Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Fertility, entitlement, and remembering life isn't fair

February 2008 after years of trying, I found out I was finally pregnant. The next week, one of my friends who had a little boy, also found out she was pregnant. April 2008 I miscarried. My friend didn't. She was very sad for me and gentle and did the best she could in a situation she could never relate to being quite fertile. So fertile, that she sat across from me shortly after about her hopes to have another little boy. I don't know what I'll do if I have a girl. I need this to be a boy. I bit my lip thinking about the child I had lost, and she continued I don't want to spend more on girl things, and girls are complicated and talk back and boys are easy, I was meant to be a mom to boys. And then, a few months later at her twenty week check up? I'm having a boy! You know why? Because God is good. I knew God is good. And I knew I'd have another boy. Let no one doubt God. I wish I was exxagerating.

She's pregnant again with her third and e-mailed me her feverent hope that this time she would have a girl. We decided to try one last time because we thought having a girl would be nice. She e-mailed. And then, today, on facebook I see that she is indeed having a girl just as she had asked on her order menu straight to the allmighty.

Yesterday, I went to a Chinese restaurant with my husband and brother and the waitress was so sweet. She didn't flinch when W spilled the glass of water all over her clothes [she was tipped handsomely for this transgression]. She handed us three plastic utensils for him because she figured he'd drop a few. She smiled and cooed, and he absolutely radiated and basked in her warmth. you must have kids,  I smiled, observing her sincere ease. She got quiet and shook her head and said no, I don't. I guess I couldn't.

Well then. And there I am with my toddler and huge belly wanting so badly to stick this foot of mine in my mouth.

I'm not in the dark sad place of my infertility anymore. I wish I could say it's because I learned to be more mature or introspective but the truth is my peace arrived once I had my son. It was only once he was here the anger and darkness could leave my heart as a permanent resident.

I look at my friend and I'm happy for her to a degree, but I am also baffled at how some people can smile so proudly and arrogantly that God gave them this and that. How they believed and so they received. And then I think of the sweet waitress. And the countless others who have not. Who have also asked that very same God. . . and I just feel sick inside at how life isn't fair and that not all of us can simply order on the menu and expect Him to give us exactly what we requested.