The following reflection was written by Tiger Lily.

There’s a film currently in theaters called The Light Between Oceans, based on a novel of the same name. I highly recommend any couple who has struggled with infertility to see this film. Even though your situation may not be exactly the same as the characters in the film, there is still much to be gleaned from this breathtaking piece of cinema. Be wary, I have a point to make here that will involve spoilers if you haven’t seen the film.

The Light Between Oceans reveals the desperation behind infertility. It centers around one couple, Tom (Michael Fassbender) and Isabel (Alicia Vikander). They have a love story that is simple and ideal–at least at first. They are quickly swept away by love and marry. They live on a remote island where Tom mans a lighthouse for passing ships off the coast of Australia. The isolation does not seem to bother them much; they have eyes only for each other.

After two horrific miscarriages, any hope they had for having their own family is darkened by loss. It is then that a baby literally drifts onto their shores and into their lives carried by a small boat. The child’s father is with her, though he is dead when they find them. Tom is responsible for reporting everything that happens on the island in regard to incoming ships and the business of the lighthouse. At Isabel’s urging, they keep the child that is not rightfully theirs, bury her father, and do not report the incident.

Perhaps it’s the isolation in conjunction with the pain of loss, but Isabel’s grief and desperation takes root deeply and grows into selfishness. She doesn’t fully consider the possibility that this baby could have a family elsewhere waiting for her, and that by keeping her she could be destroying someone else’s life. (Essentially, she is.) Being truthful and following the law does not seem to cross her mind either. I don’t blame her for her feelings, they are completely understandable in regard to her situation, but I don’t agree with them either.

Tom is more grounded, and what they have done kills him every day. Though he is in love with the child, and she becomes his daughter in all ways except biologically, he is still tremendously haunted by the truth.

At first, I was concerned for where this story was going. At times, it seemed as though the promise of having children was the only thing that was going to keep this couple together. In many ways, that is something that happens in a lot of marriages. It’s easy for marriages to be overridden by the roles of motherhood and fatherhood. Our society definitely elevates parental roles as being more important or significant than the role of husband and wife. This is sad to me, as they are both equally important for different reasons.

Their daughter, named Lucy, does indeed become their whole world. So much so that when Tom finally cannot stand the deception anymore and reveals the truth to Lucy’s true mother, Isabel develops nothing but hate for him. She cannot forgive him for breaking apart their family.

I was taken aback. I sat wriggling in my seat thinking, This better not end like this!

Thankfully, it doesn’t.

I firmly believe, based on what I’ve seen and experienced, that the best thing you can do through your fertility journey is put your marriage first. After all, how can you raise a family when your foundation is weak? Only when your foundation is solid can more be built upon it, and marriage should not be built on the promise or expectation of having more. Those expectations will cause cracks and brokenness faster than you can blink. Marriage is an entity unto itself and must be mutually poured into and nurtured deeply. Even if children never come, you must stay true and hold fast to each other.

This is something that Isabel learns almost too late. She is presented with a choice. In her anger, she has withheld the truth about her involvement in the situation from the authorities. She is hurt, and in that pain she is willing to make a scapegoat out of her husband and send him to prison to punish him for his “crimes.” Her mother reminds her that he is still her husband, and Isabel’s facial expression in that moment reveals she has completely forgotten what that even means.

When Isabel reads Tom’s last letter to her, she remembers what it was that brought them together in the first place. They began their relationship writing letters, and their relationship is saved by one too. It comes full circle. She realizes they cannot lose each other after having lost so much already. She goes after him and, in the nick of time, she confesses to the authorities her involvement in hiding the truth and keeping the child.

Whew! I let out a deep exhale then. It was such a beautiful moment. Isabel returns to her husband, and he is returned to her. The end of the film implies they never have any other children, but you get a sense that they had a good life together regardless.

My friends: whoever and wherever you may be, you can have a good life too. In a previous post, I told my infertility story. My husband and I may never have children of our own, but we can still have a good life together, and we do. We’re not perfect, and our marriage will always need effort and support, but we have love and good foundation, and in that, there is always hope.

Gratitude and thanksgiving are breakers of the chains of bitterness. Loss and sorrow are painful emotions we must allow ourselves to feel in order to heal and move on. Yet, when we shift our eyes from what was taken and we don’t have, and instead focus on what we do have, we can find freedom. If you are in pain right now, and your losses and broken dreams are leaving you empty, seek abundance as a couple. Pour into your marriage together. May that cup overflow!