(Un)expecting

I like words. I like manipulating them. I like studying them. I like marveling at them.

And so I had to laugh to myself when I considered a brief stream-of-consciousness moment the other day that ended with a word that is, you might say, pregnant with meaning.  You see, I am staring down the barrel of a deadline – a self-inflicted deadline – my 29th birthday.

I haven’t really thought about it much this past year, strangely enough.  My life has been turned upside down since February, and my five-year plan of 24 months ago really doesn’t hold much legitimacy anymore. But I’m getting ahead of myself.  The deadline. I long ago decided that I should not be any older than 28 by the time I have my first child. 

It sounds completely silly, I know, especially standing where I am now. And that’s part of what induced that cynical chuckle a few days ago. A few months ago, I would have been quite depressed at yet another reminder that I am still fighting this battle, but my point-of-view evolves so rapidly these days.  So I decided I needed to explore the idea of arbitrary expectations in relation to becoming a parent.

Expecting. How fitting this word has become a stand-in for the state of being pregnant. Maybe I should title the blog post “Great Expectations.” But that’s too cliché. “Expecting”? Now there would be an amusing linguistics experiment – how many readers would see that word and assume I was announcing the long-awaited achievement? No, I’ve lived with too many expectations (I’m sensing a theme) about this journey for too long.  I want the title of this post to reflect my end goal in writing it – to break free from these ideas of what should be, what should happen, what check marks are required in order to be what I should be.  (There, now you’ve gotten a glimpse into the inner-workings of my mind.  You lucky ducks.)

So there it is. 

Expecting:
1) Expect – believe strongly; anticipate
2) Pregnant – carrying; expectant; in a family way; with child
3) Abide – stop temporarily and wait for
4) Assume – believe; take for granted
5) Believe – assume or suppose
6) Conceive (no, not that kind of conceive) – understand

These are the first six synonyms for “expecting” from Roget’s online thesaurus.  There are 47, by the way. I was curious where the pregnancy definition would fall, so I casually looked it up. But as I started to peruse further, I realized my blog entry was about to write itself. I have experienced a progression of the definition of each of these along the path of infertility. If I had looked at this list several years ago, these words would have meant nothing more to me than their face value.  What a magical thing perspective is.

So here it is. The more complete version of these definitions that I have learned and now know by heart.

1) Expect – believe strongly; anticipate. This is a multifunctional definition because, at first, I anticipated a very easy fix.  Why not? Modern medicine is a marvel. Expectation = shattered. What I’ve learned is life doesn’t revolve around easy fixes (color me sheltered and privileged). But I now believe strongly in the power of taking what comes and attacking with every tool available, even if those tools are not what I expected them to be.

2) Pregnant – carrying; expectant; in a family way; with child. Well…really. How should I tackle this one? Let me count the ways. Here’s the deal: Becoming pregnant is not the be all and end all.  It is a fragile, random phenomenon that doesn’t care about your expectation that pregnancy will result in a family way. My clock started ticking years ago, and I have been with child mentally and emotionally since then. “Expecting” a child does not have to mean that pregnancy is required. Just ask any childless parent if they are expecting.  We are carrying that child with us long before that first heartbeat is detected.

3) Abide – stop temporarily and wait for. I was impatient two years ago, expecting instant gratification, when I stopped taking birth control and started taking ovulation tests. I was impatient when I visited my OB/GYN and attempted five months of Clomid. I was impatient when I put my faith in Miracle Metformin. And I was impatient when I expected one round of hormone therapy would make my dream come true. I have abided the disappointment inherent in impatience, and I now look forward knowing that life doesn’t accept five-year plans and that temporary can feel permanent from the inside out, but the wait just might make the waited for that much sweeter in the end.

4) Assume – believe; take for granted. You know what they say about those who assume, right? I have been humbled by the intricacies involved with the miracle of life. And I have been beaten down by my delusions of being in control. The day-to-day is one thing, but I did not – could not – understand how small and powerless we humans truly are. One would expect such an epiphany to crumble one’s confidence. But I now understand that it is completely unfair to expect we can take on the responsibility of such a thing as creating life onto our frail, mortal shoulders. It is unfair and it is also arrogant. So many people take for granted the miracle of regular ovulation, of conception, of a viable and then a healthy pregnancy, of birth and the blessing of a child. I not only believe, I know I will not take any of that for granted ever again.

5) Believe – assume or suppose. See Number 4. And add my deep belief that parents can be made in a number of ways, and families can come in all shapes and sizes if true love and humility lie at the heart. And my belief that my child is patiently waiting to join our family.

6) Conceive – understand. What I understand today – all of what I have written in this post and throughout my brief history as a blogger, plus everything unspoken – I never conceived of two years ago. And I am pretty sure it would be impossible to conceive of what this journey is – what it means, what it feels like, how it shapes a person and a couple – without going through it. I never knew I could withstand such pain - a pain that will never truly go away.  The wound may scar over, but that scar remains as a reminder of all I've learned and all I cannot conceive of that is coming my way and that is still yet to learn. I also never understood what a beautiful camaraderie and silver lining could come out of the most difficult experience of my life to date.  (Little known irony as a side note to 5 & 6: My husband and I wear matching lime green advocacy bracelets for infertility awareness.  They read “Believe – Conceive.” Visit www.momatlast.com to get yours today!)

So the lesson from all this, I suppose, is expecting can take many forms, including but not exclusive to the “What to Expect...” variety. The greatest lesson I’ve learned is not to expect anything when it comes to this journey. Doing so has brought me great disappointments and pleasant (you heard me right) surprises, but never the results I anticipated.

And so it is ironic and fitting that an expectation I placed on myself years ago would come back to me on the figurative eve of my 29th birthday and help me realize I’ve reached a turning-point at which I must articulate one more expectation.  But I think I’ll call it something different this time. Let it instead be an aspiration (Roget’s: “goal; hope”). Out of fairness to myself and the millions of to-be families, I give up all expectations surrounding my ideas of “family building.” Instead I will dare to hope but also attempt to keep my mind open and uncluttered by the details along the way to my goal.

So bring on Year 29.  I expect it will be full of the unexpected.