I’m trying to unveil the mystery of my soul, and I’m not sure I like what I’m seeing.
Let me step back. I’m doing a new bible study with a group of women from the community. The study is Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman’s Soul by John and Stasi Eldredge. We’re only a week in, so if you would still like to join up you are welcome to do so.
I already got kicked in the gut by this study though, and it’s only the first week. It made me confront some issues I’m not sure I was prepared to confront. Some things I'm ashamed to admit.
One of the questions asked was when you last felt alive as a woman. All I could think was “I’m not sure I even know what that means, but I’ll bet I feel it when I have a baby.”
And there it is. In black and white. Right now, I have my womanhood dependent upon my ability to birth a child.
Can we just step back for a second and acknowledge that those feelings are real? I’m not saying I should feel that way, or that anyone else in my shoes should feel that way, but – I don’t want to have to deny that I feel it either. There is a voice in my head that has already told me I am less of a woman because I can’t do this on my own; because I will never do this on my own. A voice that says that if I can’t do this at all, I might as well hand my membership card to the ladies club back in.
I'm not even sure where this ladies club is, but I'm pretty sure they are reviewing my application thoroughly lately; just waiting for a reason to revoke my privileges.
That voice in my head has especially been mocking me the last few days and telling me that no matter when Mr. Right comes along, I will not likely be able to give him a biological child. By the time he comes into my life, chances are my ovaries are going to be gone and quite possibly my uterus too. I never thought I cared so much about genes and blood, but when I think about that future husband who I won’t be able to produce a bio baby for; my heart hurts a little.
I know everyone is itching to type comments away right now telling me not to base my womanhood on my ability to produce and carry a child, but can we just be honest for a second and admit that most of us do? Sure, there are women who are childless by choice and I fully respect them and that choice. There are also women who go straight to adoption without even contemplating fertility treatments, and I also hold all kinds of admiration and respect for them. But for many of us, childbirth is the crux of womanhood; isn’t it?
My biggest fear going into both of my surgeries was waking up and being told I had needed a hysterectomy. The first words out of my mouth both times were "Am I empty?" And I cried when the answer was "no". Deep sobs. I was not prepared to lose those parts of myself, and it was only upon hearing "no" both times that I was able to acknowledge that fear of my loss of womanhood.
I’m not alone in this; am I?
When you think about this on a strictly biological level, one of the things that sets us apart from men is the fact that we can carry children. Recently I asked a group of women what their greatest achievement was and many of them had responses that fell along the lines of childbirth. It is very easy for a fertile woman to look at an infertile woman and say “you shouldn’t feel that way”, but I think if we are being 100% honest; it’s not an unnatural feeling.
I feel like less of a woman. I’m not going to pretend like that’s not true. Let’s forget about that little testosterone issue, or the fact that my hair is still coming out in clumps (seriously – I went to run my fingers through my hair today while I was talking to my boss and a giant chunk came out. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m dying.) When I remember that the only way I will ever achieve a pregnancy is through massive amounts of intervention, I get kind of sad.
And so this week I was focusing on what it means to be a true woman; to be alive as a woman. I was trying to figure out what it is that God wants from me as a woman specifically. Is it to persevere? To stand strong? To make lemonade out of life’s lemons?
To nurture?
I am a nurturer at heart, and it is possible that God’s plan for me as a woman goes so far beyond bearing a child. It is possible that he wants me to Nurture many children. It is possible that he has been preparing my heart for the disappointment of failure so that I can further open it up to adoption.
I’m terrified of that possibility and I will pray with everything in me that God grants me at least one pregnancy. But if I don’t get that, will I be able to move past it? Will I be able to embrace my womanhood despite my bareness?
I honestly don’t know. Is it OK to not know? To not know if I will still be able to feel like a woman if I can’t carry a child?
God has been working on patience in my heart lately. I think He knows that I want to know the plan, and He is trying to teach me that it isn’t mine to know. No matter what happens I believe that the plan God has for me is better than anything I can imagine. I believe He will get me through whatever comes next; whether that be the trials of single motherhood or the defeat of a failed cycle. I believe He has a plan for me, and I just need to stop trying to control every minor detail right now. I need to let it go and to let Him take the reins.
My first step is choosing a donor. I think I know who I’ve chosen. I want to give it a few days to really sink in, but I think I’ve stopped trying to overanalyze every minor detail of those men. I think I’ve realized that it doesn’t really matter who I choose because I will love that resulting baby no matter what. It dawned on me today that I was making this decision far more difficult than it had to be, and that by letting up on my need to control; the entire decision suddenly became simple.
I got an e-mail today from an old friend. She was telling me about something going on in her life, and I had to stop and re-read what she wrote because I could have written it myself. She wrote:
I know for me it’s all about the fear of the unknown… I guess that just amounts to lack of faith... I have to remember that in all things big and small God is in control and won’t fail me. That’s so hard for me to get sometimes because of my situation growing up. I have always had to depend on myself and I was always the caretaker in my home growing up...its hard as an adult to relinquish control...I guess it’s a work in progress. He's still working on me.
He’s still working on me too. And I think that is what God is trying to teach me with my life right now. That I can’t control it all. That it’s possible I can’t control any of it. But if I relinquish control and stop resisting, I might discover something better than I could have even imagined.
I might just figure out how to be a woman in Gods eyes; if not in my own.
ADSPACE
