of joy and sorrow

Have you ever read the book "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran? It's one of my favorites, in that it carries such simple, eloquent wisdom. If you haven't had a chance to acquaint yourself with it, I highly recommend you go get yourself a copy.

My first experience with this book came on our wedding day. Some very dear and wise friends of ours, a couple around my parents' age, had given it to us as part of our wedding gift.

Now, I'm an avid reader. I'm constantly reading, and often more than one - or two - things at a time. Books, magazines, poetry, all manner of things. It was inevitable that I would read this book sooner rather than later.

And when I did, I fell in love. Hard and fast.

While I haven't read it cover to cover in quite a while, I often find myself reaching for it when I'm struggling with something in my life. Surprisingly enough, it only occurred to me late last night to consult "The Prophet" again to seek some wisdom to help me cope with how I'm feeling right now about where we're at in our fertility treatments.

Of course, I found what I needed within its well-worn pages.

The part that comforted my heart and soul was in the pages about joy and sorrow in our lives. Here is an excerpt:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

It was like being struck by lightening, the truth of those words. All I had to recall was the utter despair and sadness I felt after four years of trying for a second baby and then the unmatchable, complete, absolute joy I felt when at last I heard the words "congratulations, you're pregnant" back in April.

Of course I was thrilled when I found out I was pregnant with Super Boy. I wanted him so much, with all my heart -- but he came so easily to me. We tried only three months for him. It was as though "of course I'm pregnant!" Only now, after struggling for so many years through so many dark moments do I realize just how truly lucky and blessed and fortunate we are that we conceived Super Boy at all, much less in three months. To hear that I was at last pregnant again, my joy was greater than ever before -- because my sadness has been greater than ever before.

On another note, for the longest time, I considered my infertility to be the glitch -- but what if the glitch was that I ever got pregnant with Super Boy? What if my body was meant to be barren, but by the grace of God I somehow got pregnant with Super Boy?

Here is another excerpt that hit home for me:

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Again: nothing can sum up how I feel better than this. When it comes to wanting another baby, and having the beautiful child I was so gratefully blessed with, my sorrow and my joy are inseparable. They are one and the same. What I want more than anything in the world has already given me unbelievable joy -- and unbelievable sorrow.

Dwelling on one is also dwelling on the other.

As I lay in bed after reading that, for the first time in a very long time, my soul felt calm. My mind felt quieted.

Reading that, and reacting to it in that way, makes me feel like I WILL survive this, no matter how the story ends. Because even if I will never hold another of my own newborn babies in my arms again, I've held my newborn baby in my arms, and I treasured that experience, and I know just how lucky and blessed I am to be a mother to him.

I send peace and light and love to all who are going through this struggle, too.