I haven’t written much this week because life got in the way. I was at work last week and got a call from my doctor about some test results Trever and I were waiting for because we haven’t been able to get pregnant. The nurse said “unfortunately” and described why there is a good chance we won’t be able to have children. My hearing got foggy and the 'unfortunately' just kept bouncing around my mind like I was in an empty cathedral. I sat on the stairs and looked straight ahead responding to her descriptions and details without any form of consciousness, I started taking small short breaths as all the future I would never have started playing through my mind with vivid clarity. I called Trever and handed over the immense weight of grief and we both started heading home because we couldn’t think.
We met downstairs and sobbed together over the loss of a dream. We had to start accepting that I might never be pregnant, we might never get that hospital delivery room experience, we might never hold a newborn baby in our arms and fawn over her eyes that look just like her fathers. I cried in a way I don’t think I’ve ever cried before, I slept the day away and every time I took a breath fate kicked me in the gut with its reality. I stared at Trever and wished I could take it away, it’s a weird thing grieving with someone, the same pain, the same anxiety, saying nothing but together in everything. We lay in bed and cried together, the comforter and the comforted we both were.
We found out right after my last meeting with Rabbi Yehoshua and I haven’t read the Bible this week, I haven’t read through my guided prayers and I haven’t done anything in my process. Somehow though, I’ve never recognized God more. I still don’t really know who God is but I related to Him. I asked Him to hear me if He could, I asked Him to heal us if He could, I asked Him to be near if He would, I asked Him why if He answers and I sobbed in the cosmic silence. I suddenly had this great hope that God is who I thought He was when I was young, the God of the Christian church who cares deeply about my heartbreak, the God who is good, close to us and grieves with us. I was desperate for Him and whether it was a figment of my imagination or the presence of a good God I can’t say, all I know is I felt Him near.
I realized I may not be doing this whole belief finding thing from a place of standing within the faith like I thought I was. I figured praying through my guided prayer and gaining perspective was faith when really it was just reading. Maybe I’m arguing it like any other academic question, adding together concepts and possibilities subtracting as much fallibility as I can, mixing in literature and experts and I’m trying to formulate God from humanity’s mind, trying to understand a God who breathed life into the very minds trying so desperately to outline him.
Am I being a fool because I want Him to be my comforter and my mind will believe what it needs to survive? Maybe, or maybe in moments where the brokenness of our reality thins out the lining and exposes our lack of control those are the moments when we really see God. The façade of a composed and happy western life falls away and He’s there as He’s always been.
I don’t know if God is a comforter but I was comforted. I don’t know if He listens but I cried out. I don’t know if He heals but I asked and hoped fiercely that He is what we all gravely need Him to be, our only hope.
*I wrote this a couple of months ago and there has been some positive progress since, more to come.