See the disclaimer here.
June 20, 2013
I've finally found some peace. It's as if a nice quiet has floated into my heart when I wasn't listening. I'm not sure when it happened. Slowly, surely. Maybe it has something to do with the God loving book I just read. There's something freeing about letting go. About realizing it's not actually all in your hands. It's actually not in your control at all.
I had some doubts. I had avoided the internet and research and worry for a long time. But then I felt like I needed to take control. I needed to know. So I did research. I read a lot of boards and posts. And I questioned. Literally. I called my fertility doctor and asked whether it wasn't better if I try taking this prescription with that prenatal. I inquired. I nudged. It didn't work. The response I received was, "This has been working for others. Let's not fix something that's not broken." And you know, all of the traditional wisdom out there on the internet will tell you to try harder. To push back for what you feel you deserve. Control the situation. So I came home and I told my husband, on a bright, gorgeous afternoon while throwing a purple dog ball in the bark park for out little mutt, that this was it. If I wasn't pregnant in the next few months, we'd look for a new doctor. End of story.
The next night, on a whim, we tried a new restaurant. It had received terrible reviews online. The service supposedly horrible. The food apparently cold. Forget about it. But on a whim, I pushed and we went out that evening. It was a Friday night. To my pleasant surprise, the "terrible" restaurant had an outside seating area equipped with low resort-style furniture, two-top tables, and fire pits for many. It was another beautiful evening and we snagged a two-top table towards the middle. Some time later, two ladies sat at the table next to ours. We got to talking. One glass of wine led to another and so on. Soon, we were discussing career aspirations and swapping life stories. I hinted at my difficulties in having a child and to my amazement, my new neighborly table mate told me to see my fertility specialist. She shared with me her own personal journey and the happy ending which resulted. She convinced me that I was seeing the best the area could offer. That he was nationally known. And I felt comforted by this complete stranger, of whom I knew so little. And I saw it as a sign. That my conversation with her wasn't a coincidence and neither way the timing. To have faith, both that this was indeed a sign from above and that the sign said to slow down. To pause. To relax and ironically remain faithful in the process. I still contend that the signs are there. You just have to listen. They're hiding in your heart, your intuition and the everyday. And I'm finally listening. I have faith. Finally.