Neither this post, nor any part of my life, nor any sane portion of the known or unknown world has anything whatsoever to do with Michael Jackson, and I fervently hope that his estate is in some sort of perpetual infringement of copyright due to the similarity.
The chapters...well, they just didn't have nearly enough. The author went through post-giving-up options: donor gametes, adoption, foster care, living "childfree" (I've always disliked that term. Like "disease-free" or "pest-free" or something - as if they were a pestilence that had been successfully exterminated from the marriage. It gives no voice at all to the truth of my experience, nor, I think, to the truth of human nature).
But if rationally were enough, I wouldn't still be angry. Today's Epistle included the famous I Corinthians 13 - "love is patient, love is kind." In the translation at Mass (not my favorite, but in a century or two the bishops will probably discover that there are better ones), "Love does not brood over injury." I don't know whom in the IF process I'm supposed to love specifically, but I brood over injury as if it were my job. In fact - and St. Paul doesn't appear to have contemplated this specifically - I'm not that bad about brooding over injuries that have actually occurred. But I spend an inordinate amount of time brooding over injuries that have happened in a scenario in my head. (I would guess that this also falls under the ban.) So, I need to work on the behavior. But, always more interesting than mere misbehavior, there has got to be a reason. Why do I feel my more-or-less predictable life is so far out of my control that I have to pick great horrible epic fights - usually with people I'm fond of - in my head over slights that have never occurred?
If I may recognize the tragedy, without committing a spiritual error, what am I to do with God? Is this the time to remember that free will and the Fall lead to all sorts of unhappiness in the earthly life, which God has allowed to happen that we might choose to love Him, and I should not assume that my suffering is something He willed or created? Or is this a good occasion to complain at Him that it's absolutely no fair designing someone for the vocation to marriage when You know perfectly well that I'm biologically incapable of having children with my husband, and if You're just going to let that happen and then play the "free will" card, You darn well better prepare something else for me to do with myself - and give me a clue what it is? Or should I assume design in all these things - God intended specifically that I be childless, either to punish me, or to designate me as a carrier of crosses all my days, or because He has some other plan that is wholly incompatible with motherhood (but He's not telling)? And which reason would be the best guess? Or do I assume (as my husband does) that God is disinterested in my suffering, and that this life will therefore be unhappy and wretched, and my prayers for rescue or peace will fall always on deaf ears?
Somehow, it doesn't seem that easy, the way I'm doing it.