It’s fine. I mean, I think I knew deep down I wasn’t pregnant anyway.
I tried to reason with myself.
It’s better it’s not right now anyway; you have travel plans this summer and couldn’t do that with a baby. Yes, it’s fine. Really.
But my attitude told a different story. I was withdrawn and grumpy. Worse yet, the signal that I really wasn’t pregnant made her arrival the very next morning. Frustrated and weary, I sat down the next morning to have a chat with God, tell Him about my frustrations. To tell Him that it’s just not fair, that I’m tired of negative test after negative test. Tired of eating right if it’s not going to make one bit of difference. What ended up happening was God having a little chat with me about my attitude. Because I wasn’t seeking Him for comfort or guidance, or even just to ask why. I was there, on my knees before the throne of God, to complain.
After being appropriately humbled, and getting my attitude back on track, my mood changed some, but I was still saddened by the test results, which is to be expected. When I got home, waiting in the mailbox was a book my aunt had sent me. Infreakingfertility, by Melanie Dale.
The book is less advice about how to overcome infertility, and more about coping with it, whatever the route a couple chooses to take. I set upon reading it immediately. In the opening chapters, Melanie discusses the struggle of infertility with candor and honesty, blended with empathy and sprinkled with a little dark humor. It is by far the funniest and to date the most helpful book about infertility I have come across. The more I read, the more I wanted to read. A few chapters in, the following quote knocked the wind out of me:
“How do you relax when the one thing you want so badly is eluding you month in, month out and you are powerless to make it happen?....I made good grades in school, got into the college where I wanted to go, never really had a major thing that I couldn’t achieve with hard work and diligence. Until infertility. I could not work my way out of it. I could not make myself get pregnant.” (Melanie Dale, Infreakingfertility)
I stopped. I read it again. This! This is exactly why this struggle is so frustrating! Why this difficulty is different than anything I’ve faced before. Like Melanie, I’ve always been able to achieve anything I set out to do simply by adding a little elbow grease when the going gets tough. But infertility is different. There is nothing I can “work harder” at that will make me get pregnant. Sure, I can do things that might make it easier. I can try things that might help. But there is no guaranteed formula: if I do _______, then I will get pregnant.
Throughout the remainder of the weekend, this quote, and this idea of control bounced around in the recesses of my mind. Maybe my attitude had taken a turn, slowly, almost imperceptibly, until I was once again faced with another wave of disappointment, crashing against all my hopes and optimism. With diet, exercise, and trying to do all the right things, I was sure I had it all under control this time. Somewhere in my mind, I had the formula right; I had done the work and couldn’t lose. But there is no formula. There is no way to control whether or not I get pregnant.
I had to let go.
What my soul craved was surrender.
And oh, my friends, the freedom! The freedom of letting go of the things you felt needed to be grasped at all cost. To relinquish control to the Savior does not leave a feeling of powerlessness, but rather peace and assurance, knowing all that I cannot do is in the hand of the One who mighty and strong, faithful and true. All these things are infinitely better placed in His capable hands, instead of my feeble ones.
Moving forward, I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what is going to happen, or what obstacles are still to come. But I place all that I don’t know or can’t control in His hands. And when I purposefully remember to look at the Savior, the wind and waves begin to fade, as I fix my eyes on who He is and all He has done.
