You just might find you get what you need.

I recently read this article about women and/or couples who, after spending thousands of dollars and years of their lives on fertility treatments, find themselves pregnant at last...with twins.  But because they were not wanting twins they undergo yet more medical interventions to reduce the pregnancy to a single baby. 

Of all the responses this article elicited in me the strongest was in the reasons many of these women gave.  They said, essentially "it is important for me to be a good mother; to provide my children with enough attention, financial stability, patience, experiences, etc and I already have a five year old - I don't think I could stay sane and be a good mother if I had twins right now." 

This hit me so hard because this is right where I am.  Both my sanity and my "Good Mother" card are in jeopardy every minute these days. I am the sort of person who likes control, structure, plans - but every moment of my day, every meal that I eat, every night that I (don't) sleep is filled with chaos, interruptions and noise.  Nothing goes smoothly.  Patience has long run out.  Standards and hopes such as "being a good mother" or "giving my children values, educational experiences, and coping techniques" have been replaced by one lofty imperative - survive.

I am also reading an amazing book about Martha Beck who, while she and her husband were working on their fifth and sixth collective Harvard degrees, discovered that the child she carried had Down's syndrome.  Even before her diagnosis she was hardly surviving the severe symptoms of her pregnancy, relying for the first time in her life on the grace and acceptance of generous souls who saw her need and met her where she was.  After the diagnosis she encountered nearly unanimous pressure to terminate; yet though she was staunchly pro-choice she carried her baby and is caring for him still.  She said:

my entire life hinged on knowing that there were people who would continue to love me unconditionally, even if I were damaged, even if I were sick.  Such love was the only thing that had sustained me during the turmoil of the past months. If I eliminated my child because of his disability, if I put him out of my life, I would be violating the only thing that was keeping me alive. I"d be ripping the rug out from under my own feet.

In her gripping and compelling story Martha's idea of good life and success is shattered and replaced by  something much, much better.  Over-achieving, workaholic, control freaks that she and her husband were, they learned to live and value in an entirely different way - because of, and through, and by, love.  Love not because of achievement or worth, but because of love itself. Love brought them this not-perfect situation that they deemed a tragedy, and love showed them that it was instead a blessing, a gift, an opportunity for them more priceless than all those thing the world had taught them to want.

I think this lesson is so often taught us by our children because it is the lesson of life itself. For me, it has been the biggest, most pronounced lesson of pregnancy, labor, delivery, sleepless night, and parenting in general - there is something in surrender, in acceptance, that creates life and beauty and joy.  There are my plans, and then there is life. Life is often much, much more painful than my plans were, but resistance brings yet more pain, while surrender can bring joy as vivid as the sorrow. No amount of working and planning can make life into what we want it to be, and neither can it bring us love. Love and joy, which are always there waiting for us, come into focus by contentment and surrender.

But how can we know this if we live our lives with our fists clenched?  Either we must open our hands or, eventually, they will be pried open.  We will eventually be broken, but we can also be healed. Things will not go as we plan. Chaos will come, disappointment will come. And if we are willing to meet suffering and chaos and disappointment with our eyes and heart open these things can bring us to a place more beautiful than anything we had the perspective or imagination to plan.

I am (unsuccessfully) trying to teach my 5 month old daughter to sleep longer than two hours stretches at night. While she cries to get up and I thwart her desires to nudge her towards the sleep she needs I often find myself singing to her:

You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you just might find you get what you need.

This post was inspired by the book Expecting Adam, by Martha Beck. I was given a copy of this book as part of From Left to Write. Read other posts inspired by Expecting Adam on Thursday, November 10, at From Left to Write. We'll also be chatting live with Martha Beck at 1PM Eastern on November 10 on From Left to Write.