I don’t pray. I stopped praying a number of years ago for a couple of reasons. For one, I’m not a practicing Catholic. I was brought up in the church, my parents go pretty much every Sunday, and a majority of the older generation on both sides of my family are still active with, and in the religion. I, on the other hand, stopped practicing Catholicism when I was in high school. It was at this point in my life when I started to stop praying. I figured, if I’m not really in it to win it with this religion, I should probably leave God alone and stop bugging him/her/they with my problems.
I also stopped praying because I thought it wasn’t fair to only pray if I was in trouble. I know people that only pray when they are in trouble, and I find it obnoxious. The way I look at it, one’s relationship with God (or god, or whatever deity you choose to believe in) is like any other relationship in your life. If it’s one sided, meaning you only pray when you need or want something, then that’s not really a good relationship. For example, if you have a partner that is constantly taking and needing without giving anything back, then that’s not really a healthy relationship, and vice versa. So, for me to only pray when I needed something, didn’t feel right.
The reason why I’m talking about prayer is because I prayed the other day for the first time in a long time. I know, I sound like a total hypocrite right now after I just went off about not praying, and the selfishness of only praying when one needs something, but I broke that rule. As I was sitting bottomless in the clinic’s office, a thin paper blanket covering my legs, and waiting for the nurse practitioner to come in and do another round of insemination, I said a prayer. I can’t really explain what came over me, and why I suddenly felt the need to do it, but I did.
The day before my appointment, my best friend texted me and asked how I was feeling. In all honesty, I’d been feeling pretty hopeless about the whole thing. I was already coming up with a plan B the week before because I was starting to feel like I was on a losing mission. Any person, or couple who has tried to get pregnant and have it not work can understand the emotions. Frustration, anger, hopelessness mixed with hope, sadness, despair, and so much more are just a handful of the things I was feeling lately. I was contemplating throwing in the towel because the emotional journey is really hard, especially when you’re doing it alone.
I had terrible stress dreams the night before. Honestly, I haven’t been sleeping very well for at least a couple of months. When it was time to get out of bed, I wasn’t feeling particularly great. I was headed into another attempt, a rain cloud perched above my head, and a feeling of “here we go again”. Not exactly the best attitude to have when you’re actively trying to get pregnant, but I got myself ready to go, anyway.
It felt kind of weird to be praying because I hadn’t done it in so long. I guess if you look at it logically, it’s like talking to yourself, which is something I do all the time. I’m not going to reveal what I said in my prayer, but I’m sure you can guess. When the process was over, and I was laying there for the obligatory 15 minutes, I kept thinking about the prayer. I don’t know if the power of prayer works, but when I left the clinic, I felt different. The last two times, my gut instinct was that it didn’t work. I knew in my heart almost immediately, as I was leaving the parking lot those previous times, that I wasn’t pregnant. This time, though, something in my gut told me that it might’ve worked. Of course it’s way too early to know anything, but if I am pregnant, it would be strange that the one time I prayed, it worked. I don’t know. The waiting is agonizing, but I guess I’ll find out if my prayer/science worked in a couple of weeks.
