The Silence of Infertility

Don't we all have at least one critical area of our lives where god, who is present in so many ways, seems conspicuously absent and excruciatingly silent? That's what silence feels like for the praying person with her hands clasped. A nagging question lived in the background of all those answered prayer stories. Though, god asked you for a microd once, and you gave it to me. Why do you seem so in touch with my most trivial needs, but so distant from my deepest desires? And couldn't we all ask that question, or at least one like it?