The Power of "And"

Signed, sealed and delivered.  The letter was sent.  Time was ticking.  As each day ended and another began, I felt the bubbling of anxiety well up from within.  I trusted that I would hear from him, though each additional day was a test of faith.  Four days later, on the last day of school, came the reply.  Before even opening the email, a wealth of relief washed over me, my eyes closed in prayers of gratitude and small tears of joy trickled down my face.

I was elated and I hadn't even read the response.  I had no idea what his answer was.  And it really didn't matter.  He replied.  That was what mattered.  In my heart, I had let go, surrendered and trusted that I would hear from him.  I knew that he wouldn't brush me off or ignore me.  It was so gratifying then, to see his name in my inbox.  Having placed so much trust in a mere belief, and to have before my eyes, proof of that belief come true, was rewarding in itself.             

I clicked on the email and read.  I cautioned myself to read slowly, word for word, and to not jump ahead.  He first apologized for taking longer than he had wished to respond.  He was caught up in work and wanted to have an uninterrupted moment to talk.  He preferred to talk on the phone (what a gentleman), and mentioned that he had read my blog and thought it was "great."  His tone was sincere and gentle.  I couldn't have asked for more...well except for perhaps, "Yes, yes, yes! I'll be your donor!" strewn across the page!

A few days later his named graced my telephone, and again the overwhelming sensation of gratitude weighed upon my heart.  "Surprise!"  Was all I could think to say to start the conversation.  Small talk seemed rather silly when something so dramatic loomed across the radio waves.  I gave him the floor and listened.

The discussion that commenced was the most intimate, touching and heartfelt conversation we've had to date.  He admired my decision to become a mother, acknowledged by courage in asking him to become my donor and admitted he was flattered by the proposal...and that his answer was, "no."  

"No."  There it was.  Said and done.  Oddly, I was not devastated.  I didn't even need to pretend for the rest of the phone call that I was happy-go-lucky.  I didn't need to pretend because I was really, really, ok with the answer.  Really.  I knew before taking this leap of faith that it was a long shot.  I knew that "no" was a possibility.  And, I was truly, ok.

I think what made the whole situation "ok" was that I had already reaped the benefits and felt the reward.  By writing this letter and pulling the gutsiest move of my lifetime, I could not have been more proud of myself.  I've given myself the beautiful gift of trust, surrender and unconditional love.  I don't think I've ever loved myself more than I do today.  I opened myself up to a far-fetched opportunity, defeated the doubts and negative thoughts in my mind and worked my damnedest to give myself something big, huge, monumental.  I did all this because I know I am worthy.  I deserve big, huge and monumental.  

We spoke for just under an hour.  We were honest, impeccable and trusting.  He listened as I told him in detail, the story of deciding to become a mother, meeting him, and questioning whether to tell him.  I confessed my fears of not seeing him again, had I told him my truth.  I explained the events that led me to finally share my truth and ask him to become my donor.

He reciprocated by listening intently, asking thoughtful questions, and responding earnestly.  He understood why I needed to ask, commended me on my decision to do so and even helped me to work through some of my next step dilemmas.  The conversation was a beautiful potpourri of truth, compassion, love and laughter.  I felt closer to him and the thoughts I carried of him, that he was a sincere, loving person, were instantly validated.    

After all was said and done, I had to ask yet another candid question.  (I mean really, I just asked the man to be my sperm donor, is there anything I can't ask him???)  I needed to put my final fear to rest.  I needed to know if he still wanted to see me, knowing now that I was actively trying to get pregnant.

"Are you crazy woman?  Of course I still want to see you!"  was the response. 

Long sigh, eyes closed, deep breathes.  I had a moment.  I could have died.  Everything was falling into place. 

When I mentioned in my last blog that this fine gentleman could not have picked a more inconvenient time to enter my life, I was sorely wrong.  Hindsight is 20/20.  Knowing what I know now, I realize he couldn't have come at a more fitting and appropriate time in my life.  He was just what I needed.  He has been a teacher to me in ways that I'm sure he doesn't realize and in ways that I'm still learning myself.         

So, he wasn't sent to me to serve as my donor.  Still, he was sent to me at a significantly transitionary time in my life.  A part of my life in which I had "given up" on men and love.  I looked the other way in order to focus on giving myself what I once thought only loving a man could give me - a baby.  He helped me to understand that I could have both.  The power of "and."  I could date, flirt, indulge and revel in the affections of a man while at the same time, seeking my passion to become a mother.  I can have my cake and eat it too.

This was a powerful lesson.  And there were more lessons to follow.  In fact, the day after our phone call, yet another lesson revealed itself...