Life's Longing for Itself

“Impossible situations can become possible miracles.” —Robert H. Schuller

Ugh, I am getting very frustrated over things regarding what to do with my life. Everything seems so complicated.

The other day my sister, who works at Starbucks, part-time, mentioned something to a customer about wishing she could get a new computer, the next day the customer brings in an unused (still in the box!) MacBook laptop and tells my sister she will never be using it, so gives it to her - for free! That's the kind of thing I need to happen to me - I don't need a laptop, but I need something positive to fall into my lap.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I had asked a friend to get the phone number of a guy I used to know who I was considering might be an option as a sperm donor. My friend (who's really not friends with this guy, K.M. anymore) did me the huge favor of going to his residence, knocking on the door, and basically telling him (after seven years of him being absent from my life) that I wanted to talk with him. He got the phone number. And my friend told me K.M. was really happy to hear that I wanted to re-connect.

Both my friend, and K.M. live in the town that I moved from (I can't believe it's now been four years since I moved back home with my mom). So, I decide, if I want K.M. to be considered as a sperm donor I better get my i's dotted and t's crossed before I get in touch with him. First on my list is to find a lab in the town where K.M. lives that he can go to to deposit some sperm and get the test done to analyze whether or not he has good ones - healthy, viable sperm. I call the lab and they tell me (as I've now come to find out is how many clinics operate) that their lab doesn't deal with "directed" sperm donation - that's the sperm of someone you know, but aren't in a sexual relationship with. Most clinics only will allow you to go through the fertility process (when you aren't in a committed relationship) with anonymous sperm donors - a sperm bank.

To me it just seems like one more freak'n hurdle to overcome. It gets so overwhelming to be doing this without any guidance or insight. There's so much research involved, so many questions needing answers. Somebody has those answers; I need to find that somebody.

Then, out of the blue, it hits me, what if K.M. has had a vasectomy? I mean it's entirely possible. Then him as option A, becomes him as option G - gone!

And that's another thing, even if I do decide to ask K.M for this monu-f@*king-mental thing how do I go about doing that? "Oh, hi K.M, it's me, L., I haven't seen or spoken to you in seven years but now I need this little favor. What's the favor you ask? Oh, it's just along the lines of, will you donate your sperm so that I can have children whom I really don't want to have anything to do with you in the future. That's all. So, what do you think?"

I mentioned previously that this guy, K.M., comes with baggage. Did I happen to mention that his baggage fills a dump truck and smells just about as bad?

This story goes back a few years.

It’s a scary thought to think that I could go through this amazingly complicated journey, and actually get pregnant - have the children I’ve always desired - only to have them grow up and lead lives with baggage just like their father. But surely, many of you know people who have gone astray, in one way or another, even with the best of parents and the best possible upbringing.

It reminds me of what Kahlil Gibran wrote in his book, The Prophet:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

So, that's what I'm left with in my heart; Life's longing for itself. And the question remains: will and how will Its longing be felt in my own life?