After 14 Years of Infertility: A Journey of Prayer, Perseverance, and Unexpected Joy

“For fourteen years, we tried everything to bring children into the world,” says Lilach Chofi, looking back on the long stretch of time between her marriage to Eyal and the moment their home finally filled with life.

Conventional and alternative treatments, blessings from rabbis, amulets, spiritual remedies,” she says. “When someone told us psychological therapy might help — we went to a psychologist. When others suggested shiatsu or acupuncture — we drank natural juices and went to an acupuncturist. If a friend said she’d heard about a woman who got pregnant after receiving a blessing from a certain rabbi, it was obvious I’d go to that rabbi too. And when we heard about acquaintances who traveled abroad and conceived there — we decided to try that as well.

“We were constantly searching for someone, somewhere, who could help us — trying our luck everywhere. And yes, there were moments of despair too, when treatments failed again and again, and the same questions kept looping in our heads: Why is this happening to us? Did we do something wrong? Do we need to ask forgiveness from someone? Is this from a previous lifetime? Our minds were constantly stuck on the ‘why.’ We were desperate for answers.”

Was there everyday life alongside the treatments and constant waiting?

“Yes, absolutely. We had full, good lives. Looking back now, I understand that to avoid sinking into depression or self-pity, we filled our lives with work and activity. Maybe we needed that to feel useful and unique.

“I worked — and still work, as a nutritionist and as a therapist for premature babies at Kaplan Medical Center, and also as deputy head of the nutrition department there. Even on days when we didn’t have children of our own, I felt incredibly fortunate to care for babies and children. I called them my babies. The work gave me a lot of fulfillment — but in moments of honesty, I admitted to myself that it didn’t truly fill the main absence in my life.

“The hardest part was that as the years passed, it felt like people around us were starting to accept that we wouldn’t have children. And when I was 35, and a doctor himself raised the options of adoption and surrogacy — it really hurt. I wanted to believe we would still have our own children, but it was hard when no one around us shared that belief.”

A Journey of Strengthening

The real turning point came on the eve of Purim, about eight years ago.

“I was supposed to undergo another treatment the week after the holiday,” Lilach recalls. “Holidays in general — and Purim especially, are incredibly difficult for anyone dealing with longing, whether singles, couples waiting for children, or anyone facing hardship. I told my husband I couldn’t stay home, and I booked a guesthouse in Safed for the Shabbat after Purim.

“On Friday evening, just before lighting candles, the doctor who was supposed to perform the treatment informed us that he was flying abroad and postponing it by a month.

“It crushed me. He was considered a leading doctor who helped many couples. At that moment, I decided I was done with him and would find another doctor immediately. On Saturday night, my husband suggested going out to celebrate with friends, but I had no interest. He asked, ‘So what do you want?’”

At that very moment, Lilach noticed a road sign pointing toward Mount Meron.

“On impulse, I said, ‘I want to go to Rashbi.’ I had never been there before, but suddenly it burned inside me. We arrived at the site, which was relatively empty. I sat there and — for the first time, allowed myself to cry to God from a place of real pain. I stopped pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. I asked God to help me find a doctor who would be a good messenger. I left that prayer feeling renewed, as if something inside me had been cleansed.”

A Rare Case — and a Turning Inward

The next day, Lilach called a different doctor a friend had recommended.

“From our very first meeting, he changed the protocol completely and evaluated us as if he were the first doctor to ever see us. I underwent a treatment that included respiratory suppression, and they actually had to resuscitate me. My husband panicked — and rightly so, saying, ‘I’d rather have a living wife than a child and a wife who isn’t alive.’ Honestly, I didn’t know anymore what was being asked of me.

“I was 36 and started thinking that maybe God had a different path planned for us.”

Not long after, the couple flew to London — as they often did after treatments, to clear their heads. “But this time, unlike before, I felt it didn’t help at all. I couldn’t enjoy it.”

The Ukraine Prayer Journey

Shortly after returning, friends suggested they join a “prayer journey in Ukraine.”

“At first it sounded completely unrelated to us,” Lilach admits. “We identify as religious, but we never connected to Chassidism. Still, we decided to go. We knew we were probably heading toward surrogacy, and we felt we needed to check off this effort too.”

The journey, she says, changed everything. “These were the four most meaningful days of our lives. It began with prayer at the grave of Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, known as the defender of the Jewish people. Ronny and Nurit Ayalon-Hirsch, who led the journey, explained who he was and what it means to pray there — to gain an advocate above.

“From there, we traveled to Medzhybizh, where the Baal Shem Tov is buried. The experience there was deeply elevating. At the end, Ronny suggested performing a pidyon nefesh, explaining that he would do it while we ‘returned to repentance.’”

Lilach broke down. “How could I repent? I’ll say this honestly — the trial had pushed me away from God. Still, the ritual ended, and Ronny and Nurit excitedly blessed us that within nine months we would have a son named Yisrael, after the Baal Shem Tov. The entire group surrounded us, saying, ‘The hard years are over — you’re about to merit blessing.’

“My only thought was, What a bunch of delusional people. Then it hit me — they weren’t delusional. They were believers. And if they believed this could happen to us, who was I not to believe? Something reignited inside me.”

Names That Appeared from Nowhere

The journey continued to the grave of Natan of Breslov, where Lilach prayed for a list of names given to her by friends. When she finished, she added another name:

“Roi Yisrael — for health and success. And then I froze. Where did that name come from? It wasn’t on my list.”

Their final stop was Uman, at the grave of Nachman of Breslov, where they spent an entire Shabbat filled with a powerful sense of connection.

“We returned home spiritually elevated, and immediately went back to treatment. We decided this would be our final attempt before surrogacy.”

“God Is King”

Hope ran high, but seemed to collapse quickly. “Two days after the treatment, I started having severe pains that I recognized as signs of miscarriage. It was the night of Rosh Hashanah. I begged God to have mercy on us for the sake of the holy day. I lay in bed for two hours, whispering over and over, ‘God’s salvation comes in the blink of an eye.’”

The next day, at synagogue, her husband read the prophetic reading about Elkanah and Chana.

“I couldn’t stop crying. After the holiday, I went for tests, repeating the verse, ‘He raises the poor from the dust.’ When I received the positive result, I called my husband, crying out, ‘God is King!’”

At Rabbi Nachman's gravesite

Pregnancy After 14 Years

“At first, it was terrifying. Doctors identified a threatened miscarriage and ordered rest. By Simchat Torah, it looked like the pregnancy was over. We were completely broken. We stayed home and didn’t even eat a festive meal.

“Then I said to my husband, ‘The holiday is almost over and we haven’t felt it at all. Let’s at least sing something.’ He started singing ‘You shall rejoice on your festival,’ but I opened the prayer book and sang the first line I saw from the hakafot: ‘From the mouth of God, Israel will be blessed.’ I suddenly realized — I was hearing God speak to me. He was blessing us, and no human being could block that blessing.”

They rushed to the hospital after the holiday. “Two minutes into the ultrasound, the doctor said, ‘There’s a heartbeat. Everything is completely fine.’”

Lilach with her newborn son Roi Israel

A Family Is Born

On the 8th of Sivan — exactly nine months after the Ukraine journey and 14 years after their wedding, on the anniversary of the Baal Shem Tov’s passing — Eyal and Lilach welcomed their first son, Roi Yisrael.

Ronny Ayalon served as the mohel, just as he had promised.

“When Roi was a year and three months old, we traveled back to Ukraine with him, simply to say thank you. There, I prayed again for more gifts.”

Soon after, Lilach became pregnant again, giving birth to Ariel Nachman, whose brit fell on the anniversary of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov. His name, she explains, combines compassion and faith.

At 41, Lilach still longed for a daughter.

“I went to pray again at Rashbi’s grave — and once more, the news came quickly. That pregnancy was filled with challenges, but every concern was resolved in a truly miraculous way.”

Their daughter, Naomi Talia, was born on the day following Lag BaOmer — also their 20th wedding anniversary.

“Each of our children feels spiritually connected to their own righteous figure,” Lilach says.

Choosing Joy

Before finishing her story, Lilach adds something unexpected:

“Today, even though my days are packed with full-time work and three young children, I feel a deep desire to bring joy to others. Over the past year, I trained as a DJ. I now play music at bat mitzvahs, challah separations, henna ceremonies, and women’s events.

“Sometimes I share my personal story — not to impress, but to help women bring more joy into their lives. From my experience, joy is the most authentic way to connect to God.”