Contentment and desire

I used to only be forty. As of yesterday, I'm officially IN my forties, a regular forty-something. Yay.

Oh how I detest IF and all that it robs us of. I detest that it's robbed me of the pure joy of my birthday. Instead, birthdays for me have become tainted with so much sadness: a milestone of grief and unrealized hope.

Yet, I am happy to be alive, and I know that I am blessed beyond measure.

Today a friend told me something she once heard at a Christian training, which always stuck with her, "I believe that contentment and desire can reign in the same heart."

Sounds familiar. Contentment and desire, how's that for a fun birthday party theme?

On my birthday weekend, I made the six hour drive down to see my family and friends. Friday was wonderful! I spent the afternoon at the camp I worked at for so many years, hanging out with dear old friends - pure delight!!! Sunday I had the grand - and all too rare - pleasure of hanging out with my best friend, largely.... venting about Saturday.

On Saturday, my family gathered at my brother "J's" house. It was all good. Until I started to feel really, really - really! - sad. No one did anything wrong, it was all on me. I just got so sad. See, my other brother, "T," has two beautiful kids - I adore my niblings!!! They are simply awesome!! They are 11 and 8 now, and I miss so much because we live here and they live there. Yet, they seem to really love Ar and me, but I don't even really get to be the "cool auntie," because I'm just too far away.

Anyhow, I guess the ole green-eyed monster got to me because after hearing about T's fun family vacations, the kids' dance, taekwondo, and many other fun activities... Well, I just got downer and downer. I tried to be okay, and I tried to cover my sadness with the fact that J's darn fat cat gives me a splitting headache and itchy skin, but it was so hard. The gathering was otherwise pleasant and fun, but not for me. Well, I plodded along. Finally people started heading out, so I went out to the porch to say goodbye to J, who otherwise hadn't said two words to me the whole time - which is standard. He doesn't really talk much. Well, it was just him and me, and he said, "So, everything going okay?" I said, "Yeah," and nodded my head. Then.... well, what else would I do but burst out into weepy tears in front of my brother, who is not exactly big in empathy or compassion. He just sat there and watched me, while I cried and muttered out unintelligible utterances of horror at what was happening. Finally, I knew I had to say something, so I simply said something like, "I'm just upset because we just had our final infertility treatment and I'm just sure it didn't work - and we can't do anymore and I'm about to be 41!!"

His response, "Oh, well, everything happens for a reason, you know, so you'll just have to accept it."

Uhhhhh?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh??

Huh?

Yep, I heard it right though because he repeated it, and elaborated, just so I'd be sure. When I gathered myself up a bit from that response, which is definitely in the top ten list of things not to say to someone dealing with infertility, I let him know that I do not think everything happens for a reason. He asked how I could have the faith I do, yet not believe that. I informed him that I believe that, while I trust in God and in His plan, I don't see a reason to believe that every single ailment or happenstance is God's specific choosing. In addition to free will producing various circumstances, which are definitely not all God's will, what I believe is that original sin brought about a fallen world, full of sickness and death - along with a host of other nasty consequences of sin. In any case, my faith in Christ doesn't waiver based on my circumstances, no matter how awful they are to me or whether or not there is a reason. Besides, would having a reason make it hurt any less? Well, he reiterated that everything happens for a reason, and I switched to plotting my escape. (PS: I'm not saying nothing ever happens for a reason.) (PPS: I also happen to believe that God can use all things - even the horrible, ugly, mucky things - to His glory, but that's a whole different story.)

As I was leaving, I gave him a hug and he said to not worry, that everything will be okay. Thanks, big bro!!

I skedaddled out of there as fast as I could, and bawled like the wind. I made it to a drive through joint and ordered a diet soda (a primary comfort food for me) and pulled into a space - bawling the whole time. This was turning into a panic attack, which I hadn't had in ages. All I wanted was my Ar, but I couldn't get him on the phone (he was working an outside show and had to keep his phone in a cooler in this crazy heat), so I went to my private IF group on Facebook where I pecked out the whole awful story on my phone. I love my group!! I got some immediate support there, which was amazing.

Finally I pulled out, just wanting to crawl in bed. Ar called me as I pulled onto the highway, still bawling. We weren't connecting real well because of the phone connection and my unintelligible ramblings. Poor Ar, he later told me he was kind of freaking out because he didn't know what had happened - he feared an accident, that maybe I'd hit someone...? But no, just an ordinary unprovoked melt-down, turned panic attack. Then he just felt so bad because he wasn't there with me, but he couldn't be. Oh how I wanted his comfort though - well, he did give me his comfort, but I so wanted his arms and his chest and his fuzzy face. Well, I drove, sobbing, and talking on the phone, down the highway... not cool, I know, I know!! It's hard to find a place to pull off there, and really - I was just beside myself and not thinking clearly.

Tough night.

The next morning I had breakfast with mom before I headed out of town. Her opening was to let me know we should consider adoption. I let her know it's not as easy as all that, and that - more importantly even - we are not there. To choose adoption, you must be able to let go of the dream of a biological connection, of seeing his face, your face - your dad's face - in their face. When I look at my nephew, I see my dad. I dream of that. Is that shallow? I really don't think so. In any case, I'm not there. But mom says she knows I could love anyone. Well, that's well and good, but I'm not there.

By the way, "just adopt," also on that top ten list of what not to say. Understand something: we all know that adoption exists. Furthermore, we all agree that just throwing out a "why don't you just adopt?" like all we have to do is drive down to the nearest big box store and pick ourselves out the infant of our dreams, and they all lived happily ever after, does not help. Sigh.

I want to be clear: I'm not upset with anyone in my family. They mean well and people don't know what to say. (Hint: err on the side of fewer words of advice, and more hugs and offers of support and prayers.) My family isn't close in any normal sense of the word, but we love each and always mean well. Still, it all hurt like crazy.

I couldn't wait to be home Sunday night, with Ar. On Monday, my birthday, I was still pretty down. Ar serenaded me in the morning - adorable!! Then I slept some more, and he brought me in a little cake for a fun breakfast treat. Still, I sulked a bit - just sad. He wanted me to pick where to eat out, but I just didn't care. But finally I said, "let's just go do something." He suggested going out to for a cruise on the St. Croix river, which neither of us had ever done. That was very lovely - and a grand idea!!! Sometimes you just gotta keep going and find something, I guess. Well, we had a very nice cruise - merrily, merrily, merrily... life is but a dream, right? Then we moved on to some pizza and malts, then went to see a movie - Brave, me being in need of a dose of bravery, after all. It was a truly lovely day, all in all. My Ar makes even my saddest days fun and happy.

Oh, then I got an email from brother J saying, "Hope you had a good birthday, and I hope everything is better now." Yeah.... that whole infertility thing - all better now! Thanks for asking. Wow.