Today’s post is for those who heard
the news today, oh boy. That they will be having neither a girl nor a boy — at least not yet.
I’m reading Pattie Boyd’s memoir, “Wonderful Tonight,
George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and me,” and just got to the part where she’s going through IVF in the early ‘80s.
She notes the “indignities” of IVF and the pain
of being the party at whom “the finger of inadequacy” points. Perhaps most evocatively, she shares:
“Each time I got as far as having an embryo implanted, I
would be full of excitement and optimism, convinced that a new life was growing inside me. Then I had to face up to the fact
that it had failed.”
least she said, “it had failed.” I know that in my case, it always felt like I had failed. Not my husband, not
the doctors or nurses, certainly not the embryo. Me. I had failed.
Over and over again.
And then like magic,
I triumphed. Adoption adoption adoption. Salvation salvation salvation.
That was my answer. I’m not so presumptuous as to insist it’s yours. Just know that there will be an
answer. The indignities are relatively fleeting, enduring them evidence of courage and determination.
The inadequacies are artificial and temporal. Our mistake is not in
trying. There is no failure. Only disappointment.
is nothing but a well we can fill with hope. Fill your well. Be well. Move forward with dignity and strength. Trust your worthiness.
All will be well. With hope.