In my very first post for Springs in the Desert back in 2022, I wrote about the lies we tend to believe about ourselves and our experience of infertility. After walking the path for four more years, I would like to expand on that theme a bit with my deepened experience. 

One of the lies those of us carrying the cross of infertility often believe is regarding acceptance. We often start to think of acceptance as equal to, that it is the same thing as, giving up. It is not!

What I’ve come to understand is that acceptance is actually recognizing our reality with humility and clarity, and then making peace with that reality. By making peace, I mean trying not to fight it or struggle against it, making decisions that acknowledge that reality (turning the  “nursery” into a home office, for example) and are consistent with that reality, and working towards a gradual lessening – not a sudden or complete absence of – grief.  

This takes work to reach. That work involves patience with oneself and others, setting personal boundaries around our thoughts, and a mindfulness in our decision-making. 

What it does not involve is pretending our feelings do not exist, viewing life through this particular lens forever (though the habits acquired are useful in other areas of life, I find,) or saying, like the fox in Aesop’s fable, that those grapes were sour anyway. We do not pretend we never wanted children, we do not pretend life is better without mini-me’s running around, or any other lies that deny reality or the beauty of God’s plan for us or others. 

What this work does is bring us to a point where we can see and acknowledge the beauty of the individual plan God has for us. By accepting humbly yet with certainty the truth that the plan God has for us is unique and individually suited to us in particular, we will find the joy that acceptance brings. 

Giving up, on the other hand, brings grief, sadness, and a sense of loss. Giving up may sometimes be a step in the work of acceptance,  but it is not the end of the work. When I do yarn crafting, I sometimes have to unwind a ball of yarn and rewind it differently in order to use it. The same concept applies here – sometimes we have to go through the grief and sadness to find the joy available through really accepting the loss. 

Acceptance brings joy. Not holiday metallic laminated cardboard decoration joy, not jump up and down joy – real joy. The interior sense of knowing this is where I belong.  All is right with this particular chaos that is my life. The word acceptance itself implies receiving something. To receive requires being receptive. That’s the kernel at the heart of the work. 

It’s difficult to receive in the midst of struggling. It’s difficult to receive when we don’t trust the giver of what we’re getting.  This is where boundaries and the Catholic practice of guarding our thoughts comes in. And it is here that acceptance can most noticeably require work.

Doing that work brings joy – distinct from happiness, which is more of a chemical or hormonal state – joy is the certainty that all is as it should be. Happiness is fleeting,  joy endures. 

God, of course, is the Giver of all good things. It took me some work to believe that with everything in me, though. That work started with mindfully,  consciously remembering everything I requested from Him, and then mindfully, consciously noticing when I received them. This built trust. I prayed the Our Father. Did I receive what I needed for the day? Not what I wanted – what I needed. Food. Shelter. The Holy Spirit giving me the breath of  life. The Eucharist, if I attended Mass. I made a point of noticing these things,  and I wrote them down. I prayed to learn to see the good things in my life. A long time later, that prayer was answered. I’d forgotten the prayer; God had not.

In the same notebook, I record other things I’m grateful for. Sunshine, rain for my garden, nice things my husband does for me. My therapist of seven  years suggested the practice so I’d be more aware of the good in my life. It’s so easy to see the negative! Those are in bold print and shocking colors. The good, the pleasant, the joyful are often more numerous, but in finer print and subtle colors. Like four leaf clovers, it’s worth the effort to search for them. Once in that habit, they’re likely to become hard to miss.  How wonderful that would be!

The prayer journaling was actually an outgrowth of the therapy homework, which has really helped me a lot! I mark the answered prayers with an asterisk (*) now, so they stand out. 

Accepting what we have endured doesn’t equate to saying we’re glad these things happened to us. Far from it! It is acknowledging our realities, and that how we think of them and feel about them are valid. What we do with those thoughts and feelings may not be desirable, but feelings themselves are data – information – and therefore not any more right or wrong than our perception of color. This is why I say acceptance is not equal to giving up. I’ve accepted a lot of things, good and bad, and the cessation of struggling against the reality of past truths has been liberating. It freed up my energy and strength to move in more fruitful directions. 

Now I notice the sunshine, thank the Giver, and bask in the rays of warmth from both, enjoying the comfort.  May you be blessed with seeing the quiet joys that abound in your own daily existence!

Delsonora lives in Central Ohio and has been married to the best husband a woman could want for over a quarter century. She has a disability and was adopted as an infant. Delsonora loves pets, crafting, and food, and she thinks that coincidence is often a “divine hint”. Catholic from conception, she’s convinced that the faith is why, despite the prevalence of other options, she was able to be born.