Clarity

I'm sort of the most impatient person you'll ever meet. Just to give you a general idea of what I mean, I'm a reads-the-last-page-in-books, Googles-show-spoilers, unwraps-and-then-rewraps-gifts kinda person. Some people sort of glower at me and assume I'm terribly immature (which I am) because knowing ruins the greatness of the surprise, don't I know, but, see, I like to have things to look forward to even if it's more than I really deserve to know. It's not something I'm terribly proud of, that I can't resist the urge to know the endings of things, but I've also long ago accepted that if given the chance to know or not know, I'm going to choose knowing almost every single time.

Mike proposed to me two-and-a-half years into our relationship and, oh my lord, I was close to having a conniption with all the waiting. I knew we were heading towards an engagement, but I wanted one like now, could you propose now? How's now for you? And Mike has sort of always been an easy-does-it, let's-just-enjoy-the-here-and-now, let's-be-totally-prepared-and-not-be-impulsive kind-of guy. And I'm all, YOU ARE KILLING ME. CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH IT ALREADY? When I had asked him for the 87th time when he was going to propose—now? are you going to do it now? what about now?—he finally shook me and said, "You are going to ruin it when it finally happens if you don't stop." And so I stopped. I took many deep breaths and relaxed and waited. Not because it was natural but because I could see it was essential. It came a few months later, and it shocked me to my core when it did. Not because I was stunned that he wanted to marry me (I am a total catch) but because at 5am on a beach in Florida—when we were supposed to be on our way to the airport—I was thinking about whether we had our IDs and where we were going to stop for breakfast and when our next vacation was going to be, I was not thinking he was about to get on one knee. And if I had known it was coming right then, it would have totally ruined how I felt when he asked. In that moment I felt better than I had ever felt before.

So it would seem easy, after saying all that, to put two and two together. To realize that I should stop forcing the endings to show themselves before the beginnings have even gotten underway. But I can't help it. It's sort of this undeniable facet of myself—I am impatient, I can't wait. I am terrified that if I do wait, if I pause for even a second, the miracle will just pass me by. So I try, desperately, to reach out and grab it and force it to stay by me. And it's all wrong, I know, but it's instinctual all the same.

When Mike and I began trying for a baby, there was not a spot I could see on the horizon that I didn't envision I would be pregnant for. I couldn't see as far as the infertility would end up taking me. I could not imagine, last May, not being pregnant at Natalie's wedding. Good, I thought, when her maid-of-honor cake showed up at my door more than a year ago. You'll be the perfect choice, easily refusing all that champagne. But it was just me standing beside her, not me and her niece/nephew. Not me and the kid I will leave with her for long weekends and on date nights. (Natalie, by the way, I'm totally leaving my kid with you for long weekends and on date nights. You too Crystal.)

I sometimes fear this space is going to become far too dreary, far too sad with all my baby ranting, but bear with me will you? It lightens up soon enough.

See, I didn't know how I was going to do it last month—another month of waiting, counting, sipping water while craving wine, lashing out at my husband, my friends, even the cashier at Tom Thumb because of the medicine coursing through me. I told myself that if it didn't happen that month, I just didn't think I could go on. 

And it didn't happen.

And I'm going on. I have to. I want to. It shocks me what we—as humans—are able to bear sometimes.

So many people have told me that infertility ruins marriages, it takes this undeniable wrench and drives people apart. It's almost uncontrollable. And, you know, I get it. You're in such pain, so you project it. Instead of dividing it, you throw it. You want it off of you and unless the dog is willing to take it on, your spouse has to. They have to catch it. There's nowhere else for it to go. But in my case, it's not a child that I want, it's his child. I want to have a little boy or girl who knows they are so unbelievably, out-of-their-mind lucky because they have his hair, his ease, his desire to always see and do more. I want to look deep into my child's eyes and say, "Baby, you see that man? That kind of odd, funny man who still, at thirty-plus years of age, finds it hilarious to fart? I'm lucky to be married to him. He's a really cool husband. But you? You get to be his kid. And that makes you so much luckier than anyone I've ever known. You're never going to doubt that I love you; I'll make sure of that. One day it's going to hit you how fortunate you are to have me. But him? From here on, from this day until the day you die, it will never escape you that you won the damn father lottery." And I'll actually use the word damn because that's just the kind of mother I plan to be.

I'm not sure how we make it through all the pain. I don't know where the strength comes from, honestly. I don't know how we manage to stay sane, rational people when we have every reason to go crazy.

I'm an impatient person, by nature. I want to know now. I want to see now. I want to feel it all now. I Google One Tree Hill Spoilers once a week. SO WHAT OF IT. I wanted to be pregnant a year ago and every day since then. But I have learned something, slowly and surely, through all of this. And it is the single, most beautiful lesson I have learned in life. I have learned that when you want something--when you really want it--you will wait for it. You will be patient and you will hold on and you will wait. Where I can't possibly find the strength to wait for the rest of it, it's been easier than I thought to wait for this. And patience is something this painful journey has given me, has granted me. And I am more thankful for it than there are words in this world.

I've decided not to talk about this process for a while and not because I want to hide anything--goodness, if anything, my family is praying I'll just WITHHOLD for a moment because could I be any more out there?--but because I have a life to live. I'm going to focus on shoes and lots of champagne until we actually get pregnant and then oh holy hell do you have a lot of fun posts in store for you. No, really, I feel for you. Well, actually, I really feel for my mother who--unlike all of you lovely men and women--HAS to pay attention to me. But until then, I'm going to take a break from all the angst and sadness and wringing of my hands. Instead I'm going to enjoy my husband. I'm going to enjoy my friends. I'm going to enjoy Top Chef re-runs and US Weeklies (except when Heidi and Spencer are on the cover and I REFUSE TO CALL THEM SPEIDI, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT SUGGESTING IT) and bubbly bottles of Prosecco and BlogHer and Francesca's dresses and playing Mario Kart with Natalie even though she totally invades my personal space and listening to the new Jason Mraz album and intensely reading the last book of the Twilight series and, fine, Googling John Mayer and Jennifer Aniston photos. I WON'T BE ASHAMED I DO THAT. And also kind of wondering if I can afford to go to Spain on $132. I'm leaning towards no but that won't stop me from researching the hell out of my options.

See, this is all too short to stand still. This is all too beautiful to see it through blurry eyes. This is all to good to be painful.

I am far too lucky to be ungrateful.

So I'll wait. I'll be patient. And I'll go ahead and dance in the mean time.

Comments

[jodifur]

1.

I'm not going to tell you that it will happen when you stop stressing and you can always adopt because stuff like this is obnoxious and you know that.
I will say that it's ok to be sad, to hurt, to feel broken. It's okay to cry and throw things and fight. But it's also okay to be happy.

[Jess]

2.

You have such great perspective. I totally feel you on wanting to have HIS baby, the child of the man of all men, the amazing and the true and the right one, the one who will be the best father you ever know. And I'm sure that if I struggle with infertility I will have those feelings too. But even if you were to adopt a child, it would be a lucky, lucky baby to have you both as parents. That part wouldn't change, even if it didn't have Mike's hair or your eyes. Because you guys are going to be amazing parents.

[Sharon]

3.

That was so beautifully written. Thanks for sharing.

[Maryann]

4.

Gosh - once again you have putten my life, complaints and "woe-is-me" attitude in perspective.

I need to feel lucky more often and realize that it takes a lot less energy to be thankful for what I have, than to focus on what I don't. My perspective is off-kilter for an entirely different reason than yours, but I need to appreciate things for now like you do. Thank you.

[Katie]

5.

I totally thought you were going to say you are pregnant at the end of that! But I'm so happy that you are at peace with things now...you definitely do have a lot to be grateful for and all of this waiting is just going to make that special moment even sweeter.

[sarah]

6.

You know what? Good for you! I am so happy to hear that you are so appreciative of all the wonderfulness you have around your; your future baby is going to be so lucky to be part of it!

[moo]

7.

I understand because I am the same way. I have to KNOW and I HATE surprises. For me, it's about being in control ... of my life, my mind, my body.

I'm so sorry it's been hard for you. And we're here to listen, when you want us to be.

[elizabeth]

8.

yes. exactly.

[Kate]

9.

I think we ALL need to be patient and dance in the meantime of our lives. I too find myself focusing on future stuff and fretting about it instead of enjoying what's going on around me.

Thanks for the reminder. :)

[Shelly]

10.

I love how you write, so personal, humorous and inviting. My cousin was having the same problems you are having and miraculously is expecting her second baby at 37 and the happiest she's ever been. Don't think so much about running out of time, you have LOTS of time.
I know adopting isn't always the route you wish to take if it came the time to, but I was adopted and the amount of LOVE I have for my parents is overwhelming. My mom and dad were unable to have children because my dad had a stomach tumor. They took me home at 5 weeks old and my mom tells me how that was the happiest day of her life, and trust me, the pictures proove it! You will make an AMAZING parent, child born out of the womb or otherwise.

[anne]

11.

BRAVO!!!

I know you won't respond to this, but it is this kind of perspective that I had tried/hoped/wanted to convey to you. Cheers!

[Rachel]

12.

i love you.

[Nicole]

13.

Beautiful! And inspiring!

[Debbie]

14.

That's enough to make me click through from my reader AND comment for the first time. Unusual for me. :)

The best ending to a post, ever. Or maybe a close second to the one that made me want to subscribe to your blog, wherein you said something to the effect of "you changed me before you were born" (of course, it was waaaay more beautifully written than that) to the unborn child that you've been trying for.

Amazing writing!

[Raven]

15.

I can't wait to meet you and HUG YOU and DRINK WITH YOU!

[She Likes Purple]

16.

Anne: Thank you.

Raven: I can't wait, either. Just about a month and, whoa, where did the time go?

[Jodi]

17.

I'm with Debbie, this was enough to click through for me. Props to you for dancing anyway. Beautiful perspective.

[Kristen]

18.

That was beautifully written, very inspiring.

[Camels & Chocolate]

19.

Yet another reason we're exactly alike...I do all of those things, too. And American Idol? I would call my mom in TN as soon as it aired there to find out who got kicked off that night. And I STILL wrap and rewrap presents -- that is if I haven't successfully been able to find them in their hiding spots before they're wrapped.

[Angella]

20.

This was beautiful, Jennifer. Just like you.

[ali]

21.

this may have been my favorite post of yours.
you = all kinds of awesome.

[Jen]

22.

You are such an incredible writer. I look forward to reading all of your entries full of "dancing." :)

[Amanda Brown]

23.

You amaze me, Jennie. Plainly and simply.

[water sign]

24.

Thank you for so beautifully sharing your struggles with patience and waiting for dreams to come true and how to make the best of the present, it is just what I needed to hear today.

[Heather]

25.

Once again, you continue to inspire me. You are awesome. Thank you for helping me put some things into perspective.

And I also unwrap and re-wrap presents. I can't help it!!

[Kristabella]

26.

What a great post! I, like probably everyone who reads this, wants you to get pregnant yesterday! And I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. And the clarity and the patience you're showing is only going to make you an even better mom than you would have already been. I mean, if there is a way to be better than TEH AWESOME! And like I said all along, baby is going to wait until we can all get silly drunk at BlogHer!

[JennyL]

27.

This is a good reminder post for me for different reasons. It's important (for me) to believe there is a bigger plan, and we just have to live our lives and be happy every day.

[lissa]

28.

Wow. This was a really beautiful post. I think it's good to take a step back and continue to enjoy life.

[Loralee]

29.

I am very impatient, too. VERY. I've waited 5 years for another baby and in a lot of ways it has been absolutely wretched.

It's true, though. If you immerse your life with the impatience and the NOW! You miss and ruin an awful lot. (It's so hard to calm the freak down, though. Sigh...)

[Stephanie]

30.

it'll be worth the wait.

for you and mike, too.

[OMSH]

31.

There is a world of wisdom in that post. Okay fine, there are WORLDS of wisdom, but as I'm only assigned to this ONE world, I can't really speak for any others.

And farting 30-something year old husbands?
Oh yea, I have one of them.

And saying "damn" in front of your children? Well, we allow it ONLY for that one song...

"She got ran over by a damned old train..."

I'm hugging you.
Do you feel it?
Huh? huh?
Yeah, that's me.

[britt]

32.

beautiful post! i am so happy for you that you have come to realize this because living life, with whatever it may throw at you, is so important because it's the only one we've got. you keep enjoying your husband and i know things will work out in time.

i came to this same realization a couple months ago and i look at life so differently now. i love to hear when other people find this out for themselves! you are one lucky girl!

[Drew]

33.

This was beautiful. I see myself in so much of what you wrote here - right down to your very last words. Dancing in the mean time is really all there is to do. Bring on the music...

[Christina]

34.

I can't put myself in your shoes but that was hard for me to read. For you to live it and write it has to hurt. It took awhile for us to get pregnant and every month I wasnt I felt completely crushed. I am so sorry that you are going through this. I know you two will get there, I hope it's very very soon.

[Danielle-lee]

35.

On a different scale, but I have been thinking about how much time I have been wasting, WAITING for something to happen. And hell, sometimes I really don't think it will happen, and look at all this damn time I have wasted, feeling sad, desperate, lonely, and frustrated?
I am sorry you are going through this. I know I can't completely understand, but you are totally giving me a good idea of what it is like to be in that position.
I hope that you do enjoy your time now. Shoes, champagne, friends, your husband.....

[Slynnro]

36.

Every time you write about this, I'm sort of at a loss for words.

[Sarah]

37.

That is one of the most wonderful posts I have ever read - which is saying something considering the number of blogs I follow on a regular basis! :) The paragraph about Mike brought tears to my eyes - I hope someday to know that kind of love. Thank you for sharing.

[Leah]

38.

I waited about five or six years for a baby. (That's a few years before I'd even met Simon, let alone gotten to the point where it was even possible to have a baby with him!) And this wasn't the vague sort of "Babies are cool; I should get one someday" kind of wanting but the deeply painful, feel-it-in-your-gut, hate-on-other-pregnant-ladies kind of wanting, and most of that was done while I was recovering from a broken engagement.

It got harder when I actually found Simon and knew he would be the dad. And it got harder when we tried and lost. And harder still when we tried and failed and tried and failed and tried and failed again.

What I realize now is that the harder it got, the closer I was to the end of the wait. The same is true for you; every day, you're one step closer. And what I'm realizing more and more, as each week goes by, is that the baby I will eventually have will be THE baby I've been waiting for all this time, and that had I gotten pregnant earlier, or had I not miscarried the first one, THIS baby wouldn't exist. I know that when I meet him/her, I will be so glad that it all happened when it did because that's the only way it could have happened to get that particular little person.

I am always crossing my fingers for you guys.

[jonniker]

39.

HAAHAHA, Speidi. God. SPEIDI.

Sorry. HA. Can't help but be distracted by that one.

At any rate, I don't think --- I really don't think --- that anyone who hasn't been through this can really understand what it's like. And EVEN THEN, it's totally different for each person.

I do think marriages crumble under it, but I also tend to think that maybe those marriages NEED a baby to survive, you know? And while I know you want one -- I KNOW, believe me -- I think your marriage is one that doesn't NEED one, which is a good thing. A very good thing. And it means you'll hang in there, tough with the rest of us, until your time.

We'll get there. I, for one, am sort of sitting this month out, as I'm currently wearing scads of green mucus for an accessory. HOT.

xoxo

[Beth]

40.

Mwah. Wait, do I know you well enough to kiss you? Eh, screw it, mwah.

[Erin]

41.

Beautiful! While you may be a lucky woman, your husband is also a lucky man!

[DBN]

42.

What a great post. I need a lesson in patience myself.

(Also, have you found out anything about One Tree Hill? Who did he ask to Vegas!? I can never find anyone else that watches this show!)