It's Break Time

So I was gone from Twitter for a few weeks. I didn't really intend to do that, it just worked out that way. And honestly, it was good for me, because as much as I love Twitter, it can be kind of consuming and energy draining. I wasn't being tossed by the waves of ups and downs of two hundred other lives - although I know I missed some big events that I feel sad not being there for - there was enough waves in my life to deal with. I wasn't filling every spare second with catching up - although I'm so totally out of the loop now - and I had time to read several books, and spent my evenings with my husband instead of with him and a long list of people, many of whom I don't even know their first names.
Don't get me wrong - I love Twitter. These people have been there for me when there was no one else. They've understood me in a way that my "in real life" friends and family can't. And they allow a certain anonymity that grants the ability to share some of the dark spots and hidden parts of my spirit that few others get to see. They're a safe place.
So I love Twitter and the freedom I had from Twitter. Somehow I need to find a new balance, to keep the connections without letting it rule my life.
And I do have connections. At least a few. Part of the reason my absence was this long was feeling like no one missed me, and what was the point of coming back, if no one even noticed I was gone? But apparently at least a few did, so - here is why I took a break and what was going on with me while I was gone.

The why -
First, my phone broke over four weeks ago, the screen shattering when it was knocked out of my hand onto a concrete patio stone. We sent it to be fixed, but they keep having to wait for parts, so I've been completely without a phone since then. When we made a getaway to the cottage for a few days, there was basically only Boy's phone, so it just made sense to completely disconnect for a little bit. It was good and I just keep on extending the break, especially since my days seemed to be extra full. There were a few extra things on my schedule and we spent some time preparing for a visit with friends we hadn't seen in six years, and then, enjoying that visit! It was so fantastic to spend time with them again and meet their children that had been born since they moved away.

The what -
Before I left I shared that my older sister found out she was pregnant, which meant both my sisters were, building their families as they wished, and now, doing it at the same time, sharing something I might not be able to do again. I didn't think about the possibility of it being worse, but it was when she miscarried the next week. My heart was totally crushed to hear her pain, to know what she was going through, and especially to be so far away and not able to come and take care of her. And it was weird to feel this tiny bit of relief that my best friend and supporter now knew what I'd been through, even though I would have done anything in my power to keep her from experiencing that.

Next - I had realized that my timing had been off in this past cycle and there was a chance I could have gotten pregnant. I'd love to be excited about that possibility, but really I was just terrified. I'm so not ready to handle another miscarriage yet. And as an aside, I was worried about how to tell my sister after her just going through a loss. It's hard enough months later - the week after? OW.
So, I was in that place where everything is interpreted as a pregnancy symptom, and I was having trouble not freaking out on a daily basis as I got closer and closer to the time when I would find out. After having a big break down the day before my period was due, Boy decided we were going to test. I was so grateful to him. I couldn't bring myself to "give in," feeling like I was wasting a test, wasting money, being weak not able to wait until the next day when my body should tell me for sure. I needed that permission he gave to just do it and find out what the answer was.
When the test was absolutely, completely, unmistakably negative, I broke into tears. Sadness? Nope. Just relief. So much relief. I HATE that. Hate it. I hate that I'm relieved not to be pregnant. Not even a slight hint of sadness over it. I want to have a baby, to carry to term, to give birth. So so much. But far more times than not, pregnancy is only the beginning of a miscarriage for me. Being pregnant just means pain, heartache, grief. So, relief. I can't handle it again right now.

A few days later, my younger sister had her ultrasound and found out that she was having a girl. Her first daughter, the second granddaughter. So now both of my sisters have their boys and a baby girl. It made my heart hurt. I wouldn't trade my son for a whole handful of daughters, and I'm not sure if I can explain, but I've been waiting for my daughter since my first pregnancy. We've had two girls name picked out almost since we got married nine years ago. I'm not going to be able to use them both, and maybe I won't ever use either of them. I may never have a baby girl that I get to keep and hold. But there is nothing to do but say congratulations and try to be happy for her. So I did.
She made her Facebook pregnancy announcement that night with an album of bump and ultrasound pictures, each one an ache in my heart. One ultrasound picture was the announcement of the baby's name as well. Middle name is our older sister's first name. Dang, it still hurts. I mean, my older sister is fantastic, she deserves the honor, but it's just this permanent reminder that my younger sister picks her over me. That our relationship isn't awesome and she will probably never think me worthy of such honor. Even knowing she wouldn't likely ever use my name for a child, this conversation was probably the worst part of it all - Me: Congrats, again. It's a pretty name. [what else am I supposed to say, right?] Her: Thanks. I couldn't decide and I was worried I may never have another girl HA, [boys run in her husband's family] so we just used all of our favorites!
Ow ow ow ow. To give her credit, I don't think that she has any idea how hurtful and insulting that was. None of this is intentionally trying to hurt me. She's just kind of self-absorbed sometimes. Which isn't really that much better, but she's not mean, just thoughtless occasionally.

So. Normally, I'd have Twitter to share all of that with, but I just couldn't bring myself to piecemeal it the way I would need to to share it there, or to go over it multiple times, or even just the energy to write it out at that time. But life has been emotionally challenging, and there is more that I'm working through now which I'm not quite ready to put out there yet. Some time later this week maybe.

I'm so ready for a break. From emotional upheaval this time, instead of from Twitter.

My Treasures

Feels like I should be writing a new post. I mean, I've been telling myself for months now that I should write, because it's been so long. I've only written four posts this year, and the last one was May and it wasn't even a real post. And of course, now I've got something really truly to write about, but somehow the drive just isn't there. The emotion that usually pushes me to put something into words is missing right now. I'm just kind of, well numb isn't really the right word for it... cold. Like I'm shutting it off. I don't want to get into right now. Or maybe I really am calloused to it at this point. Except I know that's not true. I guess I'm just temporarily hardening myself.
But for some reason, I'm sitting here writing and I know it's going to come out sooner or later. I'm not sure that anyone who reads this blog doesn't actually know already, because I think all my readers are on Twitter, but somehow it feels like I still need to keep things up to date. For my own sense of order I suppose.
And crap, I just thought of their name, "Nima" and the shell is starting to crack and the tears are filing my eyes for the dozenth time today.
I think it was a girl. Boy thinks it was a boy. Neither of us will ever know for sure in this life. Whoever they are, they are now safely with their brothers and sisters. I know that Nima probably knows more about them than I do at this point, but I'm glad I took the time to tell "her" about them while her life was still with me. I know JJ looks out for them all, not that's there's anything to look out for over there, but he's a good big brother, a true, gentle leader's spirit. Anastasios and Aliento are good brothers, too. One strong, quiet and deep, like a warrior, and one full of giggles taking delight butterflies that land nearby and energetic puppies that cover your face in slobber. Sayuri is full of energy with a strong spirit and a great mothering instinct, just like her aunt, who I'm sure she looks like. Tacey - gentler, a bit dreamy, but with a heart overflowing with love. My children who I've never had a chance to meet, but about whom I feel I've received tiny glimpses of who they are. 
And now there is Nima. I don't know much about you yet, but oh how I love you. From the moment I knew of you, I was your mama. I will always be your mama and I will always love you. I'm sorry that I didn't get to meet you, to see what you look like, to learn all about your personality, to kiss you, teach you, cheer you on, hold you when you cry. I know that now you are full of life, of love, of happiness. You will dance and play with your brothers and sisters, pick flowers, chase shadows, climb trees, all the wonderful things childhood should be made of. You will never know any pain or sorrow and your life will be truly perfect because you will never know any barrier keeping you from the pure, undiluted love of Jesus. There will never be anything that will come between you and him, no reason that will ever make you doubt or question him, nothing that keeps you from truly knowing who he is or how very much he loves you.
I'm so sad that I never got to meet you all, that you were gone before your bodies even finished forming, but when I think of you together, in that perfect place, I can't help but smile at how happy, how free, you all  are and I'm so glad you have each other. You are truly my treasures in heaven.

Words for Mother's Day

I know that many churches aren't good at dealing with infertiles in their midst, and Mother's Day is especially hard. I was impressed and happy to read this in the this weeks's newsletter that our pastor sends out:

To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you 
To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you 
To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you 
To those who experienced loss this year through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you 
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is. 
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you 
To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you 
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you 
To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you 
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst 
To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you 
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you 
This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you. We honour you. We love you.

From me to all my lovely friends - may this Mother's Day treat you kindly, no matter where you find yourselves on this list.


A quick web search leads me to Amy at "The Messy Middle". I'm not entirely certain, but it does seem that she actually wrote this piece. Thank you, Amy, for your thoughts and heart.

Getting Ready

Every time we take another step towards being ready to try to conceive, my stress levels take another bump and I spiral a little farther. Everything becomes a bit overwhelming, and I'm wondering what the heck I'm thinking considering doing this again, especially since I'm so obviously failing at everything already on my plate.

I ended up doing another panel of blood tests when my current doctor finally got all of my records from my previous one. There were a lot of clotting factors that she wanted to check that hadn't been done yet. I have the result from all but one of the tests so far, and they are all normal. I should hopefully have the last result in the next few days and that's it - testing is done, there is no where else to go from here except ttc.  I'm currently on cycle day five, so that means we are facing this possibility in the next week. Those of you who saw my meltdown yesterday may understand some of why that happened. It's been two years since we decided to try to have another baby, and a year since we stopped after four losses. Getting back on this horse is pretty fear inducing.
After my initial collapse, and sobbing out all my feelings of failing at life, and not feeling capable of handling the things already in my life, while Boy tried really hard to be a good listener, which then led to a little nap, because I was oh so exhausted, we had a long talk. About our family, how we really like the way it is right now, but how I still have moments where I don't feel like it's finished, how I wonder if it's really fair to put everyone through the stress of ttc, and possibly more losses, or pregnancy after loss, and then the newborn sleepless nights and months of teething, and getting Bug to adjust to a new sleeping arrangement, and having to share Mama and "sidey," and going through three years old again, and ohmygosh, is it really what I should be doing?! And how can I choose this if I'm the only one in the house that wants a baby? Cause Bug says he wants a baby, but he really has no idea what that will mean to his life and the single-childness that he's come to know over the past four years. And Boy has always said that he's perfectly content with how our family is now, and he's fine with trying for another one, but it was basically for me, because I wanted one. Which has been ok in the past, but at times, especially now, feels like he doesn't really want another baby, and would prefer if we just stopped this craziness cause one child was ideal for him. So how do I keep going if he would rather we didn't and is only doing it for me? He tells me my needs and wants are important, too, but I guess this is something I struggle with and it just feels so unfair to put myself above them on something this big, difficult, and life changing.
Boy tells me that he can't put that on me. He can't say that he wants another baby, because if it doesn't work  he doesn't want me to feel guilty for not being able to give him another child. I know that this is a likely thing, so I understand his point of view. He also talks about the other side of it and not wanting to say that we shouldn't do this, because he doesn't want me to resent him in ten years because we didn't try. But, as we continue to work through all of this, he makes this statement, "I want another baby."
I knew I wanted him to be with me on this, or to at least know that he really wouldn't prefer to have just one child, but I didn't realize how much difference it would make until it was there. I feel more freedom in this now. I can go forward on this now, knowing that I'm not pushing something on him that he doesn't really want, and that he wants this with me. It's still hard for either of us to feel with certainty that the risks of going ahead are preferable to just stopping and staying where we are - I mean, if we are just going to go through losses and pain and not end up with a baby, then that doesn't really outweigh just staying as we are - but we both would prefer to have two children in our family. For me, this is a joyful thing. I'm so glad that I can share this with my Boy. I know this could be a very hard journey, but now I feel a bit more ready to start it.

I'm Not Ok

I'm not ok. I know that I've not been doing very well for the past few days, but now I'm beginning to wonder if it goes deeper than that. The idea is kind of scary - I'm broken enough, I don't need mental/emotion issues on top of what's already there - and then what do I do if there are bigger problems? I just don't know if I can handle this.
Next week, I go for blood work to see if the thyroid medication I'm taking is bringing my TSH levels down to levels that are healthier for pregnancy. This is the one thing we've found to try for my unexplained recurrent losses, so if the levels are good we start "actively" (you know what I mean) trying to conceive again. Basically right away. For the first time in over a year.
I'm really, really scared.
Even though I've been doing my best not to obsess about it, and spend great chunks of time not thinking about it, it's getting to me. I feel like I'm entirely made up of stress and emotions. There is this weight in my chest that is just pulling me down. I'm this weird combination of numb and panic.
Every now and then I have a moment of calm and clarity. I feel ok, "I can do this. Even if I have another miscarriage, it will be horrible, but I can make it through. I've done this before. I will survive." But mostly, the possibility freaks me out. At one point I had hope that something would work, would make a difference to allow my body to carry a baby to term, but lately all I can feel is that it's just not enough. Tinkering with my thyroid is just not enough to make a healthy environment for a baby. How could something so slight be the whole reason that they keep dying? How could this tiny adjustment be a fix? It's not going to be enough, and I'm either going to lose another baby, or just not get pregnant at all. The hope is so small, that it's almost non-existent.
Should I give up? I ask this now and then, and I know that somewhere I have my breaking point, somewhere is the place where I have to just stop before it consumes me. But, I can't do it. Not yet anyway. I'm driven by a need for another child. A need to give my Bug a sibling. I know many people choose to have only one child, and I don't for a second think there is anything wrong with that, but for me, I feel like I'm doing my son a huge injustice if I can't give him a brother or a sister. Like, I'm keeping him from one of life's great experiences. I'm sure some of this comes from growing up in a family of five kids (not always roses and ice cream certainly, but my sister is one of my closest, most trusted friends), since Boy - an only child - doesn't feel this way at all. I feel like my family is incomplete. I've already given up my ideal of having four children, I just can't see it as an option anymore, but to concede to having only one? I can't. let. go. It certainly doesn't help that lately Bug has taken to telling us that he wants a baby sister, mentioning all the things he'll share with her, and occasionally asking, "Is that our baby?" when he sees another little one in life or pictures. I keep telling him we are going to try to make another baby, but it doesn't always work out; but of course, he doesn't understand any of this at all. I mean, despite our trying to explain how we hope to have a baby, he still doesn't understand that we can't just pick one out of a picture, or take home the little girl from church.
So I'm kind of a mess. I'm trying to focus on positive possibilities, but it's so hard. The negative ones are screaming at me.

This morning, Boy had his weekly meeting with the senior pastor. They talk about work, and life, and keep in touch on all things important. Today Boy shared what was going on with us right now, and how we were close to trying again. I don't know the full discussion, but there was mention about how I was handling it all, and SP wondered if I had fully processed my grief from all my losses. When Boy mentioned this to me, at first I was just pissed off. "How does any one else have the right to say I'm not ok? He doesn't even know me that well, he has no idea how I'm doing!" And honestly, I like this man. He's been nothing but kind and helpful to us since before we moved here. So maybe my immediate defensiveness is not really a good sign.
As I talked with Boy and began to think about it, some memories came to mind. Over the past several months there have been more than a few losses with all of my Twitter friends. With all of them, I feel great sympathy and heartache for those going through the loss. But, there have been a few that have shared starting with a tweet much like this, "I'm spotting." Reading those tweets makes my stomach plummet, my chest constrict, and my spirit scream, "No, no, no! Not again."
Wow, even writing those words, I can feel my heart beat faster, my breathing get shallower. As I keep writing, the tears threaten and I can remember exactly how I felt every time the first signs of pink showed on the toilet paper - that frozen panic fear.
See, this doesn't seem like a good thing. I think maybe I'm really not ok. But, what do I do about it? The idea of trying to deal with another problem is just overwhelming. I've already got so many things in my life that I'm trying to figure out, how do I handle one more?
And - it's March. The weather is warming up, Spring is trying to sprung, green things are growing in my garden. It's the time of year where I've always felt myself coming to life again, felt energy renewing after winter and the slight depression that it brings. It was always a time of joy for me. Until I lost my first baby as the crocuses bloomed. Three years after that I had my second loss at the very end of February, and then a year later had my fifth loss, also during the month of March. I love Spring and finally feeling the sunshine on my face, but it brings waves of grief, bittersweet memories of seeing the first flowers bloom, celebrating my first baby, not knowing it was all going to end in a few days. This season now brings me an odd combination of joy and sorrow. Maybe some of what I'm going through right now is simply part of all of this. Maybe this year, this season will bring renewal, and a bit of healing through new life, not just outside, but maybe also within my womb. Maybe this year will bring redemption to March.

New Year, Same Old Fear

Last year about this time, I wrote a post on the new year and feeling skeptical of what it would hold, worried that it would be as bad as the year before it. As this new year is staring me in the face, I'm not sure I feel much differently. 2010 was a year of loss, 2011 was a year of waiting (waiting on doctors, waiting on tests, waiting on answers, waiting on a job), and now 2012 is here and we have a job, a doctor, and what very little answer they could give us. So now it's time to try again.
There are moments when I'm excited and hopeful, but it's hard not to feel the fear. I want another little one. I've actually always wanted four. I thought four would be pretty perfect - avoid the middle child issue, and if it worked to have two boys and two girls, everyone would have a brother and everyone would have a sister. Perfect. In the past few months it's been concreted in my mind that our family will most likely never have more than two children. It's so sad to me. It's been a very hard thing to come to terms with, but I don't think I can go through this again. The losses, the fear, the anxiety. I'll persevere until I have another baby (or until I just can't anymore), and then that's it. I'm done. It breaks my heart. Even if we could figure out what exactly was wrong and how to fix it, I will be getting past the age where I wanted to be having children. I know I'm not that old, but I think I imagined that by 35 I'd be done, not part way through.
Anyway...... Fear. Fear is mostly what I feel now. Not overwhelming, not yet, but there. Whenever I think about this year ahead, I'm a bit afraid. We are still figuring out our new life in this new place, with Boy's new job, figuring out what things look like here - how much time will work take, how stressful will it be, what kind of schedule will Bug and I figure out, who will be our friends here, will we have friends? It's all a bit unsettled still with uncertainty having it's own small factor of fear, but the biggest thing we face right now is trying again. Trying to get pregnant and stay pregnant. We tried for over a year with no success, and as each pregnancy seemed to get shorter in duration, I've wondered if I've gotten to the place where I will have trouble getting pregnant at all.
We have no real answers for all our losses. Despite all the tests, there can be found nothing wrong with me. Except something isn't working properly or we wouldn't be here.  Right now our RE is recommending that I try thyroid meds, because my "high, but still normal" levels may or may not be a contributing factor. So that's it. I go on some drug, hope that it makes a difference, and dive in. Just a little bit terrifying. I don't know what I face this year. Will it be loss? Will it actually be pregnancy, which I will never again be able to get through without feeling varying levels of fear, from just a bit anxious to paralyzingly terrified? Will it take us months to get pregnant, worrying, afraid that somehow I've come to the place where I can't do it at all?
Oh Jesus, save me from the fear. This is not the life I want to lead. I don't want my moments to be wrapped up in the unknown and what it might mean to me. I want to live freely, vibrantly, expectantly. Trusting in Christ, God's love for me, has always been hard. Some of my experiences have made it harder still. I have not completely healed from all of that, from the pain of loss, and the bitterness it can bring, but I know that I'm not done yet. I am closer to Jesus than I was last year, and I believe this year will be bring me closer still. I have been able to recognize his love in my life more clearly, and I've felt as though those nerve endings that connected me to the Spirit have been slowly reviving. I imagine that it's similar to what someone with temporary paralysis might feel as things begin to heal. A tingling at first, ever so slight movement, a long slow process before full feeling, mobility, and strength are returned. We're early stages yet, but enough to give hope, to let me know that things are far from over.
So I'm afraid. But, I'm not content to let that be all. I am moving forward in my fear, trying and figuring out what it means to trust Jesus when nothing is certain.
Right now, the word I see what I look ahead to this year is "fear," but hopefully, when we get to the end, I will be able to look back with something much more positive, like "healing" "renewal" "strength" "comfort" or even "baby."

The Not So Much of an Answer Answer

Results time. All the testing done, from the 17 vials of blood, to the horrible biopsy, to the not so horrible sonohysterography, and the other blood tests in between. I felt ill as I headed to the appointment today, nervous about what we would hear.

It really was a bit anti-climatic as we sat there listening to, "You're healthy. The biopsy came back negative. The sono didn't show anything wrong."

As it turns out the only things that have shown up are some slightly elevated hormone levels and a TSH (thyroid) that was on the high end of normal. A lower TSH level is more ideal for pregnancy, and the hormone levels are often connected to poly-cystic ovarian syndrome although I don't really have any other symptoms. Dr said she would recommend some cycle monitoring to keep an eye on the hormone levels to see what they were doing over a longer period of time, possibly thyroid medication, and then monitoring and progesterone once I got pregnant to give the baby an optimal chance. 

There is one test that we don't have results from yet, and that's the genetic testing. It is possible that those answers will come back and will reveal an issue that will have been the main cause of all our losses, and that will be daunting since as far as I know there won't be anything we can do about it. I might be wrong - I haven't looked into it that much, but what do you do if your genes are screwed up?

Since we are moving next week, Dr is going to give us a referral to a clinic in our new city, and we will see about pursuing some of these options. I'm still not really sure how I feel about all of this - the meds make me nervous, and knowing that there is still a pretty decent risk of miscarriage doesn't really help. I'm really not much farther ahead than I was before, and I want to be able to try again, I want to have another baby, but what if there are just more losses ahead for me? What do I do with that? How much more can I handle before I give up? How successful would all of this be and how much would it screw with me on the way?
There is so much going on right now, so I will wait until the new year to focus on all of this and figure out what exactly to do from here. 

Fall Frenzy

 Is there anyone out there who doesn't have a crazy life? Because mine just seems to go from craziness to craziness. There is so much going on and it's only going to get worse over the next weeks. So I know that despite really only having a tiny bit of time to write tonight, that moments like this will get harder to come by. This will be my attempt to get down at least the main details of everything that's going on, even though there is so much going in my head that I want to write and share, too.

Part One
My last post was all about how we were waiting on word for a job that Boy really wants. If you aren't following my Twitter feed, or just missed it - he got the job! It's looking like it will be an amazing job for him and an amazing place for our family. I'm pretty sure I'm very happy with it, but for some reason, our excitement over it has been a bit lacking. I think it may be that we are somewhat overwhelmed with all we have to do and I know Boy is feeling anxious about this new and more intense position. Also, saying goodbye to family and my home town certainly carries it's own sadness. Hopefully, once we get there and start unpacking and meeting people, we will have that enthusiasm come back!
Things were greatly dampened as the job offer came in when, it did in fact, include the condition that we only bring two cats. I wept and sobbed and decided along with my Boy, that this is what we would have to do. We needed this job and the hope and future that came with it.
While still very emotional, I asked Boy to send a request begging (yes, I used that word) them to please reconsider. I had little hope they would do so though, and began to inquire with friends if anyone knew of a good home for our poor kitties. I was especially worried about one girl, knowing it would be very hard to find a home for her and that we might have to make the decision to put her down. She's a skittish little girl who doesn't like anyone to come near her, pick her up, or generally exist. Oh, and she tends to pee on things. Who wants a cat like that? (Heck, most of the time we don't even want a cat like that, but she's our cat, she's part of the family, and that's what you do.)
Then - surprise. They really did consider our words and think about whether they could change this condition. And they did. We could bring them all! They did place a few conditions on that, but none of it was more than we offered to do in the first place. I am so very relieved to be free of the burden and sadness of finding good homes for four kitties. I am very grateful that we get to keep our family - and that I don't have to try to explain to Bug where are kitties are going.
Now to be completely honest (cause this is my honest space), it can be a huge pain to have so many cats. After spending a few days adjusting my mind to what it would be like to have only two cats, I am feeling anew the burden of six. Transporting them, vet bills, expensive food, keeping them out of bedrooms, cleaning up hairballs or vomit every couple of days, and of course, the joy of coming across something that has been peed on. I disconnected from them a bit during that time, and while I still love them and would hate to say goodbye, I can see how much easier our life would be without so many, and I'm closer to being willing to let go of them than I've ever been before. I'm not sure I would openly admit this to anyone in real life, but there it is.
Everything else on this storyline is going well. We put our house on the market and had an offer accepted, conditions waived, in one week. Our realtor said it had been a long time, since he'd seen a deal come together this quickly and smoothly. Just another confirmation we are on the right road.
We hired a U-Haul, the biggest they have, and then worried that we still wouldn't fit, so we got a trailer for it too. Boy was pretty anxious about driving this and happened to mention it to our new pastor/boss. He found someone to drive the six hours down here with him, in order to drive the truck back up the next day. How amazing is that? And I think this is only the first sign of what a great church family this is going to be.
We seem to be doing well with packing, as the boxes pile up to the ceiling, and it looks like we will be on track to be ready before we need to start loading the truck! (not always the case for us) We do have a few things going on that make this a bit more challenging for us though.

Part Two
For over a year now, I have been moving towards trying to find some answers as to why I'm having so much trouble carrying a baby. It took months to get in to see an OB/GYN, and if you've been reading, you know how much of a disaster that turned out to be. After that, I knew I needed to take greater measures, and I contacted a clinic in Toronto. I was still pretty nervous that I would get all the way down there and they would give me the same, "sorry, can't help you," that I'd already heard, but even on the phone they sounded friendly and professional, and I was assured more than once that my own experiences and home pregnancy tests would be taken seriously.
My appointment finally rolled around this past week. We did the 90 minute drive while my phone chirpped with the never ending, ever so valuable support from twitter friends, and I worried that it would be a huge gaffe taking Bug into a fertility clinic, despite the fact that I had been told that was just fine. We had a bit of trouble finding the clinic in the huge building, but with a bit of help, we arrived on time. I was immensely grateful to see that not only was it ok to bring a little one, but it was also expected, as Bug immediately spotted the a children's area off to the side.
Meeting with this doctor was like night and day from my last experience. She was quiet spoken, professional, friendly, had the ability to listen, took the time to explain things, allowed me time to ask questions, and most importantly of all, told me my early losses did indeed count in the puzzle of my fertility. She didn't necessarily know what they meant, might not be able to figure it out, but they were important and she was going to see what she could find.
She heard my story and then took me step by step through what she wanted to do, pausing to make sure I followed along and agreed with everything.  The first thing we did was blood work. I counted and they took seventeen vials of blood from me! I've done blood work before, but definitely never that much at a time. Next  week I go back down for an endometrial biopsy. She explained it as doing a pap, but going deeper to get a tissue sample. Since I really don't like doing paps, and have never had one that didn't hurt, I'm really not looking forward to this. I have two more blood work requisition forms and will have to call later to book a sonohysterography - an ultrasound where they use a bit of saline to expand your uterus to get a better look inside. Also not looking forward to that.
She's been very understanding of our imminent move and has worked to get as much of this done before we are four hours away from the clinic. It's making our days that much busier and giving me that much more stress, but I'm appreciative of her efforts to take care of us.
At the end of this month, maybe we will not only have a new home, a new city, and a new job; maybe we will also have some answers, some hope, and some help, giving us a chance to add another precious little one to this precious little family of ours.


If anyone has any info, tips, or encouragement on these procedures I'm looking at, please share! I'm quite intimidated by them and will welcome anything that would help them go smoothly.

The Weight of the Wait

I'm not sure I've ever had so many migraines in such a short period before. Every day I feel like I'm a little heavier, a little more weighed down. The stress is pushing me into the ground.

Five weeks ago we drove six hours to do a three day interview with a church, an associate pastor position for Boy. It went fantastic. The church felt comfortable and familiar, the house provided with the position felt good and fitting, the people felt like friends and family. Boy received compliments on his preaching and positive reviews on leading the service. Their priorities fit with ours. Their style of service keeps the children in until it's time for the sermon - a rare find and very important to us. Their theology meshes with ours and has actually helped Boy define some things. He says he didn't know before that he was (insert this church's denomination). Except for the fact that it's at least six hours away from all our immediate family, it looks like the potentially perfect church for us.
The high from that weekend only lasted so long though, because then we had to wait. And wait. And wait. And we are still waiting to hear. They had another candidate they wanted to interview and he and his family came a month after us. Now they have to decide who they think will be the best person for the job and for their church, and we get to wait. Is there anything so wearing as waiting? I'm not sure getting a negative answer is worse than waiting and dreading a negative answer. Especially when it feels like your last chance. Boy has been searching for a job for almost a year and our time is running out.
To add to the stress, the pastor sent an email last week asking about our cats and how "non-negotiable" they were. I think they're nervous about all our babies in the house after the previous residents left the (relatively small) carpeted area smelling like cat pee. I get that, but our house rarely smells like pee, and when it does, I hunt it down until it's GONE. There are few things more humiliating for me than to have people walk into my house and have it smell. I could just die. So anyways, we said we would repair any damages done out of pocket, give them a deposit if they wanted it, and would even replace the smelly carpet on our dime. I'm desperately hoping that it's enough, because if they come back and say they want us, but the cats can't come, I will break. I just don't think I can do it.
My sister says, "You aren't willing to give them up to be where God wants you to be?" First, thanks for the support. Second, I don't think I am. It's just too hard. These cats are part of my family and in a strange way, they are all tied up in my losses and my faith. I don't know how to let go of them. Maybe it makes me a bad Christian. Maybe it makes God disappointed in me (as my childhood picture of God would be). Maybe it will cost us a really great job with a really decent house in a time where we really can't afford it. I don't know. The one truth I know, is that God loves me. He loves me even if I can't make big sacrifices "for him." If I hold my cats tight, and we manage to thwart something big and miraculous and fantastic that God wants to do - he still loves me. I'm hoping that love means that whatever plans he has for us, whatever good he's working for us, that that includes this part of our family, these animals that are so close to my heart and so much a part of my life. I don't know really. I'm still just figuring out who God is and what he wants. The only thing I've got - he loves me.
So, I'm pretty familiar with the "be anxious about nothing" verse, cause you know, I'm working on it, but seriously, never been my strong point. I come from a long line of worriers. I really don't want to be like one older lady I know, who literally worries herself sick, like, put herself in the hospital sick. I'm hoping by that age that I've somehow figured out how to just trust God and let things rest in his hands, but I'm not sure I'm making much progress yet. It always the wait that kills me. I don't do well in waits. Once I know what is happening, I can usually handle it. I have seen God's hand in our lives and know that we have never been without what we need. We've always had a place to live and food on the table. Should this job not work out, I know I can trust in that. But, I'm still scared and stressed.
One of the church leaders called Boy last night to ask a few questions, so we know he's still in the running, and he seemed to think that we would know by the end of the week. Our wait may finally be coming to a close. Hoping and praying that this will be the place for us. A place to call home, a church family that feels like family, and a position where Boy can shine in the way I know he was meant to.
In the meantime, here's hoping the migraines will leave me alone.

A New Thing

Several years ago, I finally noticed that my life was not what it should be. I was depressed and I needed help. I wish I had had a better idea of what warning signs to look for, but I didn't. I thought I was fine. Seriously, I should have known that it wasn't ok to have mornings where it was hard to get out of bed. Where I needed to call Boy to help me put my underwear on. I just thought I was letting myself be overly dramatic, that really, I could do it, if I just made myself. I should have known that it wasn't ok to be getting upset every time Boy came home from work, and less ok that at one point I wanted to scream, "Could you please just stop breathing?!" because everything he did, even how he breathed, was irritating me. I just thought that I was hormonal, going through a rough patch in our marriage, whatever. The realization point for me was one morning while getting ready for work. I knocked the cats water dish with my foot and soaked down my sock. Annoying, but you just go change them, right? Nope. I broke down. Sat on the floor and bawled. Finally, my head said, "This is not ok. A wet sock shouldn't destroy you. Something is wrong." I met with my doctor and after a few hits and misses, found anti-depressants that helped me feel normal again. I used them for two years, and then slowly weaned off through much ups and downs as my body readjusted, eventually taking over and doing the job on it's own.
Ever since then, I've been terrified of heading down that path again. It stole my joy and my life. Turned my marriage into a burden. Took all my usefulness and made me nonfunctional. Every time I have a few bad days, it scares me. If things are feeling grimmer than usual, it scares me. If Boy feels especially irritating, it scares me. I know I struggled with depression as a teenager, hormones I suppose, and this deeper bout with depression was brought on by hormone imbalances (birth control pills) and stress. Now, I will never do the pill again, but guess who's life has been full of stress for quite a while now? Yeah, mine.
Boy has been looking for work longer than he's been out of work, and that's been since November. I don't know if any other hiring process is quite so stressful as within the church. I think they have more steps than other hiring processes and the waiting in between each step is often at least a month. So we are talking 5-6 months for the entire search to hire, or at least a month to find out if you've been rejected right off the bat. And the rest of your life in the meantime? It's on hold. You don't want to make any major decisions, commitments, or changes because you don't know what your life will be like in a few months. You don't know where you will be living, or how much income you will have, or if you will still be on hold. It's a sucky way to live.
The past year has also been full of dealing with, well mostly waiting on, doctors and hoping/fighting/despairing over trying to find answers as to why I've had so many miscarriages. Either one of these big things is a lot of stress. Together they are immense and overwhelming. Throw in a bad habit of going to bed late, with a little one whose struggled with his sleep this summer, resulting in some serious sleep shortage and we have a cocktail for disaster.
A few days ago I sat down with Boy to tell him how I'd been feeling. I was worried and scared. It seemed like I was spending a lot of time irritated with him and I was pretty sure it was me, not him or our marriage (although I'm not sure spending almost every second together for the past nine months has been that great for us. We love sharing everything and being together a lot, but we never have a chance to miss each other.) Also, I thought that I maybe wasn't being happy very often. I ended up breaking down, totally freaked out that I was headed towards depression and needing medication. He tried to calm me and said it wasn't that bad. He'd help me keep an eye on it, but I was doing ok. He prayed with me and for me, and I prayed. In praying many of the burdens and pain I've been carrying for years came out. My spirit touched again by Emerging Mummy and led by the heart of a child, I poured out that my heart was full of bitterness and cynicism and irritation, and I didn't want it anymore. I was tired of carrying it around. Despite the "coolness" of being a cynical Christian, and of being wary of emotional spiritual displays,and being too cool to be one of "those" ("Isn't Jesus great?!!") Christians, I didn't want it anymore. I was tired and broken and done. I wanted my heart to be full of him, and full of love, peace, and the joy he promises. I called and he answered. Somehow I felt freer, happier, and more alive. I also felt more connected to my husband than I had in months. Things weren't perfect. I knew I wasn't perfectly healed or over all I'd been feeling, but I knew he had heard me.
The next day I felt like nothing had changed. I was frustrated, irritated, and breaking down again. I felt dragged under, like things were actually worse than before. Talked with Boy and felt myself falling apart. "Where is he? Why can't I have the joy so many others have? Seriously. I can understand him not healing every cancer patient ever prayed for, not saving each baby I lost, not protecting every person from sickness or death, but when it comes to spiritual healing, why wouldn't he give that as soon as it was asked for? Isn't that what he wants most of all? Isn't that what Christ is all about? Why? Why can't I just have joy? Why would he deny that?" I don't remember all he said, but I remember his face and him voicing his fears that I would just give up. There have been many times I've struggled with believing God was really real, mainly because of wondering where the peace and joy were. I know that's not what I want. From the depths of my soul came, "I will not give up. I choose Christ. I choose joy." He promises these things and I will not give up until I have them. I will pursue them until they are mine.
There is no explanation for how this has happened, but these past few days have held more joy for me than the past year did. I've had moments of overwhelming, bubbling out of me, had to giggle out loud, joy. I've been more connected with my husband than I have been in months. I've initiated more kisses with him, than several previous weeks combined. Last night, we actually played together, wrestling and teasing like little kids. I can't remember that last time we did that. It's not been all sunshine and roses. There are times when the fear consumes me and I worry that none of it is real, I'm going down again, where is God and joy? There are times when I'm so irritated and frustrated I could cry. There are times when the cynicism takes hold and I think, "There is no way this job for Boy will work out. This doctor won't be able to help me, just like the others. This all has just been fleeting hope, and I will just be back where I started, wondering where God and his promises come into my life." But, I am finding ways to connect. I'm realizing how much I need quiet time, with no chance of distraction, times to walk alone and sit at the water, and be overwhelmed by God's Spirit. Each day is still a struggle, but if each has moments of joy, I am beginning to heal; to be a whole functioning person again, instead of pieces scattered on the floor. My heart has been a wasteland, but he is doing a new thing.
I choose Joy.
Isaiah 43: 18-19:
“See, I am doing a new thing! 
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 
I am making a way in the desert 
and streams in the wasteland.”


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Disclaimer - Depression and faith have a very real connection, but in NO way do I think that if you are depressed it's because of lack of faith. My faith could not save me when I experienced long term depression before, and I am very grateful that anti-depressants were available. Depression is a condition that can eat your soul from the inside out, but it's also a medical problem. Sometimes faith can carry us through and I have seen God heal those struggling with it. Sometimes it can be managed with a good diet, sunshine, and exercise. Sometimes you need counselling. Sometimes medication is needed. More often than not, it's a combo of these things. If you think you may be depressed, please talk with your doctor or counselor. They can help you come up with what will work for you. Please don't suffer alone trying to ignore it, or "just get by." I am still trying to keep an eye on how I am doing, and am constantly reevaluating if this is just a blue period where I seriously need more sleep and less stress, or if it is pointing to a greater problem.