My computer died today. It was not a horrible, painful, drawn out death, but rather a thief in the night kind of departure. Being that I am in the middle of my dissertation, its demise was, to say it mildly, untimely.
And the cherry on the top of its sad funeral–the one-year warranty expired October 4, 2011.
When it first failed to start up I called my husband in a panic. You see I have grieved other electronic deaths just this same way–in fact only year ago the last funeral took place.
I was on the verge of a meltdown, tears welling up in my eyes, a feeling of complete injustice invading every ounce of my body. I mean seriously, can’t I catch a break?
But then I stopped myself. I shut the lid, packed it away in a box, took a few deep breaths, and reminded myself that it was just a computer, and that this too shall pass.
And it did.
So what do poorly made computers and technological catastrophes have to do with infertility?
Well today I realized that my boiling point has risen, my ability to adapt to life’s frustrations and let downs has improved, and my perspective has been forever changed by infertility.
All throughout our lives there will be disappointments; there will be catastrophic failures at exactly the most inopportune times. Yet what makes those moments either our demise or our launching pad is how we choose to see them.
So when your laptop dies in the middle of your life’s work, or when despite your greatest efforts, the most strict of diets, all the acupuncture every hard earned penny can buy, and consuming all supplements that may hold out any hope for healing, you do not find a pretty pink plus on the face of your pocket size plastic stick, it is your choice how you deal with the let down.
As for me, I like to follow the advice of Babe Ruth–“every strike brings me closer to a home run.” And I for one fully intend to step back into the batter’s box no matter how many wild pitches come my way. I’m swinging for the bleachers.