I’m doing much better. In the last few months I have found a new sense of peace in the chaos. I used to pray in this really professional way if I prayed at all, and I thought I was doing it because I didn’t know who God was and needed to understand someone before I knew how to talk to Him. Looking back I think I was just having a temper tantrum. God wasn’t being clear and wisdom wasn’t providing the answers, so for payback I was distant, silent treatment style, like the grown adult that I am. I thought I was so clever and knowledgeable, rising above the easy answers to the real questions, like my doubt meant I was a better thinker. Answers still aren’t here, but I’ve grown up a little, found some serenity, and a little of my voice again.
When something hurts really bad we lose our composure, I now know this first hand. I have lost my distant carefully articulated speech, and started praying without all my intelligent reservations, just saying how I feel, and right now I’m scared. I’m afraid we won’t ever be able to have children and I’ll have to grieve that and make peace with it. So I pray to God as if He listens and as if He does miracles, and I sob in His presence without holding anything back.
I was reading in the Bible the story of Hannah the other day. She’s a barren women who prays incessantly that God might remember her and give her a child. At one point when she is distraught over the dimness of her future her husband asks why she is weeping and says to her, “am I not better to you than 10 sons.”
These are the poles of my soul.
In one way I embrace gratitude, I celebrate all that has been given to me and avoid being drawn into the grave of sadness. I find adventure in the freedom of our life, and make good with all the opportunities in front of me. I invest in making my life now, as it is, productive and worth something. And I thank God that Trever is better to me than ten sons…? (a. Hannah’s husband had multiple wives but prided himself in his husbandry, good luck squaring that b. who in the hell wants ten sons, a cultural reference notably lost on me).
But then a very fundamental element of human nature is the desire to have biological children. I was reading this article on BBC about monogamy in the animal kingdom and how the main goal of any animal, the driving force of survival and purpose is ultimately to pass on their DNA. It’s built into the evolution of creation, our biology is designed to urge us to procreate, and beyond that so are our hearts. There is a grief that must be recognized in the struggle of infertility. No matter how much I choose to approach this with an undertone of acceptance and gratitude, it is still an undeniably soul crushing reality and must be processed and understood as such. Basically it’s worth being sad over, and avoidance of the pain that is there whether or not I recognize it, is not conducive to real health.
So I pray with all my soul and not an ounce of composure, and like Hannah says, I ask that God would remember me and if He does, I hope I never forget it was a miracle.