There's a philosophy that has gotten me through the hell fires of infertility thus far. I've used it since the beginning, when we began to realize that parenthood was a longer shot than we anticipated. It's not a perfect concept, I'll admit, but it works for me and it is simply this: what's meant to be will be.
It seems it may be bordering on religious but I tend to think of it as spiritual, this idea that all of the cells and circumstances in this universe are not mere coincidence, that there is some form of unseen magic behind it all, thus a meaning and a plan. In regards to infertility, I always felt that whoever was meant to join us would come in their own way and on their own timeline. And he did.
Had any of the other cycles before my son worked, the truth is, the child wouldn't have been the one who is in my life now. So G--he was meant to be. And infertility, that was meant to be. Lately, this has helped me handle the fact that we are in a waiting pattern with cycling. My philosophy has allowed me to believe that this waiting is not all for naught, that I am merely preparing for the one who belongs in the picture, but I just don't know yet how or when that will be. Or perhaps another will never join us and that will be the plan, but we'll find a way to a life that is meant to be. The unknowns are the hardest, but this way of seeing the world makes it more bearable.
But then in writing this, I stopped myself and let it sit for a week or so because it was too flawed, this way of thinking. Where this becomes an imperfect concept is understanding that it wouldn't have been helpful in an alternate universe. Nothing truly horrific has happened to me (and I mean truly horrific-I don't need to go into details-let your mind wander). I've lost people, and yes, earlier than most my age, but it was in the normal order of the universe. Parents before kids. And with family building, although stalled by many more years than I would have liked, for all intents and purposes, my dreams came true. The philosophy worked for me in the end, but what if it hadn't? Would I still be able to hang my hat on it? That what's meant to be will be?
I've been grappling with that lately. Am I deluding myself in thinking that the way the world moves forward for me is kismet when there are others who haven't been as lucky? What makes me any more deserving of a plan that is fortunate?
Or--is it not the wind, but how you adjust your sails that I need to look at? Perhaps it is this philosophy alone and not particular circumstances that make a person blessed. There are people who do have truly horrific things happen and they find a way to live on and it is their perception alone that carries them. And, of course, there is the vice-versa version where people who have what would generally be perceived as fortunate circumstances bemoan their existence.
I don't know. For now, I still must believe that everything big or small, losing someone, leaving the house at a certain time, is meant to happen and serves as the stepping stone for the next event and then the next, and so on. Despite it's flaws, I feel I have no other choice but to consciously embrace this philosophy of destiny because sometimes, and especially with infertility, it's one of the only things driving me forward.
