Friday, January 18, 2013
#January Joy 18: Do some family planning. (Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.)
Hahahahhahahahahahahahaa. Do you hear my ironic laugh? Can I laugh at this prompt for another half an hour?
Ok then. Let's recapitulate. Family planning. Plan a family. Plan. Yeah. Plan. As far as I know, we can only plan things that are under our control am I right? Or can we plan the uncontrollable? And if so, can please someone tell me how? Of course this subject is a little bit sensitive, given our situation. I started planning a family, in my mind, since I was a little girl, and I decided it was possible, that I was open and ready for it when I was 24, at the time I graduated from my first degree. I hadn't met the boy then yet, so it was not a real possibility. Once that we were together we knew we wanted to start our own little clan pretty much right away. You know how the rest of that story is going. So I guess what I want to say is that you can't plan a family. It's the biggest lie since Santa Claus. It's like human rights. You can say that health is a human right, but some people are just born with awful diseases, what happens to their right then? I never understood that. What I understand is that sh*t happens. And how we deal with it is key.
As you start on the family planning journey, you decide to throw away your birth control of choice. You budget. You resolve that you are ready and get in synthony with the universe. From that moment on you jump. And you hope. If you are lucky, you will be within the 75-90% of couples that will get pregnant within a year of unprotected, properly timed intercourse. If you are part (and I certainly hope not) of the 10-25%·* that will struggle, or like us, a member of the 1% , you start watching the World as from a different reality, from some kind of lonely, sad, parallel universe, like mermaids**. You start looking at how life (in the most literal sense of the word) happens to everyone but to you. And you wonder. Why? Really, Why? Did I do anything wrong to deserve this? Is this a sick joke from the Universe? When will it stop?
If there is one lesson I've learnt in trying-to-build-a-family-with-children-land is that you have to be ready to let go of ALL control. Any sensible, honest account of pregnancy will let you know that the biggest shock of all is losing control of your body, or rather, realizing that we do not have any control at all. And what about lovely people that have had to go through the heartbreaking, life shattering event of a miscarriage? If family planning existed, if there was control, these awful things would not happen. We would all be able to keep healthy little babies in our wombs just out of our love and willpower. But Nature is not perfect and Science does not know everything. Letting go of control is the first step in family-planning. Accepting that you're in for the scary, the terrifying, the dreadful. All you can do is hold hands and hope for the best.
Oddly (and please do not stop reading after I say this), I have been finding comfort in the words of a prayer we used to say everyday, at 12:00 sharp at my hardcore-catholic middle school, the Angelus. These words repeat the answer that Virgin Mary gave to Archangel Gabriel after she heard the news that she would be bearing the son of God in her womb. These words are: Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum. Be it done unto me according to your word. Hágase en mi según tu palabra.
There is acceptance in those words, there is letting go. There is a total, a complete, surrender.
And to survive this journey, I have to surrender too, to let it go. Now, whenever I am having a hard moment I think of those words and I let them take over me. It's going with the flow. It is choosing to walk the (hard) path that has been laid in front of us. Taking it one day, one month at a time, hoping for the best, choosing joy.
*(in 10% of all struggling couples (10%) all the tests appear perfectly fine, so your diagnosis is "unexplained")
** Thanks Luna, for linking to Jiraffe's beautiful text:
"Being submerged, being infertile reminds me of the great Hans Christian Andersen story called The Little Sea Maiden, destined to watch her dreams and desires but always from a great distance, under water or at the surface. For that is how infertility feels to me. I am like a mermaid. It’s not possible for me to walk on land and do things that come naturally to the mortals who are earthbound. Bargains need to be made, lessons learnt, relationships tested in the most severe of ways for me to achieve one dream of happiness. Infertility is a curse. And worse, so often it is a silent curse, one that cannot be revealed to those around us. So those who suffer from it are doubly afflicted. I wish that the mortals happily walking the land could read this story and comprehend its truth. For infertiles are so often at the mercy of fate, of sea witches. And so often, no one knows"
Last Image source.