Infertility myth busting

Well things have been busy lately. My husband's birthday was Monday and we've been to two Mets games in two days and are planning a third for next week. Let's just say I'm not too happy with them and I'm really hoping we don't see a third loss next Tuesday. I won't say anything more about it because I'm still pretty depressed, but it is nice to be depressed about something much more trivial than infertility for once!

That's not to say my infertility-related depression has lessened, because it has not. Actually, I feel a little better this morning, but other than that, it has been going strong for almost two weeks now. I'd like to think it is hormones, especially because the last few days I've also had a mild, yet constant, feeling of anxiety. No reason for it, it's just there. The only thing I can possibly relate the anxiety to, and I'm still guessing here, is my husband's birthday. It made me realize I'll also be turning 32 in less than four months and that seems really old. Like almost-half-way-to-forty old. And it's not getting old in and of itself that causes me anxiety (well, a little), it's getting old when we still have no children. Never in my life did I think I'd be this age without kids. Never did I think I'd be an "old" parent. The other part of that is, I don't feel old. At all. I actually still feel like a kid, in part, I think, because we don't have any of our own.

I've also been thinking a lot lately about the negative thoughts that are on constant repeat in my brain. I've just been letting them run wild and I'm pretty sure they've been contributing to my demise. When I actually stop and think about what I'm thinking about, it often turns out the thoughts are either untrue, misinformed, or just plain screwed-up logic.

Since they are probably the very same thoughts that some of you have from time to time, I thought I'd lay them all out and debunk them.

Myth #1

If other people who get pregnant consider themselves blessed, then my lack of a pregnancy must mean that I'm un-blessed.

Alright, I'm not sure 'un-blessed' is a word, but you get my point. It seems like every time I read about a pregnancy on a blog, or hear about one in real life for that matter, the mother-to-be refers to it as a blessing. I'm not saying a pregnancy is not a blessing; of course it is! But you know how sometimes a child will get jealous when their sibling is praised by their parents and they're not? Like the lack of praise makes them feel like they're being told they're not good? Well, that's kind of how I feel. When others are given 'praise' from God, or blessings in the form of a pregnancy, it makes me feel like I'm not worthy of praise, which makes me feel like I must be doing something wrong.

We all know that a parent's praise of one sibling doesn't necessarily have any reflection on another sibling's behavior, and I know how messed up my logic is. At least a kid has the excuse of being, well, a kid! I'm a grown up and I still feel this way. I should be able to see that our parent, God, is able to bestow blessings upon others without it being a reflection on me. Just as our siblings received birthday presents on their birthdays and we sat and watched (I actually never had a problem with that as a kid!), I should observe others receiving 'presents' from God in the same way. It is their time, not mine. And I receive blessings in other forms that they may not. Although, they may even receive the very same blessings as me on top of their 'big' blessing, and that should be fine too!

It should all come back to the idea that God's plan for me is His plan for me. No one else. His plan is perfect and my lack of a pregnancy is part of that. Their blessings, their children, their good fortune has nothing to do with me. One is not contingent on the other. My lack of a pregnancy for so many, many, many years (kidding) could play a super important role later in life, or I may never know the reason until, God willing, I reach eternity. But we have to trust that if He loves us more than we can imagine, if He has the ability to make anything happen, and is not making this happen, then there must be an AMAZING reason.

Myth #2

If I trust God, I will get pregnant.

I should trust God. I know this. Everyone tells me to trust God with this whole infertility thing, and it is one of my most often repeated mantras. But the notion can easily become misconstrued in my brain to mean if I trust God I will get pregnant.

Now, no one really says this in so many words, but I do think some people believe it and imply it. I can't tell you how many times I've heard the story 'As soon as I gave everything over to God I got pregnant that very month!' All stories like that do is make me feel more like a failure. I think I'm trusting God, but a pregnancy still alludes me, so I must be doing something wrong; my version of trust must not be right. Or - Oh, if I could only trust God the right way, then He'd answer my prayers! These thoughts are just plain wrong.

Trusting God is not some easy way out; it's not some golden ticket to answered prayers. I should trust God, but not because trusting Him means I will conceive. That's not the way it works. I need to trust God because He is our all-knowing creator and wants the best for us, and I should trust Him no matter what His plan, no matter what the outcome. In a way, you could say I need to trust God even more so if a pregnancy doesn't happen, because then in my confusion and despair I will really, truly need to rely on Him.

I also shouldn't worry whether I am trusting 'the wrong way' or 'the right way.' If we approach God with an open heart and ask Him to help us trust, I believe He will help us. I don't think we need to waste too much time worrying about the degree of our trust. After all, He doesn't want us to spend time worrying about anything.

The need to trust in a situation like infertility is critical. The advice given to us to trust the Lord is sound advice. But we just can't let ourselves twist it around to mean something else, which will only make us more upset in the end.

Myth #3

If I embrace the cross, I won't feel sad.

Ever since the notion of embracing the cross was first introduced to me, I've been attempting to do it. It sounds great on the surface - anything that will lessen my pain and suffering and bring me joy sounds fantastic. I don't want to cry and moan, so bring on the cross! But because it's not as easy as literally hugging a life-size cross for a certain amount of time each day in my living room, I've been kind of lost with exactly what it means. I'm not very good with these somewhat abstract ideas.

So I tried my best. I thought long and hard about it. I asked God to help me. I tried to change my heart and be more positive. I watched my thoughts and what came out of my mouth about infertility. At one point I felt as if I had arrived - I was embracing the cross and even felt a sense of peace. Then bam! I suddenly felt myself slipping into a depression a few weeks ago. But I'm embracing the cross, I cried. I shouldn't feel sad!

I was sure I had failed. Either I had stopped embracing or had never truly embraced it to begin with. But I knew in my heart I still trusted, I was still embracing, so what had gone wrong?

The truth is, embracing the cross doesn't mean the suffering ends. It actually means quite the opposite: We are opening ourselves up to the same suffering Christ so fully exemplified for us on the Cross. He embraced his cross, but did that make it easier? No! He downright suffered. He carried that heavy cross, battered and beaten, and he died a horrible death. He suffered physically as well as emotionally, as everyone screamed at him, taunted him, humiliated him. By embracing it, he endured it for a higher purpose. We can imagine that it brought him a sense of peace, but it did not make the mocking any less painful, the nails any less excruciating. It is how we endure the pain and suffering that makes the difference. When we embrace the cross we experience the pain, but we are assured it is meaningful. We are telling God that we are willing to die to ourselves, on our cross, to live wholly for Him.

When we embrace the cross we will still feel sad, and the depression may come and go. I think it is during those down times that we really need to stick close to our cross and remember that it is how we suffer that is important. We can cry, but we shouldn't feel self-pity. We can pray, ask our Lady and the saints for assistance, and even cry out to God. But we shouldn't give up, we shouldn't turn our backs on Him and lose trust altogether. It's going to be hard, and for some it may be harder than for others, but He is always there to help us through it.

In the end, I need to remember that getting pregnant is not up to me. I can't earn it. I can't will it to happen. I can ask God for it, but it is not a reward to be given to the deserving. I also can't cause it to not happen. I can't lessen my chances of conceiving and I can't do something wrong in the eyes of God to leave me infertile. Pregnancy is not only for the skilled pray-ers or the really devout. Bad people get pregnant and so do good people, atheists, murderers and saints. And just the same, there are people in every imagineable category who are infertile as well. Those who have graduated from infertility into pregnancy have not found some special key to unlock some magical door. And if that turns out to be us some day, that does not mean that we, too, have found the right combination of words, novenas, or actions to finally deem us worthy of a pregnancy.

Infertility can really play with our heads. It leaves us questioning our every action, doubting our value, and doubting God. But the truth is that our future is God's perfect plan for us, created out of love. And that's all that matters.