josh were married in 2020 and live in Washington, DC. She enjoys journaling, playing Scrabble, spending time in Adoration, hanging out with family, and taking care of her inordinate number of house plants.