And then...

Just a warning:  this is not going to be an uplifting or hopeful post.  I don't know that I have any of those thoughts left right now.  It has been an intense few days, and I can honestly say that I have cried more in the last four days than I have in several months put together.  So why write?  Because I need to get it all out.  Because it all seems so stupid to say out loud and because I am more coherent with the written word than I am with vocals.

Saturday was the third - and most likely - the last IUI for us.  I have to be absolutely honest; I don't have any hope there.  Before our first IUI I did a ton of research, and after the first one, I did more.  IUI is a strategy that is most successful for mildly low sperm counts.  Most clinics won't even perform an IUI if the post-wash sperm count is below 10 million.  Well, our numbers have been 12, 10, and now 7.2.  I am not exactly brimming with anticipation for the next two weeks.

And then Sunday.  My grandmother called me and spent all of 4 seconds with a spiel about how she was "sorry she was a terrible grandmother but that I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore because I was no longer her granddaughter."  Now, mind you, we weren't fighting; in fact, we weren't really having much to do with each other at all. 

And then Monday.  Found out that the fertility clinic we have been going to does not accept our insurance now that it changed as of January 1.  It just further cemented the idea that we've most likely reached the end of treatment. 

And then today.  There are no words for today.  Suffice it to say, today was just heart-wrenching.  I can't explain it in detail, but I am just so glad that this day is just about over.

I'm sorry to be a downer, but this is me right now.  And I'm down.  So if you pray, say a little one for me?

Abraham and Sarah - a different perspective

Christians who face infertility often hear about Abraham and Sarah as an encouragement to be patient.  After all, God's timing is unfathomable and often doesn't coincide with our own.  Here's the thing, though, that some of those well-meaning encouragers seem to miss:  no matter the case, the situations are different.  I could go into an analysis of the ages of all the patriarchs and how 99 really wasn't "that old" back then (considering Noah's age, for example, when he had his sons).  I could discuss Abraham's visions and audible conversations with God.  I could go into any number of reasons why the situations are not the same, but I won't.   Because that doesn't matter.

What matters about Abraham's situation - at least to me - is the fact that he is still HUMAN.  Here is a man who is blessed with tremendous faith, who knows his God personally, who is given visions......and yet, he still has human reactions.  For example:

Abraham ARGUED with God.  In effect, he accuses God of being "out of His mind"!  Surely a child couldn't be born to an elderly couple!  That's ludicrous!  And yet, there's one more thing in his reaction:  he doesn't despair.  He doesn't accuse God of toying with him, of being cruel.  What does he do?  In the midst of 24 years of waiting for a promised child, he laughs.  He laughs!  What an attitude!  Despite having nothing to show for it, Abraham is not bitter.  He is not distraught or beaten down.  He is AMUSED.  Personally, I am not encouraged or blessed by this story of waiting or this fulfillment of promise.  But today, I am blessed by the human-ness of Abraham.  I am blessed by the laughter of a pillar of our faith.

So This Is Christmas...

I've been wondering if I am allowed to feel sad today.  I am truly blessed.  The last two mornings have been heavenly:  each morning the dog has allowed us to lounge for close to two hours.  We didn't sleep; we just talked and cuddled, and it was so special.  They were two of the best mornings I have had in who knows how long.  I have an absolutely perfect prince.  And the last two days have been spent surrounded by a family that loves us dearly.  There have been gifts, and food, and more food, and games, and just an amazing time of being together.

So, am I allowed to feel sad?  Do I have any justification for tears?  I still don't know the answers to those questions, but if the answers ARE "no," then I guess I'm selfish.  Because tears have come despite my best efforts.  And sadness - though very infrequent - has been present. 

So, this is Christmas:  family and love and joy and just a small twinge of pain.  And, now?  It's time for bed.

I hope and pray that your day has been happy and blessed, wherever you are.  And may God bless you abundantly in the coming new year.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

Migraines do nothing for productivity, in case you were wondering. And the monthly migraines from Clomid are beginning to get old. Actually, I thought I had gotten away with no headaches this month, but this morning was an entirely different story. My head has been a battlefield all day, complete with exploding bombs and flashes of light. My eyes even feel like they’re swimming in their sockets. It has not been a fun day.

Bright side? If the timing is the same as it has been, then I *should* have a few more days before my ovulation predictor comes up positive and I have to go in for our IUI. And THAT would be a major blessing!! Why? Because I am unable to take time off from work on Friday. There are already two people off in the department, and there was an email that went out earlier this week that said no one else was able to have the day. I’ve been worried about the timing ever since getting the email. You see, I have kept our fertility issues pretty quiet in real life, and my coworkers are completely in the dark. I have no desire to change that situation, either. I already don’t fit really well into the IS department; I don’t need to make it worse by telling them that I am actively trying to make it so that I will be off 10-12 weeks in the *hopefully* near future. Anyways, if you get the urge to pray for me, could you pray that I do NOT get my smiley tomorrow? I really really don’t want this cycle of Clomid to have been for nothing. I just need one more day, just one!

I just realized that this post is beginning to sound a bit depressing. I really don't feel that way, promise! In fact, I have been entirely too busy to worry about trying to figure out God's plan. Do I want to know? Of course! Is He sharing? Nope! But that's ok. Cause I can't control this part of my life anyways. Am I afraid of what's "next"? Do I worry that we have reached the end of our journey? Yes, I do, at times. But when I have those moments, I remember that God is always in control. My savior knows me, knows my heart, and knows my desires. Whatever He has for me is tremendously more than I could ever imagine on my own. I believe, still, that He means for me to be a mother. I still believe that His direction in this matter was clear. Every time I think otherwise, He sends something that reminds me why I started this journey in the first place. Today, it was the passage in Romans 4 that I read in my quiet time:

Do you see verse 18 there?  "contrary to hope, in hope believed..."  And then the whole passage ends with "and therefore it was accounted to him for righteousness."  I feel like that sometimes, you know?  I feel like I am hoping contrary to hope.  But at least I'm in good company, right?  Maybe someday this journey will be accounted to me for righteousness.  Maybe I have to go through this struggle so that someone else can be edified.  Or, maybe it simply is a purification process for me.  I don't know.  What I do know after almost four years is that God has a plan, and I'm never outside His embrace.  And what better place is there to be?

Blessings.

O the Blood

I was listening to praise and worship music yesterday at work as I often do, and I was struck by the song "O the Blood" by Kari Jobe.  In my desire to have a child, blood is considered the enemy.  It means failure.  It's messy and emotional, something to pray and hope against.  It's emotionally and physically painful.

And yet...

There's this lyric in that song:  "O, the blood, it is my victory."  Blood is not the enemy; it is victory.  Victory over sin and death.  Yes, it was messy, emotional, and painful.  But my Savior bore that pain willingly.  It's a bit of a reality check when you really think about it.  

Now I'm not saying that I welcome the sight of my own blood, but I am saying that maybe it's a small price to pay.  After all, my Lord bore much worse with much less.

If you're unfamiliar with the song, check it out here:

Seeking the Giver, not the gift

So this morning brought with it disappointment.  Upon reading the words “Not Pregnant” on the stick, I didn't fall apart.  I wasn't destroyed.  I cried, and my heart hurt; but I was not broken.  I can only thank God for that bit of grace.  My wonderful husband then took my sniffly bum to McDonald’s for breakfast before work.  His hug was like balm on my wounded heart.

And I got to thinking.  I love my husband dearly.  Has he always given me everything I have ever wanted?  No.  Not a chance!  But I still love him.  And you know why?  Because I love HIM, not the gifts he gives me.  I think you know where I’m headed with this.  God is the ultimate Prize.  He is worth all my worship, all my desire.  It is not His gifts that make me love Him.  It is simply His character, His identity.  Even when I am disappointed, I still need to seek the Giver, not His gifts.

This is a season of growth for me.  I feel like the Bible is brand new.  My morning time with my Savior is brand new.  He never fails to show up lately.  I don’t understand what He’s doing all the time – ok, ever – but He’s there.  I know He’s the same yesterday and forever.  I know He’s all powerful, and He can and does do everything within His will.  It’s hard to swallow, but I know that power just does not extend to me having a baby – at least not at this time.  There are things I can control, and there are things I cannot.  No matter what, though, my God is in control.  And I wouldn't want it any other way.  So, for now, I will just continue to seek the Giver.

Perfect Peace

So, as you may have guessed, I did not get happy news just under four weeks ago.  TOM came, and I was wrecked.  So, we started another round of Clomid, and prepared for another IUI.  This time, I felt like I was back on the first round two years ago.  Zits and a three-day-long headache made things wonderful.  And then, short STABBING pains in the vicinity of my ovaries the entire week before ovulation.

But then the smiley face appeared, and it was time to drive the hour and a half to the clinic.  This time the experience was so much nicer.  Instead of it being a doctor I had never met injecting me with my husband’s swimmers, this time it was a nurse.  And a nurse who understood my type A tendencies/neuroses at that!  So not only did she have the general “nurse” demeanor (explaining everything as it goes along), but she went out to retrieve my chart and spent a good ~10 minutes discussing everything with me.  I left feeling so much more comfortable and relaxed than I have in months.  And the amazing thing?  That peace has continued even now.

I should be freaking out this week.  Here it is Monday, and my period is due Friday.  I should be absolutely neurotic.  But I’m not.  I’m calm and comfortable and on an even keel.  It’s nice; it’s refreshing.  I don’t know if it’s because I have more knowledge from the clinic, or if it’s because I have intentionally been so busy the last few weeks, or if I’ve just been given an extra dose of peace.  All I know is, I thank God daily for the lack of crazy in my life right now.

A Crisis of Faith

It may be simplistic to say that it has been a trying week.  Perhaps, it would be more appropriate to say it's been an extremely emotional week.  I've already explained some of the craziness, but I have to say the craziness has continued.

I have been in Minneapolis for work since Sunday afternoon, and let me just say, I was so grateful to be intermittently distracted by the conference...

I know it was entirely too early, but I decided to test on Monday anyways - just in case.  When I got the negative, honestly, it was no big deal.  After all, I KNEW it was too early.  But then yesterday happened, and all my peace and composure flew out the window.  One of my dearest and sweetest friends has been struggling with different issues with getting - and staying pregnant.  Last week a preliminary ultrasound showed some cause for concern yet again.  I have been praying nonstop for God to bless her and to miraculously place a baby where there appeared there was none.  She had another ultrasound yesterday, and she sent me the picture of the teeny tiny precious child.  I can't explain it; I was so excited that it was there, and I was so happy that this amazing woman was going to be a mother.  But I was also instantly broken and hysterical.  I can't help but wonder yet again: what about me?  Why doesn't God want ME to have a baby?  Will I ever have my own little one?  Why not me?  

I just wanted to indulge in a little self-pity, but at the same time, I hated myself for it.  What kind of a person turns happy news into a pity party?  What kind of a person takes someone else's joy and converts it into some twisted, perverse despair?

And then, this morning, another completely unrelated newsletter arrived in my email inbox - this one from Guideposts.  This week's Mysterious Ways story?  Yeah, it was about a woman who had spent two years in fertility treatment and was expecting her own little miracle now.  I have to be honest, my first thoughts were to lash out at God.  Was He really trying to encourage me, or was He truly just a cruel trickster that loved to play with my heart?  Again, I made it about me and my own pain.

Then again, I began to think back over the last few weeks.  I began to remember God's own messages to me about His identity.  Did I really think Him cruel?  No.  Did I really think it in His character to carelessly play with my heart?  No.  The reality check brought with it the reminders from this very week about how much He does truly care for me.  This conference has buoyed me with new friendships, new knowledge, and a whole lot of laughter.  It also brought the healing balm of the love of old friends.  At my very lowest over the last several days, He never left me there.  There was always someone there at the exact right time.  I hurt, and my heart broke.  But the pieces didn't scatter.  My loving Father was always ensuring that someone was there to collect them.  And THAT realization is what has gotten me through this latest crisis of faith.  No matter what happens this week, I know He will continue to carry me through - even if I may not see it at first.

Here We Go Again...

Remember that fertility specialist we saw at the beginning of the summer?  Well, the recommendation was to try IUI again, this time with a higher dose of Clomid.

The hubby and I went on vacation from September 8 through the 15th, during which I took my third round of Clomid.  I'm happy to report that there were no yeast beasties or an attack of the killer zits this round.  Whew!  Also, amazingly enough, even with the increased dose of Clomid, I wasn't all that emotional.  

My ovulation predictor came up smiley last Thursday, so this specialist only wanted me to come in once - the next morning.  I have to say, the only part of the entire process that leaves a bad taste in my mouth is the option - the EXPECTATION - that my husband and I would not be coming together.  They recommended that I come two hours after my husband so that I wouldn't be waiting two hours while they washed the sperm.  Logistically, I can understand that, but humanly?  The process already sterilizes the experience enough without dividing the couple.  Needless to say, I went with him, and just waited.  I felt like I just had to.

Anyway, they did the wash, and apparently there were 12,000,000 strong and "directionally savvy" swimmers, which is a good number according to the doctor.  According to "Dr. Google," the minimum should be 10 million, so the number is good.  Not stellar, but good.

So far so good, right? There's one problem. And that's my emotions.  I have been entirely too excited this cycle. I'm hopeful, I'm thrilled, and I just have a feeling that this is the one.  The problem is, what if this isn't the one?  In that case, I'm headed for a crash that hasn't happened in years. And it won't be pretty.  But I just can't seem to temper my enthusiasm. And, as horrible as it is, I have seen too many "signs."

Psychologically, there have been two random and completely coincidental things that have gotten to me in the last week.  And yes, I know they are completely coincidental, but I can't seem to just laugh them off.  I don't have control over my positive emotions this month.  The first thing was a simple email newsletter from Jillian Michaels that I receive every day.  I went in for my IUI on Friday.  The very next day's newsletter's topic?  "Should I workout when I'm pregnant?"  Again, I know it's just a coincidence, but my heart leaped.  The second thing came from a nurse in the hospital that I haven't seen in months.  She saw me on the floor Tuesday and ran over to me in the station.  Very seriously, she said, "Jenn, I dreamed about you two nights ago."  I looked at her very strangely, and she continued to tell me that - in the dream - I was trying to teach them something low to the ground.  The problem was, I was "very pregnant" and was having a hard time bending over.  I must have looked a bit shocked, because the nurse then went on to say that she's been meaning to ask me if I was pregnant every since, because she's been known to have "ESP."  There were a few people around, and - like I said, I haven't seen this particular nurse in months and we're not close - so I just answered "not that I know of..."  Her response?  "Well, if you're not, you may be soon...  You might want to be careful..."  The entire exchange rattled me, and I still can't get it out of my head.  It was just so random.

Physically, there have been a couple things - all of which could definitely be attributed to the Clomid.  I haven't experienced them before, but as I started this post, I was on a higher dose of Clomid this month.  The first is the breast pain.  They seem to be permanently "at attention," and everything hurts.  Today was the first day that they were just overly tender as opposed to pain - and that does lend credence to the theory that it's just the Clomid - but from Sunday up through today, they have honestly HURT.  Secondly, Tuesday of this week, I experienced intense vertigo.  In fact, I was teaching a crisis prevention class all day, and I almost fell in front of my students.  The room just started spinning.  The entire day I was dizzy.  Finally, just over the last couple days, I have been experiencing mild cramping.  The timing is what gets me about the cramping.  From what I've read, the timing is off to attribute it to the Clomid AND the IUI itself.  It seems to be too "late" to be due to those two things.  Of course, given my mental state this month, my heart has grabbed onto that and is hoping against hope that it is implantation cramping.  But really, it could be anything.

Can you tell I have these two opposing voices in my head?  I'm both eagerly anticipating and dreading next week.  Because sometime next week is when I should know, either way.  I'm scared.  And excited.  And I just can't seem to rest in God's peace and control.  Any prayers you may spare would be highly appreciated.  I'll keep you posted...

Blessings.

Who am I?

Just opened Blogger to draft a post for today and realized I never published this one:

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Continuing with the theme of "identity," I've been thinking an awful lot about my own identity, in addition to God's.  Who am I?  Who am I as a person?  A woman?  A Christ-follower?

The truth is, I am nothing.

Now, before you start citing all the reasons why I am *not* nothing, why I am someone special, that God sent His son to die for ME, etc, etc; indulge me for a moment.

I am wretched, filthy, and full of sinful pride.  What have I done to improve this planet?  What have I done to further anyone's agenda but my own?  What in the world have I ever done that has been worthy of the love that God has given me?  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  

To quote a well-known song, it's not because of who *I* am, but it's because of who God is, and what He's done.

That being said, I am nothing, but I am also beautiful and awe-inspiring because of Him.  Apart from Christ, I am nothing.  With Christ, yes, I am everything.