Law of Attraction FAIL

I have been noticing lately that the famed law of attraction refuses to give me what I am putting out into the universe and, indeed, DEMANDING.

I have been a raging bundle of hormones, and I do mean raging. I have screamed at people on the phone, cursed every other driver on the road--sometimes just for looking at me wrong, asked a pharmacist how many FUCKING times he would like me to call in order to get accurate information, and on and on and on. I have been angry and short-tempered, expected the worst out of people, felt sorry for myself, seen the bad in most situations, and expected things to go wrong. The whole time this is going on, of course, deep down I fear that the only person I am screwing is myself, and then I just get angrier, and on it goes. All I've ever tried to do is be better and I'm just not.  I'm not ever going to be better than myself.

What has happened, however, is the appearance of totally unexpected and seemingly undeserved grace. Again and again. I did not get the awful results I expected. The law of attraction did not send me evil, mean, nasty people to match my behavior. For whatever reason, grace appeared. Everywhere. That pharmacist? He told me he understands how difficult insurance can be and if I would come in that day, he would GIVE me enough pills to keep me from being sick until we can get the paperwork worked out. Many of those drivers let me in, even when I had cut them off. People I snapped at just got nicer and offered me more help. Mike brings me dinner and takes out my trash when I don't feel like cooking and cleaning. Even God seems to be in on it, because I was sitting on the corner of my bed sniffling about how I'm going to pay bills next week and when I went to get the mail, a good-sized settlement check arrived that I have been waiting on since JANUARY. I just sat down and said thank you about 100 times.

I am being given what I need even when I haven't earned it. I don't have to be better. I'm enough just the (sometimes awful) way I am. I think one form of grace occurs when people who are in a place to give (whether it's money or time or kindness) give what they have to people who don't have it. In my case, I don't have a shred of patience or kindness left in me--so other people who have it right now are giving it to me. It's extraordinary. My temper did not miraculously get longer and I am still pissed off a good share of the time. I just don't have much to give right now. But when I do--on the days when my joy and peace show up again--I will happily share my joy, peace, money, time, and kindness with those who need it, because we all deserve it. We're all good enough--even on our bad days.

Infertility

I have always, always wanted children, and I have been actively trying to become a parent since at least 2008. I had an international adoption fall through, I unsuccessfully attempted the domestic adoption route, I tried to do some kind of contrived superdating where I was on a quest to hurry up and find my soul mate so I could have a kid (not recommended), I tried using donor sperm, with and without a doctor’s assistance, and I looked into the foster care system.  Technically, I don’t know if I have fertility issues—the doctors never found anything “wrong” with me. I have, however, been trying to become a parent—the thing I want most in the world—for five years with no success. And now I’m suddenly happily and healthfully pregnant, which leaves me so, so, so happy, yet not knowing what I believe in anymore. 

I really thought as soon as I learned the right lesson or thought the right powerful, positive thought, or got the right coach, or ate the right food, I would miraculously understand the thing that had kept me from getting pregnant and I could share it with the world. What I learned, instead, is that I have no idea why things happened the way they happened, and I probably never will. I do know all these trials led me to a near perfect parenting situation, but that’s not a good enough explanation for me—that everything happens perfectly and for a reason—because I know there are people out there who want children as desperately as I do who won’t have them. I know there are people who have lost children, and no reason is ever perfect enough for that. I know I could lose my pregnancy tomorrow or my child in five years. I shudder to even type those words, but I need to, because typing them doesn’t do a thing. I am simply not in control of this whole thing.

Given that lack of control…advice on this issue is very rarely helpful. If you are a friend or family member, please don’t give advice on infertility. Just be there. I can’t tell you how much unhelpful advice I got. Let me say that I know the advice was almost always coming from a loving place. Let me also say that I was damn near ready to strangle the next person who told me that the only thing I needed to do was relax, because they had this friend who couldn’t get pregnant and then they decided to adopt and because they stopped forcing the whole pregnancy thing…YAY, they got pregnant!! NOT HELPFUL. At 40 years old, there was not a thing in the world that was ever going to make me relax or take a break or not want kids or stop trying. (And while we’re at it, please also refrain from saying things like, “Whoa, 40, you need to get with it!”  Um, yes, I might be vaguely aware of that). I couldn’t relax about it—it consumed everything. And I had to start my grieving process over again every. single. fucking. month.  It’s like telling a grieving person she would feel better if she’d stop being so sad. Ridiculous. Grief is uncomfortable. Let it be uncomfortable. Allow people to be sad, mad, hopeless, broken, devastated. You can’t erase it. You can’t make it better.

I guess that makes me the anti-advice-giver. I am here to tell anyone who is trying to get pregnant that you don’t have to get it right to earn a pregnancy. What will be will be. I did it all wrong. I did not relax. I did not discover the magic thing I needed to learn on this journey. I ate too much sugar. I tried to be positive, but was negative and very angry most of the time. I yelled at God and told him I’m never forgiving this. I came close to suicide. What I did do, in my very flawed way, was get support and keep putting one foot in front of the other. I tried to do better each day. I practiced gratitude—some days. I exercised more. I was in the game.  But let’s be clear:  those aren’t the reasons I got pregnant.  And I didn’t NOT get pregnant because I wasn’t grateful enough or I ate an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s for dessert. I didn’t get pregnant because I didn’t pregnant. And I got pregnant because I got pregnant.  And that’s it. 

The answers and wisdom I obtained are simply that I have no answers. I can’t even tell you to be gentle with yourself because I know you can’t always hear it and sometimes it just sounds like one more thing you should be doing better. I can’t tell you it will all work out for the best because I don’t know that it will. I can’t tell you the Universe works perfectly because, even though at my core I believe that it does, nothing about this experience felt perfect. The only thing I can tell you is that I stand with you. I send you so much love and compassion. You’re entitled to want what you want. Infertility is HARD. So hard. It’s a grieving process and you’re entitled to handle it however you want. You deserve children. And you don’t have to relax.