Checking in...

I've been on a hiatus from the blogging world for the past couple of weeks. Life has been very busy and I will have lots to report when I get my act together- hopefully soon. The gist is, I had a grueling 2WW with too many pregnancy symptoms to bear and now terrible PMS related mood swings and anxiety. We have positive news on the adoption front. We are finally gaining some momentum in the process.

Right now my heart is hurting so much. I'm finding comfort in my journal and my prayer from about this same time last year:

Lord, help me to love you as love me. In the midst of such great uncertainty, help me to keep my eyes fixed on you- never denying the reality of the world around me but choosing to hope despite the reality of evil. Lead me to the truth. Hold me always- especially when I have lost sight of your face. Amen.

I've been holding you all close to my heart and praying for you constantly. <3

Be Born In Me

Two week waits are not for the faint of heart! I am in awe of the strength and faith so many of you demonstrate each month during this terribly difficult time. As much as never ovulating was discouraging and depressing, the clarity and certainty of it all gave me time to grieve before the next cycle started. It didn't allow much room for hope.

I am beyond grateful to God for the gift of this hope and I'm acutely aware that this hope will likely not result in a baby.

This dichotomy present in the 2WW is a chance for me to grow in a new way. Romans 5:5 tells us "hope does not disappoint"  but it doesn't tell us "because God will grant all of your wishes" rather it reads "because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us."

Merriam Webster lists the opposites of disappoint as content, gratify, and satisfy. If God has promised us that hope truly does not disappoint than there must be an avenue for me to feel content, gratified and satisfied without my child in my arms.

The other day I had coffee with S from waitinghopefully. We spoke about the sense that we both needed to shift our concepts of happiness and contentment. S acknowledged that if she can't be happy now-even without a baby- she doesn't think she'd be happy with a baby. There will always be something to worry about, something more to want, some unfulfilled dream. We talked about secondary infertility and how awful and isolating that path would be. Even if we each get a BFP, we would both want a sibling for our child, and we'd both agonize over whether we'd be able to see that dream come to fruition.

If we want to be content, we have to embrace the path to contentment in our current circumstances. These past 10 days, I have been trying to focus my prayer on asking our Lord to live in me, to dwell in me, to be born in me. For God did not promise I'd be content when I had a baby, he promised I'd be content because his love has been poured out into my heart.

I've been meditating on the song above, which (if I'm remembering correctly) Mrs. Fitz at Romans 12:12 originally posted about. I added some of my reflections in italics.


Everything inside me cries for order
Everything inside me wants to hide
Is this shadow an angel or a warrior
If God is pleased with me, why I am I so terrified
Someone tell me I am only dreaming
Somehow help me see with Heaven's eyes
And before my head agrees, my heart is on it's knees - My head certainly doesn't understand why the heck God wouldn't grant us a miracle when I've spent my whole life dreaming about being a mom and made all my life decisions based on that desire to be a mom. 
Holy is He. Blessed am I.

(Chorus)
Be born in me, be born in me
Trembling heart, somehow I believe that You chose me
I'll hold you in the beginning, You will hold me in the end
Every moment in the middle, make my heart your Bethlehem
Be born in me

All this time we've waited for the promise
All this time You've waited for my arms
Did You wrap yourself inside the unexpected - The Lord is present in this most painful and unexpected circumstance of infertility and he will be glorified in it. 
So we might know that Love would go that far?

Chorus

I am not brave
I'll never be 
The only thing my heart can offer is a vacancy - These are my favorite 3 lines. I will never be brave. The only thing my heart can offer is a vacancy. How true those words ring. What do I have to offer God, but the hole in my heart Infertility has left. 
I'm just a girl
Nothing more
But I am willing, I am Yours

During the offertory I like to say a silent prayer telling God what I offer him that day (something I learned from Scott Hahn's talk 'How to Get the Most out of the Mass'). Today, I gave Jesus my desire to be a mother- mentally surrendering it to him. This doesn't mean I won't need to surrender again and again but it's a small step toward inviting Jesus to fill the vacancy in my heart- and living with contentment amidst discontenting circumstances. 

A new beginning

I really feel like I failed at lent this year. At this time last year, I was still attending daily mass and twice monthly confession. I attended my first Easter Vigil. My spiritual life felt like it was soaring.

Then life hit me with a whole new kind of suffering- my marriage was literally falling apart, the pain and isolation of infertility was at an all-time high, and I felt myself pulling away from God.

It wasn't a conscious decision. I've of course kept up with the minimum required of me as a Catholic but haven't been obedient to that ever-present call to love greater- to love better.

Before the pain of infertility, I used to beg God for my husband's conversion. I would pray every day that he would let me suffer for the good of my husband's soul.

Then infertility hit and I thought, "I can handle this," then some really awful events which threatened the very existence of our marriage, then more sickness and more surgery. And I thought, "I don't know if I can handle this. Please no more, God."

I went from walking toward Christ atop a stormy sea to fighting desperately to keep my head above water while letting the current pull me in the opposite direction of my goal.

At the core of holiness is the call to love. In many ways I let holiness drift out of reach this year as I told God, "no." "I won't go to daily mass. I won't spend that extra time in prayer. I don't want any more of this suffering."

Easter reminds us that despite all there is to fear, we will overcome. Jesus didn't just get-by. He literally over-came sin and death. If I want to stop treading water, if I want to share in the resurrection, I need to allow Christ to suffer in me.

How in the world will I find the strength to accept anymore suffering?

I need a paradigm shift.

We live in a world that wants to dismiss suffering. A world that tells us "it really isn't that bad." A world that leaves us yearning for more, as it responds to our deepest pain with empty platitudes like, "everything happens for a reason." And at the same time this world tells us suffering is the ultimate evil. Evidence of this is everywhere: euthanasia, aborting babies with disabilities or who will grow up poor, constant encouragement to do what "feels" good, the "conscious uncoupling" of love from sacrifice- the list is endless. This world tells us to avoid suffering at all costs and paradoxically tells us to deny the reality of suffering when it cannot be avoided. This is the perfect recipe for confusion and meaninglessness.

Even as Catholics serious about following church teaching, it's all but impossible to totally avoid the influence of the times. While we may know that suffering has divine purpose, we're caught between this world and the next. We can't find meaning in suffering if we deny it's reality. We can't find meaning in suffering if we're focused on running away from it.

“It is when we attempt to avoid suffering by withdrawing from anything that might involve hurt, when we try to spare ourselves the effort and pain of pursuing truth, love, and goodness, that we drift into a life of emptiness, in which there may be almost no pain, but the dark sensation of meaninglessness and abandonment is all the greater.”

- Pope Benedict XVI

So my plan is to tell this world they've got it wrong. I am suffering. I don't need to feel bad about acknowledging that. Acknowledging reality doesn't mean I'm seeking attention. Let's stop requiring one and other to minimize the hurt and the pain while telling each other we can find meaning it.

Can you imagine if the John had turned to Mary at the foot of the cross and said, "there, there, everything happens for a reason?!"

Of course not! Suffering has meaning but its meaning comes in part from staying present in the reality of our circumstances- from staying at the foot of the cross.

No matter what your cross, stop denying it. Stop minimizing the crosses of others. We are "walking through the valley of the shadow of death." God does give us more than we can handle. And yet we "fear no evil" because Christ has overcome all the ugliness of this world.

"Because he has overcome, we shall overcome."

I'm not crazy. I'm grieving!

As I a sat on my therapist's couch today, one big ball of tension and anxiety, I finally said it. Tentatively. And with this disclaimer, "I'm normally uncomfortable with any kind of attention..." like a true Irish Catholic, I'm terrified of being perceived as self-centered, "I'm hurting so much and I just want people to see it. I want them to know I'm suffering."

Did I really just say this? Was I going to go straight to hell now? I seriously just said I want other people to know I'm suffering. What's wrong with me? 

I know in my heart it's not really about wanting everyone to know. I just want to be able to  bear my heart with those I love. For some reason infertility builds walls around you and the people you used to rely on the most. I want to scale the wall. 

"No one can grieve alone, inside their head, because that’s not how grief works. Grief is a form of love, and it requires company – it needs to see its reality reflected back to itself from the heart and soul of another human being. Just as love does."

"Unrequited grief is as crippling as unrequited love, and it can last a lifetime, because grief is patient.  It will wait until you seek out that supportive ‘other’, that mirror – like other childless by circumstance women. (Yes, there are other ways too, but this has got to be the fastest I’ve found)."

"Grief heals us so that we can fall in love with life again, but we can’t do it alone. It’s a poisonous myth of our individualistic culture."

"Time does not heal grief. Grieving heals grief."

Amen! Thank you to Jody Day at Gateway Women for your words of wisdom. 

http://gateway-women.com/2013/03/27/youre-not-crazy-youre-grieving/

Today...

I'm loving everyone's 'Little Happies.' I'm feeling pretty down today so don't read any further if you're not up for a little melancholy.

I had my peak+4 ultrasound today. While I was in the waiting room, I let myself imagine the possibility that I ovulated and that I'd be returning in a month or so for an ultrasound of baby. I let myself imagine what it would feel like. Why the heck did I let myself go there? Well, I really thought I could have ovulated this month. My typical LUF pain didn't seem as bad as it normally does, but sure enough I had another LUF.

I let myself cry on the drive into work. I grieved the loss of another month gone by without the little one we long for. And now I just feel numb. I feel so cut off from the world. I feel so disinterested in everything. I don't like this.

This was my 3rd cycle using Neupogen and I'm hoping they'll adjust the treatment plan since I don't seem to be responding. Last month they though I "might" have ovulated but I'm thinking I didn't. Why would it work one month and not the next?

I called our adoption agency today to see where we are on the waiting list to do our home study. We our still 4th on the list. We were 4th on the list in November and they told us they thought it'd be 3 months but we haven't moved up at all!

They said they're seeing very few birth moms who don't already have an adoptive family identified. They're encouraging people to do an independent home study and identify their own birth mom. I do not feel up to this. I just can't imagine spending that much time thinking about it. I feel like I would lose my mind. I'm supposed to be talking to a social worker about it tomorrow to get a better idea about what it would involve. Anyone have any thoughts?

And then well, maybe it doesn't matter because the DH is still not going to mass. And I really don't want to move forward until he's got some faith. We're arguing because he says I 'pressure' him. I rarely bring it up but when we do talk about it I do emphasize that I believe faith is a choice. He says he's waiting until he "feels called," which infuriates me. He's cut himself off from the grace of the sacraments. He isn't going to feel called. Of course God can work miracles but he usually works within the natural order of things and he's made himself available to us. Ultimately, we have to choose him. Any feedback? Obviously, I'm praying for him and trying to be a good example and I swear I usually don't bring it up...

What I need you to know about infertility: Part 1

Dear loved one, I know you want to be helpful and infertility is hard to understand. If you can forgive my sometimes cynical tone, I think you'll find this helpful. 

1) I am as relaxed as I can possibly be. Infertility is a full-time job all it's own. I miss work at least 4 times a month for last minute appointments that are based on my dysfunctional body's cues. I am using nearly my entire salary to pay for medications that my Cadillac Insurance plan (read super expensive) doesn't cover (while they quite happily pay for abortions and birth control). I don't have the option to "not think about" my infertility because I have to constantly monitor my body for "signs" to determine when to take a given medication and to write up charts for my doctors to read at the end of the month (When I skip this step because I just can't bear to focus that much on infertility the doctors refuse to adjust my treatment plan without that information). I've had to leave work in the middle of the day on more than one occasion because my doctor's office called and said I needed to give myself a shot an hour ago.

When you tell me to relax you imply that my infertility is somehow my own doing. Telling me to relax only stresses me out more. I am already spending more than I can afford to "relax." I have a detailed self-care plan developed with the help of a mental health professional. Your advice to relax makes me question myself more. It makes me bewildered and frustrated that the extensive steps I've already taken to "relax" apparently aren't working. It highlights another thing I'm not doing right.

If you think I need to relax then help me relax. Send me a gift card for a massage. Call me and ask me to go for a walk. Take me to get my nails done. Pray with me. Make us dinner. Better yet take me to a comedy club. I could use a good laugh. Whatever you do, don't tell me to relax. I'm doing the best I can given very un-relaxing circumstances.

2) I need to talk. Infertility is so isolating. People don't want to ask about it because they don't know how to handle the answer. They don't want to "pry." Please don't avoid asking me how I'm doing because you're afraid I'm not doing well. If I'm not doing well that's even more of a reason I need to talk. Talking helps me process things. It helps me connect with you. I don't expect you to have the answers. In fact, I really don't want you to try to give me answers. There are none. Infertility isn't fair. There's no good reason I've been dealt this hand. Infertility is now a part of who I am and I need to be able to share that with you. I need to give voice to my pain. Being able to share my story reminds me that people do care. It reminds me that even though I may feel a crushing sense of sorrow and isolation that I am still alive. That other people want to know me. That I am worth knowing. That I am worth something. That I am still bearable to be with.

When you don't ask- no matter how I try to rationalize it- I'm left feeling like you don't care. Oh and if you really don't care, then don't ask. I'll know by the way you listen or don't. 


3) I am in a constant state of limbo. I had an awful headache the other night. I knew an Ibuprofen would help but I couldn't take an Ibuprofen because Ibuprofen can inhibit ovulation. Well, I never ovulate anyway so I might as well just fix my headache, right? Well, no because what if this is the month where all the expensive medication is finally going to work and I mess it up because I took an Ibuprofen?

I am tempted to throw myself totally into my career. It seems like a good way to distract myself from the pain of my shattered dreams for my family and future. If I can't have the life I dreamed, at least I can accomplish other great things in the world. Right? Well, if I accept the career building opportunities that come my way then I won't be able to miss all the work I normally miss. I won't be able to attend all the doctor's appointments and ultrasounds. I won't be able to scurry off in the middle of the day because I forgot the injection I need right now. 

If I accept all those career building opportunities, I'll be taking time away from relaxing which I'm told is pretty important (see #1). So go for balance you say? Well, that's what I'm doing. But balance leaves me feeling pretty mediocre. My body has failed me and I want to feel like I'm worth something. Career success seems like a healthy enough Plan B, but I don't want to sacrifice my dream for a family for my career. So I don't. But then again there's no guarantee that all this balance will result in the family I so desperately long for. How will I know when to give up on balance and focus more fully on my career? How will I know when I have no other choice than to make my career my consolation prize?

I can't go all in. I'm constantly hovering above two worlds- one I'd quite happily leave in an instant if I could but as things stand, it offers my only chance at feeling somewhat competent and worthwhile- the other I desperately long for but can do little more to attain. I stay- an unwilling visitor- in the first world- not knowing if I should make my home here or not. All the while, my efforts to earn my place in the second world take away from my worth in the first.

Nearing the end?

DH and I have been discussing how to handle the situation with his family, namely the lack of connection and support I've felt the past 6 months. Of course I have the option to just change my expectations but I've come to rely on MIL for so many things. I value our relationship so much and I simply cannot resign myself to the fact that we're going to have a merely polite relationship.

I've compiled a list - a combination of various articles and blog posts- that touches on the key things I think would be helpful for DH and I. I'm terrified to pass it along because I don't want to be criticized for it. I'd be making myself very vulnerable by sharing it. And the scariest possible outcome is that it goes completely unacknowledged.

During our discussion on how this might be best handled DH said, "we're nearing the end of trying to conceive..." He's never said that before and now I feel a whole new wave of grief and hopelessness wash over me. It breaks my heart into a million pieces to think this journey really might end without a pregnancy and the birth of our baby.

I feel like a failure as wife. I feel forgotten by my loved ones. I feel a crushing, paralyzing sense of sorrow...

"Worn"

Tenth Avenue North 

I’m Tired I’m worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes

To keep on breathing

I’ve made mistakes

I’ve let my hope fail

My soul feels crushed

By the weight of this world

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up

But I'm too weak

Life just won’t let up

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn

My prayers are wearing thin

Yeah, I’m worn

Even before the day begins

Yeah, I’m worn

I’ve lost my will to fight

I’m worn

So, heaven come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause all that’s dead inside will be reborn

Though I’m worn

Yeah I’m worn

Stress Reduction?!?!

If one more doctor tells me I need to reduce my stress....!!!!! What in the world I am supposed to do? I already take the best care of myself I can. I make time for prayer. I go to spiritual direction, therapy, take care of my physical health, I avoid over-committing myself, I have a job that I love that is rewarding and gives me a reason to look forward to tomorrow, I spend time with friends, do things I enjoy, etc, etc, etc.

My life is pretty un-stressful in the grand scheme of things- except of course the issue of infertility which I have little control over. I do everything in my power to handle it the best I can- reaching out to you-this amazing blogging community, prayer, talking to friends, therapy.

I am all for self-improvement, for responding the best you can to the cards you've been dealt. I honestly have no idea what I'm supposed to do to de-stress anymore. 

Does anyone else feel perpetually annoyed by this suggestion???? Am I crazy???

And just FYI so this post doesn't seem totally pointless and annoying- the doc did shed some light on my high Reverse T3. She said R T3 is like the breaks on a car. It's telling my body to stop doing things that aren't essential for survival because I'm in chronic stress overload or fight-or-flight. She said that's why I'm responding with such extreme anxiety to the T3 supplement, because my body's trying to tell me to focus on something else. But what? 

Adopt-a-Blogger: Thank you!

 

February was an interesting month. I cannot thank you all enough for your prayers! It was so humbling to be chosen for such a HUGE gift. Thank you again, Stephanie, for supporting me so much in this blogging world and allowing the Holy Spirit to guide your heart as he did.  I look forward to praying for this month's Adopted blogger, though I think I should wait for Amy to announce her.

Allow me to share some of the blessings from the past month:

- DH and I are making some tremendous breakthroughs in our relationship. He actually asked me to think about how my actions support our connection or hurt it! Hello?! This is exactly how I've been trying to get him to think and the fact that he's using that language is great sign!

- I wrote My letter to baby post, which was very healing for both DH and I. DH never reads my blog but I read that post to him through many many tears. He listened attentively and said it was "good." And later he said he wished he knew how to respond better because he really wanted to connect with me in that moment. Again. This is not the way my DH talks. This is huge!!!

- I can feel the Lord working on my heart, helping me to see what I can change and can actually feel myself reacting differently when I get upset with my DH. (Can you say miracle?)

- We're on a trip with my husband's family (some of his cousins too). This morning all of the young adults (except me) opted not to go to mass with the parents but DH decided totally on his own to come with. He hasn't been with me to mass in over a year. I think he was just trying to be kind to me, but nonetheless, it's a huge step! He has avoided mass like the plague for so long now. I'm confident God is working on his heart. Oh, and the readings and homily could not have been more perfect! The priest talked for 15 minutes about the importance of confession and what a gift it is and how merciful our God is. Amen!

- We are now on our 2nd cycle using Neupogen and an HCG trigger. We won't know for a few days whether or not I ovulated but I'm hopeful. I was beyond worried about having to bring the medicine with me on this family trip since it has to be refrigerated and I had no idea what I'd do if I needed an ultrasound while we were away. But... I ovulated freakishly early this month and so didn't need to bring the refrigerated meds with me. Wohoo!

- I connected with Sew and she's given me a ton of help/direction about my thyroid issues. She did research for me and connected me with doctors in my area that she hopes will be able to better address my thyroid since T3 hasn't been working out so well lately.

I can't say enough how big of a miracle these little changes with my husband are. I know they are a result of all of your prayers. I am beyond grateful to you all. Praying for you now and always. <3

Update: March's Adopted Blogger is Amanda at truegoodandbeautiful.net

I look for you everywhere

Dear Baby,

You were so content riding in the cart at the grocery store. You kept looking at me and that now familiar sense of love and joy washed over me. You have your dad's eyes and long eyelashes. You have his sly, mischievous grin. Your calm, cheerful demeanor is your dad's too. Maybe you'll grow to be sensitive and determined like me. Maybe you'll be generous and thoughtful like your dad. Maybe you'll be freakishly picky about all things food like both of us. Maybe you'll have your dad's math skills and my reading skills (we can only hope it's not the other way around!).

But you're not in my cart, baby. You're in that other woman's cart. And those traits that remind me so much of my husband could have come from your mom for all I know. You're not mine. You're not my husbands. Why do I keep seeing you everywhere?

It's been 32 months since your dad and I opened our hearts to your arrival- 43 months since we've been married. You see we were worried in the beginning that we wouldn't have enough money to provide for you the way we wanted to. We worried that I wouldn't be able to stay home during the day and take care of you. Because of all our worries, we tried to avoid pregnancy those first 11 months of our marriage. Now we wonder if we hadn't of been so cautious and plan obsessed, would you be here today?

You see my dear baby, around the 11th month of our marriage, your dad did the math and said he thought it'd be okay if you arrived in nine months- that I'd be able to quit my job and spend my days taking care of you. My heart nearly jumped outside of my body with excitement. I went right over to my friend's house and told her you might be here soon! She was so excited to meet you too and told me what a good mom I was going to be.

I thought about how much fun you were going to have playing with all the kids in our neighborhood, how so many of them would be around your age. I thought about how I needed to take better care of myself to give you the healthiest start possible. I went to W.hole foods and bought the most expensive pre-natal vitamins I could find. I stopped drinking caffeine and alcohol. I ordered Dr. Sears' 'The Baby Book' and read all about pregnancy and childbirth. I even decided I would try to have a natural birth. I had always said I would have all the pain medication they could give me, but with the thought of your impending arrival, I had a new love in my heart- like nothing I had experienced before- and I thought for the first time, "I can handle the pain", because I so wanted you to have the very best start possible.

That month, I wondered a lot about whether or not you'd be making your debut soon. I googled every little thing I noticed going on with my body and without fail- every time-  I found at least 10 sites or message boards that said A B or C was an early pregnancy symptom! My anticipation only grew greater!

On a hot July day, I drove to W.algreens in a flurry, and awkwardly bought my first pregnancy test. I remember feeling worried about what people would think- if they could see I was married or if they thought poorly of me. I don't really know why I was so worried about other people, I guess was still a little immature.

I got home and ripped open the package with an indescribable euphoria. So many thoughts raced through my head. "How would I tell your dad?" "Did I still have time to go to his favorite bakery and buy a special cake with the announcement written on it?" "How long did I need to wait to tell everybody else?" "Crap, I think I did have some alcohol in the past 2 weeks, could I have hurt you?"

I followed the instructions and waited a few minutes to read the result. Only one line. That meant 'not pregnant.' But it just couldn't be right! What about all that stuff I read online? I threw the test in the trash and took another one. Same result. "Maybe it just takes longer than it says," I thought as I pulled the first test out of the trash to see if the result had changed. There was a faint line. I could swear. I quickly began googling and all the message boards said 'Congratulations! I had a faint line and my son/daughter was born 9 months later.'

But it only took a day or two for my hopes to be shattered- my period had arrived. I let a month or two more pass before I called our fertility care practitioner (the lady trained to read the charts of my cycles and see if anything problematic might be going on). She said it was normal for things to take a few months and recommended a couple supplements, which I purchased immediately. At the end of that month I knew something was wrong and went to my doctor.

I don't want to bore you with all the details, my dear baby. The doctor thought a few things might be off and gave me some medicine she thought would help. When it didn't help your dad and I argued about what to do next. Your dad was really worried that my doctor was missing something. He thought that if we could just find that missing puzzle piece, you'd be here any day.

We went to see a specialist who does many things that aren't in line with our beliefs. She was supposed to be the best. We thought we could get her help with finding out what was taking you so long and then go to a Christian doctor for treatment. We could never bare the thought of having you frozen and graded and treated like a product. You mean too much. I spent that month getting poked and prodded nearly every day. I hated all the examinations but I wanted answers. I wanted you in my arms. So I asked them for more tests. I knew there was a problem. They'd find it. We'd fix it. And you'd be here.

We met with the doctor in January and she told me in no uncertain terms there was nothing preventing your arrival. She said you'd be here within the year. And then she offered us chemicals if we wanted to "hasten your arrival." I wanted you here pronto, but what she was saying made no sense to me. I knew in my soul she had to be wrong. I started to cry. She clearly thought I was silly and told me to go see a therapist. I told her I knew there was something keeping you away. She said it just wasn't so. We left- your dad with renewed optimism- and me with a broken heart.

You weren't here and I knew there was a reason. I went back to my other doctor. I kept asking for more tests. Eventually, my persistence paid off and the doctor realized I might have endometriosis. She sent me to a surgeon who agreed. I was so excited we were closer to an answer! I knew you'd be here soon now. I lamented to the surgeon that I just didn't know what I'd do if I didn't have endometriosis because I just had to know what was holding you back.

Surgery was only a couple weeks later and your dad sat with your grandma in the waiting room. He would never admit it, but your grandma said he was really scared. Your dad really loves me and he thinks he needs to hide his feelings to be strong for me. The surgeon came out and told your dad he had never seen so much endometriosis in someone so young. As soon as I woke up, I asked what they found and when we could again open our hearts to your arrival. The doctor said we need only delay a couple of weeks.

Six months went by and still no you. I wrote a letter to a doctor far away to see what he thought. I found out I would need another surgery. I wasn't scared because I just wanted to meet you. But then I needed 4 more surgeries. And I started to get scared. I began to fear the pain. I began to fear what might happen to me. I wondered if I'd die of complications from the anesthesia. There were days I could barely move I was in so much pain. I was angry at everyone. I was angry at the doctors for not giving me enough medicine. I was angry at your dad- for just trying his best to help me. I was angry at every pregnant woman I saw for having what I couldn't. During this very dark time, I found it especially difficult to pray. I tried to make a habit of asking Mother Mary to pray for me every time I walked past her statue in our living room. It was during the most painful period of my recovery that I walked passed Our Lady and I heard you cry out to me, "keep fighting for me, mommy."

How could I give up now? Every month I stick myself with needles and let strangers prod me with strange devices. I miss hours- sometimes days of work- to do seemingly trivial things the doctors tell me will help you get here.

Most of my days are spent fighting for your classmates. I don't know how to tell you this, but there are some mommies and daddies who don't think there children should be born. Even when they're already on their way, the mommies and daddies think about hurting their babies. I feel sad when I hear their reasons because a lot of them sound like the reasons we avoided welcoming you into our hearts. But I swear to you, baby, we would never hurt you. Most of the time, I feel powerless to help you get here. But Our heavenly Father has given me a little bit of influence when it comes to your friends' arrivals. When I talk to these pregnant women, I wonder if they aren't carrying your future spouse. I wonder if they aren't thinking about ending the life of your best friend or teammate. A lot of the time I want to tell them, "you will never regret your child's life! But if you end their life, you will forever regret the hole in your heart only this baby can fill." I'm not allowed to say those things though. So I try to listen.

And a lot of the time, I hear your voice, "keep fighting for me mommy." And because I know you will care about your peers, I know you want me to fight for them. And even though I have no more say in when you get here, I can fight for you. I can love the mommies and daddies I meet and help them to love the babies they haven't yet met. I can see you in their eyes and in the eyes of the babies I meet. I will keep fighting. I will keep loving. I am already your mommy. I care my sweet baby. I care. Even if I can't show it in the way I want to. I care. And I will answer our heavenly Father's call. Maybe you know when you'll get here. Maybe you don't. Could you pray for me? I am praying for you. I am holding you in my heart. I am seeing you everywhere. I love you.

"I look for you everywhere the stars, the trees, the whispers in the wind the reflections in the water the sunrising and sunset. And I will keep looking."

Anger and a little insight from another blogger

We are all quite familiar with the 

Kubler Ross 5 Stages of Grief, right? I'm confused about the path I've taken. I feel like I've moved through all the stages except anger, which is supposed to be the second stage. But I think it's safe to say, I've finally made my way around to it. I'm so angry at people for pulling away when I need them the most. 

I was reading Amanda's post (she blogs at truegoodandbeautiful) on 'How TO support a loved one facing infertility' and she has such amazing insight. I was particularly struck by by this:

3. Asking us how they can help.

"This really takes boldness, and I really appreciate it when a friend asks this. Infertility is like being on the cross with Jesus. I am totally linked to him. I am well aware that we are asking a LOT of our friends and family to be near us in the struggle. It’s like when Jesus was on the cross - only Mary, John, and a few women stood nearby. It took tremendous amounts of courage to stay by Jesus on the cross and in turn, it takes a lot of courage to ask people to stand with us while we hang on the cross. Most people won’t have the emotional ability to stay with us, and I know that. But those willing to try and stick near us...I treasure with all my heart because they are far and few between."

Read her entire post here: How to support a loved one facing infertility

People often lack the emotional ability to stay with us. This captures in such a clear and simple way exactly what I've been struggling with-exactly what I've felt so angry about. I don't think I have the mental energy to say much more about it right now but I wanted to share it with you nonetheless. I do want to acknowledge that Amanda certainly seems to have a level of acceptance about this that I don't have right now... One day.

"Everything happens for a reason:" why this statement stings so much: Part I

I have a lot to say about what's wrong with this statement. Please know, this series is not meant as an attack on anyone that says it. I'm certainly guilty of saying it at one point or another. This series is intended to not only help people understand why not to say it, but also to shed some light on why it stings so much when we hear it. Many people feel a vague sense of sadness or anger when someone responds with "everything happens for a reason" but can't quite put their finger on why it hurts so much.

Reason 1: It shuts down connection.

"A platitude is a trite, meaningless, or prosaic statement, generally directed at quelling social, emotional, or cognitive unease. The word derives from plat, French word for "flat." Platitudes are geared towards presenting a shallow, unifying wisdom over a difficult topic. However, they are too overused and general to be anything more than undirected statements with ultimately little meaningful contribution towards a solution. Platitudes are generally a form of thought-terminating Cliche." -Wikipedia

"Thought-terminating." When I tell someone about our journey and they respond with "everything happens for a reason" they are shutting down the conversation. What does this phrase do other than communicate "everything will be fine" "you don't have a right to feel the way you feel" and "there, there, I have all the answers now just be quiet." This isn't about what their intentions might be. This is about the reality of what that phrase and others like it do to people who are suffering. And the big deal is- they cut off connection. They communicate that the listener is not interested in hearing more about your experience.





Sharing your pain means making yourself vulnerable and making yourself vulnerable means you are taking a risk. "Will I be heard?" "Is this relationship emotionally safe?" We can't know the answers until we try. And so we try. And try. And too often, instead of hearing something empathic from our loved ones like, "I see how much you're hurting right now" or simply, "tell me what's it like for you," we get shut-down/thought-terminated/kicked in the gut by a big fat platitude. 

In the mental health world we know that what is "sharable becomes bearable." The most painful experiences and emotions can be made manageable simply by being able to share them with a empathic person. When I reach out to others and am shut down by one of the above cliches I feel alone in my suffering. When I can share my pain with someone who truly listens, it quite literally allows me to create a place within my own soul where I can cry my heart out. I no longer have to shut down the emotions and the experience because they are made bearable by the empathic ear. 

Just like this amazing and brief YouTube clip explains, "A response rarely makes something better. What makes something better is connection." So please next time your loved one attempts to share their burdens with you, don't try to make it better with a response. Try to connect.

He will restore

Satan is attacking my marriage on all fronts. Even our Christian therapist seems to have succumb to the influence of the evil one.  He agreed 6 months ago to read a book that summarizes the Catholic understanding of human sexuality.  He still hasn't read it. I expressed my concern about his lack of follow through and lack of knowledge regarding the basics of my dearly held beliefs (an essential aspect of doing good pyschotherapy).  He said, "I don't have an in-depth understanding of Catholicism nor do I desire to." I gave him a chance to correct his blunder. "Help me understand what you meant by that," I said. And he responded, "I do not have an in-depth understanding of Catholicism nor do I desire to."
That is an absolutely absurd and unprofessional response from a mental health "professional".  He needed to acknowledge my concern and address it directly. His desire or lack thereof to do anything has no place in our therapy. He is supposed to be the professional and decent professionals make an effort to be culturally competent- meaning they educate themselves on their clients' beliefs and culture. No one is asking him to study the Cathechism. He just needs to know a couple basics that are essential to the issues we are working on in therapy. After 7 months of not feeling heard by this person I am paying big money to just listen to me, I have made the scary decision to terminate our couple's work with him and find a new therapist. This was a huge leap of faith because it took an act of God to get my husband to agree to therapy in the first place. "Starting over" with someone else is going to mean a lot more work for us. I'm trying to pray for the grace to forgive this therapist. I feel so angry and let down right now.

The devil wants me to focus on the problem- to continue to obsess about this person's unprofessionalism, wasted time and money, hurt, etc but this just detracts from my focus on my marriage and the Lord's desire to bring us healing.

 This is what's speaking to my heart today.

Through the darkness

Written February 2013 I prayed fervently on the drive to work this morning. I asked God to give me His strength. I told Him that I feel the aching reality of my humanity- of my limits. I am in the trenches and He seems to have withdrawn His consolation. The devil however, has reared his ugly head quite a bit lately.  

I received some particularly challenging news about my health this Tuesday.  I've been having quite a bit of pain along with other weird symptoms.  An ultrasound confirmed that I had 2 complex ovarian cysts and my ovary was enlarged to almost 3 times what it should be. I have a significant family history of ovarian cancer and the doctor was quick to inform me they would normally be quite concerned about cancer with something like this, but because I just had surgery it just can't be (apparently it doesn't grow that fast).  He did say that we need to repeat an ultrasound in 3 weeks and if things aren't looking better surgery will likely be necessary.  This would mean my 4th surgery within a year's time. I can honestly say that another surgery doesn't scare me all that much.  It would likely be a quick procedure and pale in comparison to the long long surgery I had in December.  What does scare me is that we will be in this state of limbo forever.  I had a knee-jerk reaction when he mentioned surgery. I told him to just "take everything" so we can be done with this and my husband will come to terms with the fact that we'll never have biological kids and we can finally move forward with adoption! 

Of course I didn't completely mean what I said.  If there is no medical reason necessitating the removal of "everything" then I would, of course, never pursue such a drastic procedure. The part I did mean was the part about adoption. I am so ready to adopt.  I feel like I have been ready to adopt my whole life.  Ever since I learned there were children without loving homes- and before I understood where babies came from- I reasoned that people shouldn't have anymore babies if there were babies without homes. I promise I was not a mini secular humanist, it was just my childlike mind trying to address the reality of suffering children. My husband is not opposed to adoption but is not ready to consider it at this time.  I have to respect where he is at.  I cannot pressure him to move forward with a life-changing decision he is not open to making.  God has put adoption on my heart and I have to trust that he will open my husband's heart to this miracle if it is His will for our family. It would however be "easier" if I could move the process along by "forcing" my husband to come to terms with our infertility- say through the dramatic loss of my reproductive system. There is just something so painful about ambiguity.  I grieve and then hope. Grieve and then hope. Grieve and hope. There never seems to be a moving forward- a moving beyond. 

And so this news from the doctor left me feeling pretty raw.  I was sad, discouraged and confused.  The rest of the day, for whatever reason, the raw hideousness and heart-wrenching evil of abortion was made clear to me multiple times throughout the day through various random and seemingly unrelated events.  It truly felt as though Satan was taunting me. The cruel irony of having my infertility weighing so heavy on me while also being bombarded by the cruel reality of "unwanted" babies being slaughtered.  I had already been feeling ill-equipped to serve the clients at my work since returning after my 6 week recovery.  I had been feeling brain-dead and incoherent.  Now I was feeling like God was allowing me to see in a profound way the dark reality of abortion.  He was allowing me to feel the weight of my cross, that of struggling with infertility and being surrounded by women who are pregnant with babies they don't want. 

I prayed fervently on the drive home from work today.  I told Him how tired I am.  I told Him how scared I am.  I told Him I just don't know if I can do it anymore.  


In many of the trials of life we are told by well-meaning people to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel.  Infertility doesn't seem to be a situation where that kind of advice is helpful.  There is no "getting through" this because there may never be an "end" to this trial.  We may never become pregnant.  We may never know that we will never become pregnant.  We may never adopt. We may never know that we will never adopt. There is no amount of work we can do that can bring this dream to fruition and there is little reason to expect the ambiguity we wade through at this time will be miraculously parted like the Red Sea.  I just don't know but perhaps that's what God is asking of me now. To sit in the uncertainty, like He did in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying, "Father, if it be your will, let this cup pass from me."  Even though Christ knew he was called to suffer for humanity, He experienced ambiguity in the garden. He had to sit in the uncertainty of God's will, while his closest friends simply fell asleep. I have to believe that this unknowing- this being stuck in the land of uncertainty is part of a call to union with Christ. There's something a little bit easier about knowing what pain is coming your way- it's the anxiety associated with the unknown that I find the most debilitating. If Christ was called to suffer this anxiety, than why not me?  

Even the greatest works of art can look like a hot mess from the wrong angle

Today is our 3rd Anniversary. We are dealing with several very difficult issues- the evil one attacking our marriage in many ways- beyond infertility. I have been doubting, doubting, doubting God's plan for my life. Today, I spoke with a nurse practitioner at PPVI and learned that I had not one but 2 LUFs this cycle. This makes for at least 6 cycles of LUFs out of my 8 months post-surgery. The NP made it quite clear to me that this situation is quite "rare" even in the IF world and that the only treatments left to try cost thousands a month. I just wanted to share that I cried hysterically following my phone call with the NP but surprisingly even upon reflection, I don't think I cried out of sadness. Of course, there was some grief behind my tears, but more than anything, I think I cried from a place of awe, wonder and humility.

I've alluded to this before, but at the beginning of our IF journey God made it very clear to me we would be parents, first, through adoption. At this time our Reproductive Endocrinologist was telling us, I was healthy and we would conceive naturally within a year. I had every "rational" reason to be hopeful that we would soon be biological parents.

I told my spiritual director that I felt like I was getting so many signs from God about adoption, but I worried I was reading too much into things. He reminded me that God is always speaking to us but often our hearts are too hard to hear what he is saying. He encouraged me to be sensitive to the signs I was perceiving. Immediately following our meeting, I heard one of my favorite programs on our local Catholic radio station. Perhaps some of you have heard 'Glen's Story Corner' on Relevant Radio. I seldom get to hear it live because I'm usually at work when it airs. But this day was different. As I heard the usual intro tune, I quickly thanked God for the gift of hearing this delightful program that morning and said aloud, "this is my sign, if this is about parenting, infertility, anything... this is my sign... just let me know what our next steps are God." (Glen's story corner is a 2-3 minute program that tells parables that can be about literally anything). The story that day was about a little boy in an orphanage. I began to sob. God was telling me adoption was our next step, but it made no rational sense at the time.

Tonight I weep, because I am in awe of the perfect and beautiful "sense" God always makes. Today I got to experience the sensation of catching just a tiny glimpse of God's plan. Two years ago everyone thought I was crazy when I said adoption was the route for us. I see now with new clarity just why this is His plan for us and fall to my knees in wonder that He has revealed just a hint of the gorgeous masterpiece that is His plan for our lives. Thank you Jesus, for reminding me, again, that your plans are better than my dreams.

Unanswered prayers

I can't type those words 'unanswered prayers' without immediately hearing the country tune "...some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers." How true those words ring as I reflect upon my short time spent on this earth.  In high school despite being a relatively "normal" girl, I never had a boyfriend (until the last 3 months of senior year but that's for another post).  All my friends were dating and many in "serious" relationships.  I felt lonely, hopeless, unattractive- defective. How I prayed that God would just send me a boyfriend-someone to love me and care about me. Despite my pleading, Prince Charming never showed  during those 4 long years of high school.

I chose a University based on little more than intuition and a "good feeling." I was determined to surrender my obsessive focus on finding a man and focus on what our culture likes to call finding yourself.  During this time of "not caring about boys" I met my husband.  He pursued me.  He respected me.  He loved me.  He. agreed. to. wait. for. marriage. You see, at this point I was not practicing my faith and yet I passionately clung to the Catholic Church's teaching that sex was for marriage.  Looking back, I am so profoundly grateful that God didn't send me my much-longed-for-boyfriend back in high school.  I know I would have succumb to the pressure to "just do it" at that point in my life, if it was in the context of what my teenage mind viewed as a "serious relationship." Instead, God held out for a gift far greater than what I had in mind.  He gave me a husband not a boyfriend.  He gave me not just someone to love me but someone that would love me unconditionally. 

More recently, I faced the challenge of finding employment in my field.  I work in a very liberal profession yet I have many orthodox convictions.  I was always somewhat of a fish out of water in my college and grad-school courses, but I "just knew" I wanted to pursue this profession.  After graduation it seemed there were no jobs in sight. The jobs whose qualifications I did meet usually reported hiring someone that far exceeded their minimum qualifications. There were just too many qualified professionals looking for work.  But just like in high school it seemed -in my mind- that I was the only one who wasn't getting hired (from my grad school cohort).  I decided to take a job outside of my field while I waited for the right career opportunity to present itself.  I went on several traumatizing interviews.  I would get so nervous before an interview I wouldn't sleep for days. I'd obsessively research the organization and even more obsessively re-read entire chapters of text books pertaining to the potential job. I even tried using anti-anxiety meds to calm down the day of an interview.  None of this got me. any. where. During this time in my life, I went through a gradual return to my faith. I prayed novenas that I would get this job or that job.  Until one day the.perfect.job. seemed to fall out of the sky and into my lap.  The organization didn't even know their ad for an opening was still being run. They had already finished interviewing. They. still. wanted. to. meet. me.  I opted to ditch the anti-anxiety meds and instead prayed to the Holy Spirit for peace and guidance.  And then by an act of divine providence, I got the job! This was a job that would allow me to use my degree from my liberal field and still fulfill a mission that is at the core of my traditional values.  This was in every sense of the word- my dream job- although I never knew a job this perfect existed! And I never would have gotten it if I was otherwise occupied in one of the many other jobs I had so fervently prayed to get.

And now as I stare the 18th month of infertility in the face, I am tempted to think again, "but I'm the only one." Yes, it seems that babies are everywhere and that everyone (including long-term pill users) are showing up pregnant. I am tempted to think how much better my life would be if I just had my way.  I am tempted to justify to God the desires of my heart. But I know now- more than ever- that some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.  I know His plan for my life is beautiful and will bring forth many fruits if I cooperate with Him.  I think about Our Blessed Mother. What if she had told God no? Nevermind the threat of death she faced by becoming pregnant out of wedlock, what if she had said, "but God... I am supposed to marry this great guy- Joseph- and we hope to have many children together and...I really will be a good mother I want to have lots of kids not just one." We know that Mary was born without original sin. Her love of God and her desire to do His will was perfect.  We- carrying the stain of original sin- struggle to imitate Our Mother who so perfectly embraced the Father's plan.  As I struggle, it comforts me to know that God desires to bring about the conversion of many souls through my life- as he desires for the lives of all His children.  It comforts me to know that God has an important and divine plan for my life.  It shakes me to the core to realize that Our Mother said, "yes" and so allowed the world to receive our King.  How am I saying "no" to God by telling him directly or indirectly that my plans are better.  I know now, thanks to unanswered prayers, that His plans are better than my dreams.  Jesus I trust in you.

Fighting the battle from the city

The world tells us to do what makes us happy.  Hate the way you look?  Get plastic surgery. Marriage not meeting your expectations?  Get a divorce.  Don't like the way someone's treating you?  Tell them off- Real Housewive's style. The idea of sacrifice is lost on our modern 'enlightened' society.  Life's all about doing what makes us happy after all.  And so we pursue happiness.  We work longer hours to make enough money for the bigger house and the nicer car.  We put-off marriage until we've lived our 20's to the fullest- taking advantage of our 'freedom' by staying out every weekend until 2am and dating (and sleeping) around. When we do decide to settle down, we delay child-bearing until we have achieved the success we yearn for in our careers.  When something doesn't go our way- when we're laid off from the company we've given the last 5 years of our lives to or when our spouse fails to meet our expectations- we tend to view these things as assaults on our happiness.  "I deserve to be happy," we tell ourselves.

And so for those of us struggling with infertility life can seem like an endless punishment.  Babies -who don't call us mommy -appear to be EVERYWHERE.  Our Facebook newsfeeds slap us in the face each morning when that slutty girl we knew in highschool announces her 3rd pregnancy or our husband's (un-wed) ex proudly displays her baby-bump. The temptation toward self-pity is very real.  "Why me?" we think.

What if instead of asking "why me?" we asked, "why not me?"  What if instead of focusing on being happy, we focused on being holy.  I recently read that a Christian who isn't willing to suffer for virtue is like a soldier who desires a hero's welcome after remaining in the city while the army fights the battle in the country.  Christians who desire to be patient, loving, humble and meek but who question "why me?" every time God allows some suffering into their life are like the soldier who wishes to fight the battle from the city.  If we desire to be holy, we need to develop virtue.  We develop virtue by embracing the suffering God permits in our life and allowing his grace to flow through us.  We cannot grow in holiness or virtue by running from suffering. He who wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross and follow me (Matt 16:24-25).

And so, as I grieve for the 12th month, the dreams that were not realized, the child that is not in my arms, the barren womb that feels like a rock within me- a constant reminder of what may never be- I feel the warm embrace of an all loving, all merciful Father.  I know the joy of embracing and accepting His will for me.