self-reliance

"Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.

Accept the place that divine providence has found for you, 

the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson -

I didn't sleep last night.

When I got home from work there was an envelope with the birth announcement of my cousin's first baby. I never should have opened it, but I did. I sent my cousin a sweater for her little girl, so she wrote thanking me for it, then she wrote a little about our adoption. She said that she was praying for us and that she was sorry our facilitator's website had slowed down over the summer. 

I don't know if you'll buy this, but I didn't trust her words. I don't think she's been praying for us. This is the same cousin who knew she was pregnant last Thanksgiving and Christmas, but didn't say anything because my husband and I were attending the same events that she and her husband were attending. I actually sat next to her and described our hopes for adoption at one point . . . I wonder if she was uncomfortable? 

I grew up with this girl. We used to ask each other when we were going to start families - I know a VERY stupid question . . . but it hurt when I found out fourth hand after the new year that she was pregnant and had been pregnant all that time. 

But . . . before you click away from this post because you are so sick of me whining and complaining - I'm going to stop doing that right now. Like I said at the offset, last night I didn't sleep. I laid awake, at first thinking about my cousin's cheap words - she was right to say something along with the announcement of her baby, so I can't fault her for that. I just realized that I've been expecting these women to give me something - I don't know support . . . understanding . . . but they can't. 

It's impossible. So I should just stop resenting them. 

They are caught up in the flow of this life, just like I am - I'm just navigating rapids at this point. I laid there and I thought of all my hurts and all of my anger and all of my fears - all of it. It was overwhelming. I thought about what I know about God and what He might be working with my life right now. I'm not sorry for this struggle - though I do want it to be over - because I have learned so much about myself. So much about all of the assumptions I had before this misadventure started. Life isn't easy and my life is easier than most. My husband and I are so lucky that we can even consider something like IVF.

The truth is, all of those women - my MIL, SILs, cousins and friends don't really owe me anything. I have been so disappointed in their silence. I was a fat little tick that had feed off the blood of a lucky life and positive social group for so long that I just didn't know what to do when everyone got uncomfortable and scared and walked away. I think I really assumed my life would keep being easy and that I would always get what I wanted. 

I never EVER dreamed I would struggle with infertility - but it's here. 

I need to cultivate self-reliance. I'm struggling with the fact that I still feel that some of my struggles should be acknowledged by the people who play important roles in my life, but I will probably never be satisfied with their words. 

At about 4 am, my husband rolled over and hugged me, because he could tell that I was laying there awake. We talked until 5:30 am about what I was feeling. I just spilled my guts and cried a little. We were trying to find a way to describe to each other about how we were feeling and my husband said:

"Think what it would be like if one of our friends got his leg blown off in a tragic accident. You would say: "I'm so sorry about your leg." 

And I said that I would try to really think about what it would be like to lose a leg, really try to walk in that person's shoes.

But then my husband said: "Yah, but you would never, ever really know what it's like for that person. Never."

I agreed.

"You might say some stupid things to that person, but with good intentions." He said.

Well maybe . . . probably . . . 

So I have to live with people's good intentions and their poor intentions and their bad intentions. I need to rely on myself more - and God. I'm always looking for an escape. Anger is a good one. When I'm angry and self-righteous at someone else I feel more in control. Let me tell you how so and so is just such a terrible person - they are even more terrible then me, an infertile woman. 

Hah. The logic doesn't hold. 

So, no more trying to escape. I've just got to live this. No one is really going to understand, except someone who had been through it. I need to stop being so needy. God will provide - or He won't, but I will have to get through it, because there are no other options. 

God, if you're not going to answer my specific prayers, surprise me with something wonderful that is more than I could ever imagine. You do those things all the time, right?

I hope I can sleep better tonight. 

All of these words look so good on the page . . . but they aren't very much help in the middle of the night when the house is so silent (no baby crying in her crib) that your can hear your heart breaking.