One Of Those Posts Where I Talk About God

You know those people? The ones that say things like, “Why go through IVF when there are so many children that need homes?” and “Clearly it’s God’s will that you don’t have children, why don’t you just accept it?”

You know how we hate those people? Yeah? Well, I realized the other day that I am one of those people.

Infertility has shaken my spirituality and faith to the core. I found myself questioning everything. When I lost the boys, I didn’t lose my faith in God; I decided that God hated me (it’s kind of a reverse faith—there is a God, but he wants to make you suffer).

So I am spiritually adrift.

Before I lost the boys, my spirituality was this: basically, I believe that I am, at heart, a self-centered being and I need to constantly re-direct my thinking toward the greater good and away from myself and my wants and desires (this is pretty typical recovery stuff—alcoholics are supremely self-centered and need to learn to see the big picture). You could also say that the greater good is, in general, “God’s will.”

In addition, I believed that if I paid attention to the signs, I could pretty easily see what was God’s will and what was just me trying to get my own way. It’s sort of like canoeing on a river; if you don’t learn how to read the water—like knowing that a particular kind of soft ripple indicates a big ass rock right under the surface—you are going to flip the canoe and fall out. If you learn the signs, you can get soft nudges telling you what direction to go in.

But infertility muddied the water. I knew I didn’t cause our infertility; environmental factors played a major role in Charlie’s sperm issues (it’s possible his mother took DES). So therefore, using a medical solution to treat a medical problem made sense. So, in the early days, pursuing IUIs and then moving on to IVF felt like moving with the flow of the river. Especially when we got pregnant on our first IVF cycle.

But when we lost the boys, and I almost died, it was quite the spiritual dumping out of the canoe. I still hear in the back of my mind the woman that said “Maybe God kept Cecily from getting pregnant to prevent exactly this kind of tragedy!” In my heart, I agreed with her. In that moment of loss and grief, I decided I hadn’t been “going with the flow,” I’d been fighting the will of the river, fighting God’s will—forcing a solution—just so I could have what I wanted when I wanted it. That’s why the boys died.

The truth is, I have spent the last few months feeling certain that I have subverted God’s will, and that’s why God hates me. Charlie and I joke all the time that we’re cursed; we say things like, “Maybe next year we’ll have a baby too…oh right, if we weren’t cursed” or “the new house would look really cool if we… well, you know, if we weren’t cursed and someone actually bought this house.”

Oddly, my therapist doesn’t think it’s funny. She asked me why—since I’ve decided to choose my own concept of God—I’d pick a God that would treat me that way.

Good question.

The God that is in my head, and my heart, is more like a parent with a toddler. If your toddler falls down while learning to walk, you don’t just leave them lying on the ground weeping. You pick them up, dust off knees and kiss boo-boos. But you don’t stop them from falling.

There are Native American guides that give tours through the Grand Canyon. On one of those tours, the guide told his (white) tourists that it was flash flood season, and they needed to be prepared. “You’ll have no warning,” he said. “There will just suddenly be a wall of water. What you have to do is point your feet in the direction of the current and try to keep your head above water. But no matter what, DO NOT TRY TO SWIM. Swimming will kill you.” Sure enough, as they were hiking in the canyon, a flood came. Every single member of the group tried to swim, and they all drowned except the guide.

The truth is, I’m the one that’s turned away. I have refused the offers of help. I’ve returned to being entirely self-reliant and stubborn, and that is why I’m so fucking miserable. The hand is outstretched, but I’m insisting on standing up on my own—I no longer trust the outstretched hand since it let me fall. I’m trying to swim, but the current is too strong.

That has to change. I’m going to straighten out my legs, go with the current, and try to keep my head above water. I’m going to accept the outstretched hand, and the boo-boo kisses.

I’m not alone. It’s not all up to me.

Thank God.

 

Comments

[Mary]

It made me feel good to read this post. I believe in God--I'm not a bible thumper or a church attender, but I believe in God. Now, that said, I have not been through 10% of the crap that you've found your way out of, so it's easier for me to believe that God exists; still, it's nice to hear you giving God a chance again.

[sarah]

Beautiful.

I'm keeping my spiritual hand extended in your direction.

Sarah

[Kim]

Cecily-

It was a beautiful post today. The hand and arms are there to embrace you. We are here too.

Much Love,

[Jhondra]

I'm so happy for you. Some of the best things in my life have happened when I give up fighting and accept the outstreched hand (being a control freak, my natural urge is to be self-reliant and stubborn).

[Sarah]

You are so fabulous. You've blown me away yet again with your strength and wisdom and true grace.

I love you so much!

[Rachel]

What a thought-provoking post. I just finally stopped trying to swim about a problem I haven't known how to solve and suddenly these solutions...none of them completely perfect, but solutions...seem to be finding me.

It's about faith. You have to trust to let it happen. Good luck to you.

["Anne"]

I really enjoyed your post today. You brought up an issue I've wrestled with a lot also. I've dealt with quite a bit of medical crap lately (OK - over the last 7 years), and it does make you wonder WHY? Am I being punished? One Bible study I attended helped a lot when they said God sends difficult circumstances for 3 reasons: discipline (to which I said - screw that- tired of hearing it - let's jump to the next 2); Development(of your relationship with God) and Demonstration (of a spiritual manner of dealing with a lot of shit). I think you're a great example of the latter - demonstrating that you question Him and his reasons but know He/She must be there and has reasons.

It's NOT all up to you.

Good luck-
Anne www.tinykingdom.typepad.com

[Kate]

That was an amazing post. It really touched something inside me. I am a control-freak, and I guess I need to listen to the old saying, "let go, and let God." You are so strong, and I hope to be as strong someday.

[Kathleen]

I don't believe that suffering is God's will. Period. I believe that God is all loving but not all powerful. I believe that when we cry, God wants to comfort us. I believe that children dying, rape, abuse, the fact that my son was born here in health and privledge while other children are born into abject poverty and pain has nothing to do with God. I believe that God did not choose to bring my husband back from Iraq but let other's peoples loved ones die.

I don't pray for specific outcomes because I don't believe in that God. My God is love, not power.

I hope that you are able to either form a theology you can live peacefully with or are able to let go of the concept of God/Higher Power with peace.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts today. I feel privledged to have listened.

[Louise]

You picked an amazing metaphor. Since my diagnosis I've tried to teach myself to simply go with the current, and I've felt that sensation of drowning when I've tried to fight it. I have, I think, a very similar idea of God as you do. My problem now, I guess, is identifying when the water is moving and I need to let myself go with it, and when the water is still and I need to start kicking to keep myself afloat. It is hard to tell the difference sometimes, and I am not always sure I've read the water correctly. A swiftly moving river often looks still on the surface.

Thank you for this post.

[CursingMama]

Lovely post Cecily. Best Wishes.

[Anna]

What a beautiful essay -- thank you (as usual) for writing. Your therapist sounds wise and good. Hands and heart out to you.

[MollieBee]

You are never alone, God or no God. We all are here with you any time you need us.

[DMouse]

What a beautiful post, Cecily.

[KimK]

Thanks for sharing your post with us today. It was beautiful. You are amazing at putting your feelings into words. I pray blessings and peace heading your way.

[Ellen]

Thank you, Cecily, that was lovely, and somethign I needed to hear for myself, as well. God bless,
Ellen
(If it matters, I think that God is love and strength for the journey, not a free ride. One of my friends puts it this way, that God is not a superhero. Having God in your life doesn't mean that you don't have problems, because we live in a world of free will, where other people can choose to make wars or cause pollution, where our bodies will just plain fail: having God means being loved and held either way, completely, just as we are. And for me, knowing that makes everything else possible.)

[Julie]

Thank you for this post. It was beautiful.

[Melissa R.]

I'm so very very happy for you that you have come to this realization. This was a beautiful post and I look forward to reading more things like this from you in the future. Thank you for sharing this.

[Tara]

Thank you very much for writing this, Cecily. I feel very much the same way and, ironically, actually picked up my Bible and read from it this morning for the first time in a long time. I always hate when people say to me "God won't give you any more than you can handle" because I just don't think that's true. I think He frequently gives us more than we can handle so we learn to depend on Him and not just ourselves. If we could handle everything he threw at us, what is He there for?

[Bella]

That was beautiful!

Through all I've been through, my faith hasn't been shaken. Usually, through the tears, I'm shouting, "Why does He hate me so much?" When I am calmer I think either He loves me so much, to be giving me such personalized not just bad, but perfectly bad attention, or He hates me. Either way, he's there. It all seems to deliberate to be random.

Anyway, thanks for commenting about this.

[whitney]

Lurker delurking here.......

I check your blog every week or so and lately I've been hitting the days where you discuss your ever-changing relationship with God. I am so enjoying reading your thoughts...while I haven't been through anywhere near the crap you have, it's been a horrible few months for me but I truly believe that without a belief in God I wouldn't have gotten through it. Your post today made that belief even stronger for me, and for that I thank you!! Just what I needed, especially today. So maybe God put you in my path today.

[RainbowW]

i came to the conclusion some years ago that the reason i was sexually assaulted as a child was so that i could later sponsor someone who was savagely sexually assaulted as a child.

maybe all of this is an exercise for later?

[RainbowW]

by the way, the person i sponsored remains my best friend today; she was best man at my wedding (after she turned me down). that relationship remains the most rewarding of any i've ever had, with only the possible exception of my wife. :)

[Sam]

Very beautifully expressed. Thank you for sharing this with us.

[Kathleen]

God gives us more than we can handle so we can learn to depend on God? Is that what was going on in the Rwanda genocide? The ravaging of Africa by AIDS? Forced prostition of children? My neighbor being tourtured, raped and killed a few weeks ago?

I simply do not understand what is comforting about the idea that God had anything to do with planning or allowing those events. Or that God wanted to us "learn" something by allowing such horrific suffering. Can someone explain it to me?

This thread this bringing up another question...why refer to God as male?