Permeating confidence

I think my positive attitude has taken over. It's not that I'm happy-go-lucky 24 hours a day or anything (just ask my husband about a certain muffin fiasco yesterday...let's just say he experienced my wrath when he didn't add the baking powder to the batter and wasted two batches of muffins. Yes, you read that right. He was making muffins for me and I yelled at him), but my confidence that I will conceive has permeated me. My default thought is that I will get pregnant. 

I can't describe how huge that is for me, but most of you can relate, I'm sure. I just decided that I shouldn't ask God for something when I doubt he will give it to me. If that's what I think, then why bother asking?

I'm not saying I don't expect hard times ahead. I was just saying yesterday to Lifehopes that I feel as if I will have some failed cycles in the near future. I don't know if it's theologically sound to say I think God wants to test me, but I do think he wants to see what I'm made of, or, at least, he wants me to see what I'm made of. I think he wants me to weather a few storms with my new positive attitude so I can learn how to stay hopeful as the darkness sets in, something I really haven't done yet.

I just know that a pregnancy is ahead of me, whether that means in a few weeks or a few years.

Sew Infertile, in one of her posts, compared her prayer life to yo-yo dieting and I couldn't agree more! As I type this, I worry that this surrendering to God and this confidence in him will not last much longer. I know myself, after all. But I can't think like that. It isn't all or nothing. I might fall off the wagon, but that doesn't mean I can't get right back on. 

And, speaking of diets, if I can be so completely on board with my diet, then why can't I apply that same will power to this? I DON'T yo-yo diet, so I won't yo-yo pray.

I have also stepped up my prayer life. Nothing huge, but I pray at the hour of divine mercy, 3 o'clock. I say the chaplet and some other prayers, including a novena. Then, before we go to bed, we pray more. We say some beautiful prayers I found in a little book I've had for several months, but never opened. I think sometimes we read things, or open things, at just the right time. 

I'm a strong believer in the concept that God likes us to meet him half way. Now, I know that God doesn't have to do that, he can - and does - do anything he wants, so there are always exceptions to that rule. But, for me, I have the most success, spiritually, when I put forth an effort. It makes sense, right? And sometimes I think I'm putting forth an effort, but I'm lying to myself. I'm like that little girl throwing a fit in her bedroom, sobbing and yelling through the door, "But MOM! I AM in a better moooood! I'm going to behaaaaave!" instead of just actually calming down. I think that's how I spent a great deal of my childhood.

This happened when I went through my conversion four and a half years ago. I felt like I was banging my head against the wall for the first year. I wanted so desperately to be at that next level, to fully believe in God and be a faithful Catholic, but it just wasn't clicking. I still had doubts, although I didn't want to have them. I prayed and prayed, and nothing. 

Looking back, clearly, anything but nothing was going on. So much was happening. But it wasn't until I stepped out of myself and really put forth an effort that I found myself where I wanted to be. I stopped going through the motions, and I started actually living out what I previously only said I did. I threw every part of myself into the act of believing, and while uncomfortable, it paid off. Before I knew it, I did believe with my whole heart. It kind of just happened. And not in a I-tricked-myself-into-believing sort of way. No, I now understood what people talked about when they said they knew God (something I resented before because I'd never experienced it). He was present in my life and I was aware of that for, really, the first time.

On one hand, you could say that I was just too lazy to do the actual work involved in the conversion God was clearly calling me to and that while I wanted it more than anything in the entire world, my humanness and sinfulness was keeping me from obtaining it. And that it wasn't until I got off my behind and met him half way, did things change. 

But on the other hand, you could also say that God used that time as part of my conversion. After all, is it a conversion if we don't have to do any of the work and don't have to improve ourselves? Is it as rewarding if he just carries us up the cliff, as opposed to us climbing it? 

I think I can apply that to my life now. On one hand, I can say that while a baby is now what I want more than anything else in the whole world, for the first four years I kind of dragged my heels and wanted it magically fixed for me. I was that little girl frantically crying, "God! Pleeeeaaaase! I'm suffering, I'm praying, I've learned everything you have wanted me to learn from this! I swear I have! I'm ready for you to bless me with a pregnancy!" I wasn't really trying, but I liked to tell him I was!

Now, I hope, I am beginning to be that calm girl who has collected herself and is politely waiting for her mother (or father, in this case) to come retrieve her from the room*.

On the other hand, I don't think I was ready until now and God knew I needed that entire experience. God wanted me to use these years to grow and I hope I have. The individual experiences, at the time, may have seemed useless, but they have all added up to be a priceless journey and one that I hope, one day, I will say I wouldn't trade for anything in the world (I'm not quite there yet). 

I don't pretend to know why this experience was necessary for me and not for someone else, but I do know that God knows us all individually and I trust that he knows what is best for us all. 

I know I still may have a long road ahead of me, but I am thankful for this time of trust, no matter how long it might last (I've heard coming down from the ovulation drugs can be especially hard, so I might need to re-read this in about two-and-a-half weeks!). It's been sort of like a break - from the constant worry, anger and frustration - and we can all use a break, right?

*Please know that I am not implying at all that infertility is a punishment. Rather, the way I've handled my suffering is, at times, as if I am throwing an outright fit.