It's New Year's Eve.
More than any other time during the year, a day of reflection and planning ahead.
But tonight, I choose to do neither.
You see, reflecting does me no good. It wouldn't take a long time of reflecting on 2011 for me to slip into a self-induced depression. In the past, I've tried putting a positive spin on each horrible event from the year... but it's for naught. God entrusted me with these crosses not so that I could turn them into pretty ornaments... but so that I could carry them. No positive spin. Just truth.
And planning ahead for 2012? Futile. For the past 5 1/2 years I have mapped out the way I intended my life to be. When I came to a road block, I didn't just choose an alternate route, I mapped out the entire trip based on that alternate route. And I repeated this pattern again and again and again until I finally looked up from that map to see that I had missed the entire trip to this point. So in 2012, I'm turning on God's GPS, and I will drive until He tells me to take the next turn.
I am sorrowful. That is probably evident to most of you. But by not projecting my reflections from previous years into my future... I can try to live in the present moment, accept the sorrow I feel currently, and not let it become a self-pity that consumes me.
This cross I embrace... and this sorrow, I accept.
A healthy and blessed New Year to all of you.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
Patron Saint 2012
For those who have been following my blog for awhile, you'll remember that in November or December each year, I always get very excited about getting "assigned" a Patron Saint for the upcoming calendar year. A Patron Saint will be that special go-to friend in heaven, to help you intercede and petition God on your behalf. Two years ago, I was given the name of St Raphael, one of the Archangels, and it was amazingly appropriate. You can read about that here.
Last year, I was given St Eugene de Mazenod, a Saint I was unfamiliar with up to that point. He has been a good friend this year, particularly as I battled the demons attacking my marriage. Ironically, he is the patron Saint for dysfunctional families, and you may remember how funny I found that to be at the time ;)
This year, unfortunately, the wonderful lady who used to pick the Saints for us has closed her blog. But I was able to find a link on another site:
http://www.jenniferfulwiler.com/saints/
Here, you can say a quick prayer before pressing the button, and assign yourself a Patron Saint for the new year!
So, I did. Said a prayer, asked that God lead me to just the right Saint for 2012, and here's what I got:
St. George
Patronage: Against Herpes; Against Plague; Against Skin Diseases; Against Skin Rashes; Against Syphilis; Agricultural Workers; Archers; Boy Scouts; Butchers; Cavalry; Chivalry; Equestrians; Farmers; Field Workers; Knights; Lepers; Palestinian Christians; Saddlers; Sheep; Shepherds; Soldiers
Yes. Take that herpes and syphilis! Your powers will have no effect on ME in 2012!
Awesome.
:)
Last year, I was given St Eugene de Mazenod, a Saint I was unfamiliar with up to that point. He has been a good friend this year, particularly as I battled the demons attacking my marriage. Ironically, he is the patron Saint for dysfunctional families, and you may remember how funny I found that to be at the time ;)
This year, unfortunately, the wonderful lady who used to pick the Saints for us has closed her blog. But I was able to find a link on another site:
http://www.jenniferfulwiler.com/saints/
Here, you can say a quick prayer before pressing the button, and assign yourself a Patron Saint for the new year!
So, I did. Said a prayer, asked that God lead me to just the right Saint for 2012, and here's what I got:
St. George
Patronage: Against Herpes; Against Plague; Against Skin Diseases; Against Skin Rashes; Against Syphilis; Agricultural Workers; Archers; Boy Scouts; Butchers; Cavalry; Chivalry; Equestrians; Farmers; Field Workers; Knights; Lepers; Palestinian Christians; Saddlers; Sheep; Shepherds; Soldiers
Yes. Take that herpes and syphilis! Your powers will have no effect on ME in 2012!
Awesome.
:)
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Surviving on Prayer Alone
I had an appointment with my NaPro Dr last week. Very possibly my last NaPro appointment ever. I knew it going in.
I'm not usually an emotional person in front of other people, unless they are very close friends and I feel really comfortable with them. Even then, it's rare for me to cry in front of them. I usually don't even cry in front of my mother. I reserve it all for my poor husband ;)
But last week was an exception. Without warning, I burst into tears at least three times while discussing plans for stopping all supplementation and meds and everything connected to trying to conceive. I started out by saying, "Well, DH and I have discussed that since I am now over 18 months since my last surgery, there is little to no chance of my conceiving, so..." and it was while admitting that fact aloud that I first broke down. Those words have echoed in my head over and over again "little to no chance..." but actually saying them out loud gave them a new meaning that I couldn't ignore.
As my Dr and husband discussed that "giving up" for now does not and need not mean "giving up" forever, I interrupted to say that no, on the contrary, I am an All or Nothing person, who needs to at least assume for now that my trying to conceive days are over. For good. I cannot function knowing that the "clock is ticking down" on the 6 months, or the year, or the 2 years until we try again. The pain of these past 5 1/2 years has been absolutely immense. My Dr nodded, and told us, "OK. Let's look at it this way. Some people need to have a deadline in mind. But others need to just live and operate in the present moment. Just remember that God has something planned for you, and be open to whatever His plan may be over the next several years." That I can live with.
But I also mentioned that my putting TTC on the shelf and burying it way in the back behind everything visible does not mean I will also be (nor that I could if I wanted to) likewise burying my desire for a life that is not my own. I just cannot ignore this intense desire for motherhood. I cannot push it into the background. I cannot bury it deep under the surface. And I will not pray for it to be taken from me. This is the cross God chose for me. I once believed myself to be carrying this cross of childlessness to my destination of motherhood. Now I know I am carrying it in whatever direction God intends, and ultimately, towards my salvation.
I won't lie. This is one of the scariest moments of my life. To know that, with ALL that I have done to improve my fertility over the past 5 years of NaPro Technology, Reproductive Endocrinology, Reproductive Immunology, and alternative therapies... nothing has worked. And now? Now I venture into a world of doing absolutely nothing, but praying. Praying that God make His will known to me, that one day He may fulfill my desire for motherhood, and that above all, He grant me an everlasting peace I so long for. Because I know... I know I cannot survive in this pain much longer.
After my P+8 labs showed a progesterone level of 10.4, on P+14 when my period had still not arrived, I became worried. Shouldn't my progesterone have decreased to about 3 or less 5 days later?? My Dr recommended a blood test when a urine test that evening in the office showed a BFN. The next day, still no period on P+15, and my blood hCG was negative... my progesterone was 8.8. WHAT? From 10.4 to 8.8 in FIVE DAYS???
I waited. And waited. I began spotting brown that evening. It continued, but got lighter, for the next two days. Christmas Eve, it was barely there. I had already made my peace with not being pregnant in my last "trying to conceive" cycle, but now I was worried that maybe, just maybe, I had a late implantation??? Christmas morning I woke up to complete dryness. No spotting, not staining, nothing. We went to Mass, I prayed feverishly in front of the Saints that flanked us when we got married 5 1/2 years ago in the same church: Saint Rita and Saint Anthony. I prayed that our miracle of life was inside my womb at that moment. We arrived back at my parents' house after Mass, I visited the restroom, and was still dry. I began to realize, here I was on P+18, having taken no progesterone or hCG... should I test today, or wait until tomorrow?? Was this really it??!!
For good measure, I wiped one more time before getting up. Red. Period. Death of the dream. Death of my hope. Death of my peace.
Christmas afternoon.
The following day, I suffered a migraine. Luckily, I caught it early enough that I didn't vomit or pass out. These are the things that I consider myself "lucky" about these days. Praise God! I didn't puke or faint!
And here I sit. Cycle day 3. Or is it 4? It doesn't matter anymore, since I'm not charting. Or caring. I only want to find peace in where God leads me next.
My anger with Him is subsiding. I know He is not punishing me. (Though, it was hard to convince myself that after the whole Christmas P+18 episode.) I know He has wonderful things in store for me. I know there is a reason and a purpose for my suffering. But lately, it seems that the suffering is getting greater and greater, and there is less and less understanding within it. My trust in His plan is wavering. I am scared to death.
A childless life. Something I never, ever planned for. And because I was planning for children, perhaps I missed so many lessons and blessings these past 5 1/2 years. My life HAS BEEN childless this entire time. And it very well may be, forever. I need to begin planning for THAT life. Scratch that. I need to begin... LIVING that life.
Surviving on prayer and prayer alone.
As my husband put it in the Dr's appointment, we could stop trying to have children while knowing that we literally did EVERYTHING possible within our moral and ethical ground. My Dr agreed that of everyone she has ever encountered, we had done the most. This brought comfort to my husband. It brought me fear and distrust. If we would ever be blessed with a miracle child, it would have been with treatment. "Maintenance" meds that help treat all of my plethora of health issues, while simultaneously improving my fertility... this has helped others to conceive when they thought there was "no hope." I'm not on ANY of my prescribed maintenance meds. Zero. Nada. Just me and my broken body. Hoping against logic and against science that God's will can move mountains.
Surviving on prayer alone.
I will always hope and pray that children may be a part of His will for my life. But I'm done fighting tooth to nail to get it. Obviously, it has not been a part of His will up until now, and it may not ever be. There is a great peace about stopping all intervention and maintenance meds... and with prayer, that peace may wash over the fear that comes with the unknown.
I wish you all a very blessed Christmas Season, and hope that you find love and peace in 2012 and beyond.
PS, my Prayer Buddy was Monica from His Essence is Love. Monica, I prayed for you in the chapel at my work, I offered my daily rosary for your intentions, and entered your name in the book of intentions. I prayed for your specific intentions, but I also added my own - I asked that you would have a quick and easy load to carry to your baby... but that if His will was for a longer, harder road, that He give you ALL of the strength and perseverance needed to carry that cross. May God grant you all the hopes and desires of your heart, Monica!
I'm not usually an emotional person in front of other people, unless they are very close friends and I feel really comfortable with them. Even then, it's rare for me to cry in front of them. I usually don't even cry in front of my mother. I reserve it all for my poor husband ;)
But last week was an exception. Without warning, I burst into tears at least three times while discussing plans for stopping all supplementation and meds and everything connected to trying to conceive. I started out by saying, "Well, DH and I have discussed that since I am now over 18 months since my last surgery, there is little to no chance of my conceiving, so..." and it was while admitting that fact aloud that I first broke down. Those words have echoed in my head over and over again "little to no chance..." but actually saying them out loud gave them a new meaning that I couldn't ignore.
As my Dr and husband discussed that "giving up" for now does not and need not mean "giving up" forever, I interrupted to say that no, on the contrary, I am an All or Nothing person, who needs to at least assume for now that my trying to conceive days are over. For good. I cannot function knowing that the "clock is ticking down" on the 6 months, or the year, or the 2 years until we try again. The pain of these past 5 1/2 years has been absolutely immense. My Dr nodded, and told us, "OK. Let's look at it this way. Some people need to have a deadline in mind. But others need to just live and operate in the present moment. Just remember that God has something planned for you, and be open to whatever His plan may be over the next several years." That I can live with.
But I also mentioned that my putting TTC on the shelf and burying it way in the back behind everything visible does not mean I will also be (nor that I could if I wanted to) likewise burying my desire for a life that is not my own. I just cannot ignore this intense desire for motherhood. I cannot push it into the background. I cannot bury it deep under the surface. And I will not pray for it to be taken from me. This is the cross God chose for me. I once believed myself to be carrying this cross of childlessness to my destination of motherhood. Now I know I am carrying it in whatever direction God intends, and ultimately, towards my salvation.
I won't lie. This is one of the scariest moments of my life. To know that, with ALL that I have done to improve my fertility over the past 5 years of NaPro Technology, Reproductive Endocrinology, Reproductive Immunology, and alternative therapies... nothing has worked. And now? Now I venture into a world of doing absolutely nothing, but praying. Praying that God make His will known to me, that one day He may fulfill my desire for motherhood, and that above all, He grant me an everlasting peace I so long for. Because I know... I know I cannot survive in this pain much longer.
After my P+8 labs showed a progesterone level of 10.4, on P+14 when my period had still not arrived, I became worried. Shouldn't my progesterone have decreased to about 3 or less 5 days later?? My Dr recommended a blood test when a urine test that evening in the office showed a BFN. The next day, still no period on P+15, and my blood hCG was negative... my progesterone was 8.8. WHAT? From 10.4 to 8.8 in FIVE DAYS???
I waited. And waited. I began spotting brown that evening. It continued, but got lighter, for the next two days. Christmas Eve, it was barely there. I had already made my peace with not being pregnant in my last "trying to conceive" cycle, but now I was worried that maybe, just maybe, I had a late implantation??? Christmas morning I woke up to complete dryness. No spotting, not staining, nothing. We went to Mass, I prayed feverishly in front of the Saints that flanked us when we got married 5 1/2 years ago in the same church: Saint Rita and Saint Anthony. I prayed that our miracle of life was inside my womb at that moment. We arrived back at my parents' house after Mass, I visited the restroom, and was still dry. I began to realize, here I was on P+18, having taken no progesterone or hCG... should I test today, or wait until tomorrow?? Was this really it??!!
For good measure, I wiped one more time before getting up. Red. Period. Death of the dream. Death of my hope. Death of my peace.
Christmas afternoon.
The following day, I suffered a migraine. Luckily, I caught it early enough that I didn't vomit or pass out. These are the things that I consider myself "lucky" about these days. Praise God! I didn't puke or faint!
And here I sit. Cycle day 3. Or is it 4? It doesn't matter anymore, since I'm not charting. Or caring. I only want to find peace in where God leads me next.
My anger with Him is subsiding. I know He is not punishing me. (Though, it was hard to convince myself that after the whole Christmas P+18 episode.) I know He has wonderful things in store for me. I know there is a reason and a purpose for my suffering. But lately, it seems that the suffering is getting greater and greater, and there is less and less understanding within it. My trust in His plan is wavering. I am scared to death.
A childless life. Something I never, ever planned for. And because I was planning for children, perhaps I missed so many lessons and blessings these past 5 1/2 years. My life HAS BEEN childless this entire time. And it very well may be, forever. I need to begin planning for THAT life. Scratch that. I need to begin... LIVING that life.
Surviving on prayer and prayer alone.
As my husband put it in the Dr's appointment, we could stop trying to have children while knowing that we literally did EVERYTHING possible within our moral and ethical ground. My Dr agreed that of everyone she has ever encountered, we had done the most. This brought comfort to my husband. It brought me fear and distrust. If we would ever be blessed with a miracle child, it would have been with treatment. "Maintenance" meds that help treat all of my plethora of health issues, while simultaneously improving my fertility... this has helped others to conceive when they thought there was "no hope." I'm not on ANY of my prescribed maintenance meds. Zero. Nada. Just me and my broken body. Hoping against logic and against science that God's will can move mountains.
Surviving on prayer alone.
I will always hope and pray that children may be a part of His will for my life. But I'm done fighting tooth to nail to get it. Obviously, it has not been a part of His will up until now, and it may not ever be. There is a great peace about stopping all intervention and maintenance meds... and with prayer, that peace may wash over the fear that comes with the unknown.
I wish you all a very blessed Christmas Season, and hope that you find love and peace in 2012 and beyond.
PS, my Prayer Buddy was Monica from His Essence is Love. Monica, I prayed for you in the chapel at my work, I offered my daily rosary for your intentions, and entered your name in the book of intentions. I prayed for your specific intentions, but I also added my own - I asked that you would have a quick and easy load to carry to your baby... but that if His will was for a longer, harder road, that He give you ALL of the strength and perseverance needed to carry that cross. May God grant you all the hopes and desires of your heart, Monica!
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Stress and Sadness... and Blessings
Things have been spiraling out of control around here. Everything, from work, to infertility, to finances, to friends and family... the one thing holding fast is our marriage. By the grace of God, despite the warnings that Advent would put us through the wringer, we are stronger than ever. Prayer Buddy, don't think I don't realize how much you must be praying your little TAIL off!! Thank you!
But then this leads me back to all the other areas - mostly work, and infertility. I have had the worst work week of my life last week, working through the weekend, and started to feel sick Sunday night. It was bound to happen, but this is my WORST NIGHTMARE!!!! I CANNOT GET SICK!!! The only other people who can "fill in" for me are the Drs at the Centers where I work, and when they have a full schedule already, it really isn't feasible. Not to mention, different people measure differently, and FORGET about cancelling all patients for the day - I would have ruined at least three women's entire ultrasound series if I had cancelled. So... basically, I cannot take a sick day. Talk about stress.
So, instead, I sleep in past my alarm and wind up an hour and a half late to my first job. I had to call the first patient to let her know I was running late, and thankfully, the Dr was able to do her ultrasound before his first appointment for the day. Then, I swapped appointment times with the 2nd patients, and ended up only 15 minutes late for the 3rd appointment. Not to mention, I was in a complete daze. I felt like I had taken Dayquil, I was so out of it. I was coughing, sneezing, probably looked like death warmed over but I refused to look in the mirror.
When I finally got a moment to breathe, I went to ask the nurse if my P+8 labs had come back. Which leads me to stress #2: infertility. Remember how my progesterone levels and estradiol levels were through the roof last cycle? And how I figured, oh great, no need to supplement progesterone any more! Looks like my body doesn't like the sudden absence of supplementation, because my progesterone was TEN. Yes, 10. And estradiol was 171. It's amazing how the mind has power over the body, because almost immediately when she gave me the results, I started to feel crampy.
And that's where I am, now. Crampy, moody, and oh so SAD. I realize that come January, there will be no more "trying," at least, actively, to conceive. I made an appointment for myself with my NaPro Dr on Thursday, to discuss the long-term plan for wellbeing and no meds (if possible). I just cannot keep paying $45/month for progesterone, pay such close attention to when P+3 is, etc. for the remainder of my cycling years. At the same time, if a pregnancy were to miraculously occur, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I miscarried and I could have prevented it. I need to see what the Dr thinks.
Seriously... 10???? Give me a BREAK, here!!!
This week is so hard, in so many ways. But I have been counting my blessings that my marriage is on the way up, and healing is taking place. Last night, we were watching White Christmas, and one of the songs had these lyrics:
"If you're worried and you can't sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings"
(I ignored the lyrics about the nursery with all the curly heads in their beds.)
It's hard to see my blessings, and I find myself getting depressed wondering why I have to be content to have the blessing of a healing marriage when so many of my friends have a marriage that was never challenged to begin with, AND a house full of children's laughter, AND financial security, etc. etc. But then I realize just how much my husband and I have been through, and continue to go through, every day. It surely is a blessing that we have made it this far, and that we are carrying these crosses together. When I remember the huge blessing in that, I always say a prayer for those single people out there, searching and hoping for the chance to find someone to help them carry their cross.
Please say a prayer for me this week, if you can... as I prepare to welcome yet another period just in time to celebrate Christmas. Irony appears to be the glue that holds my life together.
But then this leads me back to all the other areas - mostly work, and infertility. I have had the worst work week of my life last week, working through the weekend, and started to feel sick Sunday night. It was bound to happen, but this is my WORST NIGHTMARE!!!! I CANNOT GET SICK!!! The only other people who can "fill in" for me are the Drs at the Centers where I work, and when they have a full schedule already, it really isn't feasible. Not to mention, different people measure differently, and FORGET about cancelling all patients for the day - I would have ruined at least three women's entire ultrasound series if I had cancelled. So... basically, I cannot take a sick day. Talk about stress.
So, instead, I sleep in past my alarm and wind up an hour and a half late to my first job. I had to call the first patient to let her know I was running late, and thankfully, the Dr was able to do her ultrasound before his first appointment for the day. Then, I swapped appointment times with the 2nd patients, and ended up only 15 minutes late for the 3rd appointment. Not to mention, I was in a complete daze. I felt like I had taken Dayquil, I was so out of it. I was coughing, sneezing, probably looked like death warmed over but I refused to look in the mirror.
When I finally got a moment to breathe, I went to ask the nurse if my P+8 labs had come back. Which leads me to stress #2: infertility. Remember how my progesterone levels and estradiol levels were through the roof last cycle? And how I figured, oh great, no need to supplement progesterone any more! Looks like my body doesn't like the sudden absence of supplementation, because my progesterone was TEN. Yes, 10. And estradiol was 171. It's amazing how the mind has power over the body, because almost immediately when she gave me the results, I started to feel crampy.
And that's where I am, now. Crampy, moody, and oh so SAD. I realize that come January, there will be no more "trying," at least, actively, to conceive. I made an appointment for myself with my NaPro Dr on Thursday, to discuss the long-term plan for wellbeing and no meds (if possible). I just cannot keep paying $45/month for progesterone, pay such close attention to when P+3 is, etc. for the remainder of my cycling years. At the same time, if a pregnancy were to miraculously occur, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I miscarried and I could have prevented it. I need to see what the Dr thinks.
Seriously... 10???? Give me a BREAK, here!!!
This week is so hard, in so many ways. But I have been counting my blessings that my marriage is on the way up, and healing is taking place. Last night, we were watching White Christmas, and one of the songs had these lyrics:
"If you're worried and you can't sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings"
(I ignored the lyrics about the nursery with all the curly heads in their beds.)
It's hard to see my blessings, and I find myself getting depressed wondering why I have to be content to have the blessing of a healing marriage when so many of my friends have a marriage that was never challenged to begin with, AND a house full of children's laughter, AND financial security, etc. etc. But then I realize just how much my husband and I have been through, and continue to go through, every day. It surely is a blessing that we have made it this far, and that we are carrying these crosses together. When I remember the huge blessing in that, I always say a prayer for those single people out there, searching and hoping for the chance to find someone to help them carry their cross.
Please say a prayer for me this week, if you can... as I prepare to welcome yet another period just in time to celebrate Christmas. Irony appears to be the glue that holds my life together.
Friday, December 9, 2011
The Darkness That Keeps Getting Darker
My best friend had an announcement early this week. I need not tell you what the announcement was. The majority of you read it for yourselves.
My best friend is Sew Hormonal. Yes, a person I met online became my best friend in the world before I ever laid eyes on her and ruled out that she was a troll, a rapist, a murderer or a psycho. (I've ruled most of those out by now.) One of the very worst pains in my life was when Sew lost her first baby to miscarriage... I cannot express how horrible I felt at that time, knowing as her Creighton Practitioner, perhaps I could have done something to avoid it. Guilt and anguish consumed me for weeks. Hardly as long as they consumed poor Sew.
I was thrilled to learn when Sew became pregnant again, after finding thyroid cancer and having a complete thyroidectomy (nothing is ever "simple" for Sew Hormonal!) - and that baby would become my goddaughter later that year. The pain of guilt that washed over me with Sew's first pregnancy has been washed away with the disappointment of not getting to see my unbelievably adorable little stinker of a goddaughter whenever I want to... a much lesser pain, of course.
When I heard about Sew's latest pregnancy, I was tickled pink (and yes, I'm already putting my vote in for another GIRL) - I was giddy on the phone with her, but I wasn't at all surprised. I had a feeling she would be blessed with abundant fertility after the years of torture she dealt with. But I also knew that... well... she's not TCIE. And if you're not TCIE... you're bound to get pregnant. And get pregnant again. And adopt. And adopt again. Known fact here, people.
I took the news in stride, and went about my day. I received two text messages from other wonderful friends from the blogs, asking if I was "ok." Honestly, I had no idea what they meant, and my first thought was, "Did I post something on my blog about something that was supposed to be happening today?? Did I completely forget about something??" I texted one friend back, and spoke to the other on the phone for a while. To both, I assured them (and I wasn't lying) that I was a-ok, and not only that, but as Sew's Creighton Practitioner, I took full and complete credit for this pregnancy :) (Yes, I am joking. Somewhat ;) )
The remainder of the day passed. I went to my 2nd job and told my boss about my best friend, gave her a brief synopsis of her vast history of medical issues, and she congratulated Sew. When DH came home, I told him the happy news that our godbaby was a big sister. But something was different this time. When I told DH, I had tears in my eyes. I couldn't find the words to tell him right away. I found myself fumbling for words, saying, "I have good news... I'm really happy about it... I just had a bad day..." I was completely overcome in that moment, with a plethora of emotions. What was going on with me??? Where did this suddenly come from??
I finally spit the words out, continuing to reiterate how happy I was and that I was just overtired and upset about work stress, etc... but I realized it was myself I was trying to convince, not DH. He saw right through it.
"You know, it's ok to be upset about this," he told me.
Don't be ridiculous! Me?! Upset about my best friend kicking infertility's ass?!!! Heck no!
Or maybe... yes?
I began to cry. And I mean - CRY. Two hours later, it had escalated to the point of snot all over my face and hyperventilating, and popping 2 Ativan (and no, this was NOT prior to intercourse as directed!) so that I could finally go to sleep. DH was at a loss. He was so worried.
What I was realizing that night was that my BEST FRIEND was pregnant. OK, so some of you may be thinking, "Well, Duh! You were just realizing that 14 hours later?" - but what hit me was all of the implications of what that meant. My best friend, who carried the same cross as me for so long (and even carried mine for me in 2009 through prayer... oh, silly girl, lol!) had somehow maintained the friendship that so many others have moved on from after becoming a mother. We were still, despite all odds, able to relate to each other and meet each other where we currently were, across the Schism.
Now, she was pregnant again. I suddenly became very aware of that HUGE divide between us - how the next 9 months, she will find absolutely no support from me ("um, yeah, I have no idea what you're going through and how to help you with that... but let me tell you about this saurkraut I found in the health food store!")- and beyond that - how will I be able to relate to her and be there for her as she raises two children under 2? And it doesn't stop there. I'm sure she'll be receiving a homemade bib in the mail that reads "10 of 10" in no time. And with each pregnancy, we will move further and further apart.
I know all of you Moms out there are shaking your heads and saying, "Not so! It absolutely doesn't have to be like that!"
I know all of you barren and childless ones are nodding in agreement.
But my tears were not all about my perception of a friendship lost.
They were also steemed in jealousy. And above all else - anger. Riproaring, wanna-punch-someone-in-the-face-repeatedly anger.
I am so incredibly mad at God that it hurts. On so many levels, it hurts. Why, why does He send me a support group of people only to tear them away from me? Why does He give me this cross, offer me help in the people around me who also carry the same cross, and then lift their crosses right in front of my eyes and shower them with incessant blessings?!! I envision all the women around me opening present after present after present, finding a beautiful baby inside each one, and then haphazardly tossing the rest of the package away - but what they don't realize is that each box also contains a 100 lb. weight, which, when thrown to the side, lands right smack on top of the cross on my shoulders.
The anger runs deep. While I am technically feeling better now at the end of the week, I can still summon that anger at any time, because it's not far under the surface. The following morning I went to the chapel at work, sat in front of the crucifix, and proceeded to tell God just how mad I was at Him. The audacity! I can't even believe I'm sharing this with you all, but I actually did yell at God, while focusing on the image of His only Son, put to death on a cross for ME. You'd think the guilt of admitting that in a public forum would force me to repent and ask forgiveness... nope. I'm still piping mad.
I have so many things going on right now, that I know I'm hypersensitive. Through my ugly sobs the other night, I kept screaming, "I'm not even PMSing, what the bleep?!?!?!" But now that these emotions have been stirred up, I know I need to address them. As DH put it, he knows we will find something to make us happy, and soon, because God would NOT make anyone suffer THIS MUCH for THIS LONG with NO REPRIEVE.
I, on the other hand... I'm not so sure.
My best friend is Sew Hormonal. Yes, a person I met online became my best friend in the world before I ever laid eyes on her and ruled out that she was a troll, a rapist, a murderer or a psycho. (I've ruled most of those out by now.) One of the very worst pains in my life was when Sew lost her first baby to miscarriage... I cannot express how horrible I felt at that time, knowing as her Creighton Practitioner, perhaps I could have done something to avoid it. Guilt and anguish consumed me for weeks. Hardly as long as they consumed poor Sew.
I was thrilled to learn when Sew became pregnant again, after finding thyroid cancer and having a complete thyroidectomy (nothing is ever "simple" for Sew Hormonal!) - and that baby would become my goddaughter later that year. The pain of guilt that washed over me with Sew's first pregnancy has been washed away with the disappointment of not getting to see my unbelievably adorable little stinker of a goddaughter whenever I want to... a much lesser pain, of course.
When I heard about Sew's latest pregnancy, I was tickled pink (and yes, I'm already putting my vote in for another GIRL) - I was giddy on the phone with her, but I wasn't at all surprised. I had a feeling she would be blessed with abundant fertility after the years of torture she dealt with. But I also knew that... well... she's not TCIE. And if you're not TCIE... you're bound to get pregnant. And get pregnant again. And adopt. And adopt again. Known fact here, people.
I took the news in stride, and went about my day. I received two text messages from other wonderful friends from the blogs, asking if I was "ok." Honestly, I had no idea what they meant, and my first thought was, "Did I post something on my blog about something that was supposed to be happening today?? Did I completely forget about something??" I texted one friend back, and spoke to the other on the phone for a while. To both, I assured them (and I wasn't lying) that I was a-ok, and not only that, but as Sew's Creighton Practitioner, I took full and complete credit for this pregnancy :) (Yes, I am joking. Somewhat ;) )
The remainder of the day passed. I went to my 2nd job and told my boss about my best friend, gave her a brief synopsis of her vast history of medical issues, and she congratulated Sew. When DH came home, I told him the happy news that our godbaby was a big sister. But something was different this time. When I told DH, I had tears in my eyes. I couldn't find the words to tell him right away. I found myself fumbling for words, saying, "I have good news... I'm really happy about it... I just had a bad day..." I was completely overcome in that moment, with a plethora of emotions. What was going on with me??? Where did this suddenly come from??
I finally spit the words out, continuing to reiterate how happy I was and that I was just overtired and upset about work stress, etc... but I realized it was myself I was trying to convince, not DH. He saw right through it.
"You know, it's ok to be upset about this," he told me.
Don't be ridiculous! Me?! Upset about my best friend kicking infertility's ass?!!! Heck no!
Or maybe... yes?
I began to cry. And I mean - CRY. Two hours later, it had escalated to the point of snot all over my face and hyperventilating, and popping 2 Ativan (and no, this was NOT prior to intercourse as directed!) so that I could finally go to sleep. DH was at a loss. He was so worried.
What I was realizing that night was that my BEST FRIEND was pregnant. OK, so some of you may be thinking, "Well, Duh! You were just realizing that 14 hours later?" - but what hit me was all of the implications of what that meant. My best friend, who carried the same cross as me for so long (and even carried mine for me in 2009 through prayer... oh, silly girl, lol!) had somehow maintained the friendship that so many others have moved on from after becoming a mother. We were still, despite all odds, able to relate to each other and meet each other where we currently were, across the Schism.
Now, she was pregnant again. I suddenly became very aware of that HUGE divide between us - how the next 9 months, she will find absolutely no support from me ("um, yeah, I have no idea what you're going through and how to help you with that... but let me tell you about this saurkraut I found in the health food store!")- and beyond that - how will I be able to relate to her and be there for her as she raises two children under 2? And it doesn't stop there. I'm sure she'll be receiving a homemade bib in the mail that reads "10 of 10" in no time. And with each pregnancy, we will move further and further apart.
I know all of you Moms out there are shaking your heads and saying, "Not so! It absolutely doesn't have to be like that!"
I know all of you barren and childless ones are nodding in agreement.
But my tears were not all about my perception of a friendship lost.
They were also steemed in jealousy. And above all else - anger. Riproaring, wanna-punch-someone-in-the-face-repeatedly anger.
I am so incredibly mad at God that it hurts. On so many levels, it hurts. Why, why does He send me a support group of people only to tear them away from me? Why does He give me this cross, offer me help in the people around me who also carry the same cross, and then lift their crosses right in front of my eyes and shower them with incessant blessings?!! I envision all the women around me opening present after present after present, finding a beautiful baby inside each one, and then haphazardly tossing the rest of the package away - but what they don't realize is that each box also contains a 100 lb. weight, which, when thrown to the side, lands right smack on top of the cross on my shoulders.
The anger runs deep. While I am technically feeling better now at the end of the week, I can still summon that anger at any time, because it's not far under the surface. The following morning I went to the chapel at work, sat in front of the crucifix, and proceeded to tell God just how mad I was at Him. The audacity! I can't even believe I'm sharing this with you all, but I actually did yell at God, while focusing on the image of His only Son, put to death on a cross for ME. You'd think the guilt of admitting that in a public forum would force me to repent and ask forgiveness... nope. I'm still piping mad.
I have so many things going on right now, that I know I'm hypersensitive. Through my ugly sobs the other night, I kept screaming, "I'm not even PMSing, what the bleep?!?!?!" But now that these emotions have been stirred up, I know I need to address them. As DH put it, he knows we will find something to make us happy, and soon, because God would NOT make anyone suffer THIS MUCH for THIS LONG with NO REPRIEVE.
I, on the other hand... I'm not so sure.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Labels
I was speaking with my massage therapist yesterday about, what else, infertility. She was asking me about work stress, so actually, it didn't start out as an infertility discussion. I told her I've been trying not to overextend myself at work lately, and I've been setting boundaries with patients (NaPro ultrasound) and clients (Creighton). But, it's been hard, because then I feel like I'm "not there" for them, and of everyone at both offices, I should be the one who knows how they feel, understands the importance of their (often incessant) questions, and puts their needs on top priority.
The therapist asked me straight out if I felt like I had to remain infertile for them.
The question, coming from her, took me by surprise.
The question, in and of itself, did not surprise me at all.
It's a question that has been looming in my heart for years, now. Since I was dumbstruck that someone else was able to see that truth which I felt had been hidden, she pressed on: "Do you feel that it would be hurtful for those women to see your pregnant belly sitting across from them, and that you wouldn't be able to give them the same level of care you give them now?"
Bingo.
It was at the very end of our session. She told me to go home and think about this. To realize that my patients and clients do not need me to (and I quote) "take their shit home with {me}." Really?? They don't?? Of course I know this... but, my home is covered with "their shit" and has been for quite a while. Maybe in a way, by assuming their pain, I can escape my own?
It reminds me of when I was a senior in High School, and did a community theatre production of The Crucible. I played Mary Warren, the only one of the young girls with scruples, but in the end, not strong enough to overpower the will, charm, and tactics of Abigail. In that final courtroom scene, Mary Warren is broken down until she gives up the truth and finds protection in Abigail's lie. It is an incredibly emotional and tension-ridden scene to act.
After rehearsals and each show, one of my fellow actors would see me in the back dressing room, face red and splotchy from crying, and taking deep breaths as I re-applied make-up. She asked me one night how I did that scene so intensely each night, and I told her it was easy once I "became" Mary Warren. Another actor overheard and told me that I shouldn't do that - that it was much healthier for me to find my own inner motivation (something that made me scared, anxious, sad, etc.) and do more of a "surface level" acting. This didn't make sense to me. Why would I do that, when I could feel exactly what Mary Warren feels, and allow it to take over the scene?
Now those words, 13 years later, ring in my ears. It's healthier to find my own inner motivation. It's healthier not to assume all of the emotions of my patients, my clients, and, let's face it, my IF blogging friends, too.
This is something I've brought on myself. As I explained to the therapist that once I realized I was infertile, I knew I wasn't going to sit around on my couch and mope about it for what could be (and has ended up being) YEARS, that I knew I needed to DO something with infertility, and give it a purpose.
She listened. She understood. But she suggested that by labeling my own infertility, perhaps I have assumed an identity that doesn't have to be mine. I've become what I think others want (and need) me to be.
This is pretty heavy stuff. Stuff I've already known on some level.
I think the realization comes at a good time, because I am in the midst of surrendering my life into God's hands, and possibly living childless the remainder of my years. I think this will need to be a time of transformation in my heart. A time to step back from the identity I've put myself into, and find my true one, instead.
Now... how in the world do I do that?
The therapist asked me straight out if I felt like I had to remain infertile for them.
The question, coming from her, took me by surprise.
The question, in and of itself, did not surprise me at all.
It's a question that has been looming in my heart for years, now. Since I was dumbstruck that someone else was able to see that truth which I felt had been hidden, she pressed on: "Do you feel that it would be hurtful for those women to see your pregnant belly sitting across from them, and that you wouldn't be able to give them the same level of care you give them now?"
Bingo.
It was at the very end of our session. She told me to go home and think about this. To realize that my patients and clients do not need me to (and I quote) "take their shit home with {me}." Really?? They don't?? Of course I know this... but, my home is covered with "their shit" and has been for quite a while. Maybe in a way, by assuming their pain, I can escape my own?
It reminds me of when I was a senior in High School, and did a community theatre production of The Crucible. I played Mary Warren, the only one of the young girls with scruples, but in the end, not strong enough to overpower the will, charm, and tactics of Abigail. In that final courtroom scene, Mary Warren is broken down until she gives up the truth and finds protection in Abigail's lie. It is an incredibly emotional and tension-ridden scene to act.
After rehearsals and each show, one of my fellow actors would see me in the back dressing room, face red and splotchy from crying, and taking deep breaths as I re-applied make-up. She asked me one night how I did that scene so intensely each night, and I told her it was easy once I "became" Mary Warren. Another actor overheard and told me that I shouldn't do that - that it was much healthier for me to find my own inner motivation (something that made me scared, anxious, sad, etc.) and do more of a "surface level" acting. This didn't make sense to me. Why would I do that, when I could feel exactly what Mary Warren feels, and allow it to take over the scene?
Now those words, 13 years later, ring in my ears. It's healthier to find my own inner motivation. It's healthier not to assume all of the emotions of my patients, my clients, and, let's face it, my IF blogging friends, too.
This is something I've brought on myself. As I explained to the therapist that once I realized I was infertile, I knew I wasn't going to sit around on my couch and mope about it for what could be (and has ended up being) YEARS, that I knew I needed to DO something with infertility, and give it a purpose.
She listened. She understood. But she suggested that by labeling my own infertility, perhaps I have assumed an identity that doesn't have to be mine. I've become what I think others want (and need) me to be.
This is pretty heavy stuff. Stuff I've already known on some level.
I think the realization comes at a good time, because I am in the midst of surrendering my life into God's hands, and possibly living childless the remainder of my years. I think this will need to be a time of transformation in my heart. A time to step back from the identity I've put myself into, and find my true one, instead.
Now... how in the world do I do that?
Friday, December 2, 2011
Liebster Award and Advent Update
Thank you JellyBelly for my Liebster Award :)
The Liebster Award spotlights up and coming bloggers with fewer than 200 followers. In return for the award, the recipient bestows the award on five of their favorite bloggers.
Here are my winners:
1. JellyBelly (it doesn't say you can't nominate the person who nominated you!)
2. the Misfit
3. LifeHopes
4. Finding Joy in Every Journey
5. Polkadot
Upon receipt of the Liebster Blog Award, there are a few very simple rules:
1. Copy and paste the award on your blog
2. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you
3. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
4. Hope that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.
Actually, I'm kinda bummed I have fewer than 200 followers... so... if you don't follow me already, follow me so I can get over 200!! That's my new Christmas goal, haha! :)
In other Advent news, the "intense healing" period that my husband and I are going through is going well. There is definite suffering going on, so I ask for your prayers to that end. I can't really go into more detail because it's very personal, but this is the most intense period of our entire relationship, and we've been together 10 years come January 15th. I can't even believe it's been that long... wow. Anyway, there is light at the end of the tunnel, but it's going to be a long, dark, tumultuous ride.
Nothing exciting going on with my fertility. No new treatments or anything. Trying to not stress about it, but with Christmas coming up, it's hard not to. There's just so much on my plate right now, that childlessness is not in the forefront these days. But even in the background, it is a source of constant pain and suffering.
The Liebster Award spotlights up and coming bloggers with fewer than 200 followers. In return for the award, the recipient bestows the award on five of their favorite bloggers.
Here are my winners:
1. JellyBelly (it doesn't say you can't nominate the person who nominated you!)
2. the Misfit
3. LifeHopes
4. Finding Joy in Every Journey
5. Polkadot
Upon receipt of the Liebster Blog Award, there are a few very simple rules:
1. Copy and paste the award on your blog
2. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you
3. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
4. Hope that your followers will spread the love to other bloggers.
Actually, I'm kinda bummed I have fewer than 200 followers... so... if you don't follow me already, follow me so I can get over 200!! That's my new Christmas goal, haha! :)
In other Advent news, the "intense healing" period that my husband and I are going through is going well. There is definite suffering going on, so I ask for your prayers to that end. I can't really go into more detail because it's very personal, but this is the most intense period of our entire relationship, and we've been together 10 years come January 15th. I can't even believe it's been that long... wow. Anyway, there is light at the end of the tunnel, but it's going to be a long, dark, tumultuous ride.
Nothing exciting going on with my fertility. No new treatments or anything. Trying to not stress about it, but with Christmas coming up, it's hard not to. There's just so much on my plate right now, that childlessness is not in the forefront these days. But even in the background, it is a source of constant pain and suffering.
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