This blog is small glimpses into my heart and soul - attempts to be transparent with friends, and sometimes, to myself. This is my safe place, where I can come and be purely Ness.

Family: If you found your way here, please do me a favor and don't poke through my closets, ok?

Monday, March 14, 2011

Today's Story

I've only just started talking about this to people today, because I haven't really known what to say. I think I might be pregnant. But - I really don't know for sure. My cycle was really different this go round and Boy and I decided just to take a test, even though we didn't think there was even a chance of a positive at that point - if I was pregnant, I was, at most, a week past ovulation. (I normally know when I ovulate due to intense pain, but still hadn't experienced it yet. I had all the lead up to ovulation symptoms, but then nothing. I figured there was a chance I slept through it this time, since I've been so exhausted lately.) So, we test... and nothing. Ok, expected as much. Assuming that something delayed ovulation, and I'm still waiting.
A hour or two later, I come back to the bathroom and take another look at the test (know I'm not alone in this), there faintest of faint, is a line. Well, technically this is not supposed to count. They say not to read the test after ten minutes - evaporation lines can happen, but my experience with these tests have never shown evaporation lines. We decided to try another one - same deal. I'm beginning to realize that I'd been experiencing a few things that generally only happen to me when pregnant - pain while nursing, leg cramps, etc. At the same time, a dull ache begins in my lower back, the kind of ache I get in the days before I miscarry. Now I'm just in a cloud. Am I  pregnant? Not? Pregnant and going to miscarry again? How much of this is simply psychological? I mean, the back pain started the moment I showed Boy the faint line.
Ok, let's give it a couple of days and try again. This time we decide to have have Boy do a test, too. A control group of sorts. Two hours later mine shows a faint line, his nothing. One hour later, his shows a line even fainter than mine. I say line, but they're really more shadows. If it's possible to feel more confused, I do. I tested twice more since then, two days apart each time, and gotten the same results. I know that "officially" these are not positive tests, but then why has my body felt this way for the past week and a half? But if they're positive why did Boy's test turn up a line? But, if they're just evaporation lines, why have these test never shown one in the past? (Believe me, I've checked.)
Here's one of my biggest problems right now - I don't know if there is any way for me to confirm that I'm not pregnant. I feel like I am, or was, anyways. I could be miscarrying and have it start the same day I would normally expect my period. On the other hand, I may never be able to confirm more than this that I am pregnant. I may never get a stronger test line, and, well, a miscarriage could start the same day I would normally expect my period. For some, this might not be a big deal. Don't think about it too deeply and when the period shows up on time, or a day or two late, assume that's it and move on. No pregnancy, no worries. This is basically what my sister said she'd do, when I tried to talk to her about it. But see, it just doesn't work that easily for me. I've had too many babies this way. If there is a baby there, they're mine. They're important to me. I want to name them, remember them. How do I do that if I'm not entirely sure they exist? But, how do I not do that, if I think they do? To not name them, write their dates down with all their siblings, tell my parents... I'm not acknowledging them, I'm ignoring them, disowning them. I can't do that to my baby! On top of that, how do I tell my family? "Yeah, so I'm pretty sure I was pregnant and miscarried, so I named them            ." My one sister has basically already said she wouldn't take it seriously.
My heart aches. I hate waiting periods. I hate not knowing what is going on (with pretty much anything). When I tested this morning, Boy and I watched the pink flow across the viewer, and for a minute saw a line come into sight. I was so happy. I knew it didn't mean that I wasn't miscarrying again, but it meant I could know. I could be sure of the life there and I'd know where I stood. But then, as the pink faded away to leave the control line (dark and strong), the test line faded too. Again, it's shadow showed up two hours later, but I still don't know what that means...

After that first shadow, I panicked. The familiar stab of fear shot through my soul. Pregnant? What if I lose them? What if I lose them? I cried and prayed, occasionally on my knees, hoping that God would see my earnestness and my humility before him. As much as I was asking him to let my baby (if one currently existed, or when the next one did) live, I was also asking how I would get through this again. Asking for simply the strength to handle it, to handle a pregnancy and the fear that would go with that; to handle another miscarriage, if that's what life held for me. I searched scripture - mainly the Psalms, like so many troubled souls before me - for comfort. I no longer search for words on what the outcome will be, or reassurance of the outcome I want. I simply want to find strength to get me through whatever happens. I want to find peace and the assurance that God is actively loving me no matter what my circumstances are telling me.
Eventually, the frantic, on edge feeling wore down, and I felt, not quite peace, but enough calm to move on with my daily life. Since then, God continues to give me a sense of calm about it all. It's not constant, but the emotions are more sadness and confusion than fear and panic. For that I'm thankful. I don't know what will happen when I finally get a reliable positive test, or the pre-peroid/possible miscarriage starts, but today I'm holding on.

All of that huge post is has been my life's background chatter for the past week. Today has added more to the pile. It's a very gray day here today. The sun is shining (thank God for sunshine) outside, but inside our house is a gray cloud. Last year, FIL had a malignant melanoma removed from the back of his shoulder. Today it was confirmed that the cancer had spread to his liver. As of yet, we don't have a definite prognosis or treatment plan, but it doesn't look good. Boy doesn't know how to process the likelihood of his father's life ending. A few hours after that news, Boy received a rejection letter from the last church he had an application out too, the last church with a position available that fit him and our family. Now what?
Matthew 6:32-34 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

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