Lost

I want to post a happy – life is hunky dory post, but I seem to have fallen into the doldrums.  I’m staying busy, I’m enjoying the moments.  I’m digging in the dirt, mowing the yard, and thanking God that spring finally arrived.  But my heart hurts.  It positively aches down to my toes.  

Hubby and I have been knee deep in conversations about the future and growing our family.  Our WeeMan includes wanting to be a big brother on his daily list of things he wants to do when he grows up, and I know that I’m holding Hubby back.  I know that if it were completely up to him we’d have our home study done and be waiting for the right fit on the state’s list.  But my heart isn’t there.  I want to jump full force into adoption.  I want to love that we can grow our family by adopting, but I don’t.  I’m tired.  I’m resentful.  I’m scared.  I’m heartbroken.  I’m the fly in the works, the thing keeping us from moving forward.  I’m the guilty party – the one that doesn’t want to give up on having a baby of our own.  I  don’t even pray every night anymore for a miracle.  It seems hopeless.  Every month I hold my breath and plead for a miracle, and every month I’m crushed again.  

I feel like it’s my fault that our sweet Zion – never got to breathe air on earth.  It was something I did or didn’t do.  Maybe it was the poppyseed chicken we had for dinner that week – I didn’t even think.  Maybe I didn’t pray hard enough, or believe deep enough.  Maybe I was too happy, too optimistic.  Maybe I wasn’t trusting enough.  I would give almost anything for another chance.  

I know for my marriage’s sake and for WeeMan’s sake I need to pull myself out of here, but I just can’t seem to find the light right now.  

Infertility Awareness

My husband and I are part of the 10% of the population who live with infertility.  In spite of numerous tests, we were unable to pinpoint a cause – there’s a good possibility that both of our bodies are at fault.  (Kind of ironic two infertile people end up together)  It’s funny that there’s a week – a month dedicated to infertility awareness.  Being infertile I am aware of it everyday – or specifically every month when I hold my breath and think maybe my period won’t start and we’ll be granted a second miracle.

You see we already have one miracle.  Our WeeMan was born through IVF 4 years ago.  There were years of heartbreak, thousands of dollars, hundreds of meds and needle pricks, and millions of prayers, but it was all worth it in the end.

This is our doctor that counseled us, encouraged us, ached for us, and prayed with us before every procedure.  

These are our amazing nurses at Midwest Fertility Specialists in Fort Wayne that held my hand every step of the way.

We have a son, but we are still infertile.  We still pray everyday that God will increase our family.  We still hope each month for a miracle, and our hearts still ache every time it doesn’t happen.  If we ever won the lottery the first thing we would do is go straight back to Dr. B’s office and try our best to make another miracle.  I don’t believe anything will ever change that for us. 

We are one of the 10%.

 

 

A Punch to the Heart

Sometimes life can be going along fine – nice and quiet – enjoyable and content even.  Then the words of a 4 year old can punch you right in the gut – make you stop and catch your breath.  Words that can make you smile and nod and make the appropriate mommy sounds, kiss him and squeeze him good night – tell him you love him to the moon and back and to the sun and forever and ever – then walk out of his room and sigh and whimper just a bit.  

Tonight at bedtime Davy and I were having our usual bedtime discussion as I got him ready.  He was filling me in on all the important things I needed to know today.  Tonight’s conversation began with the certainty that he wanted to be a policeman when he grew up.  As I listened to him jabber about his future job I was struck unprepared when he told me he wanted to have a “bwother to be a policeman with him.  They would police guys together and then maybe there would be another bwother – a baby bwother to be a policeman too.” 

Oh sweet little man – mama would give the world to give you your wish – if only it were that easy.  Just when you think you’re growing content with your circumstances – that you are okay with the place you have landed – the carpet can be yanked tugged out from under your steady feet and you find yourself crying for what might have been, what you wish was.  And in that moment you realize you still want more – you still ache for the dream that was.  I’ll go to sleep tonight with a prayer that I have prayed too often – a wish, a plea, a cry on my lips.  If only – and it’s so hard in this place to pray “Father your will and not my own”  when really I want His will to be the same thing I want.  

Somedays

Work has me exhausted this week.  Most of my kiddos are being as good as can be expected two weeks before Christmas, but there is one that just wears me out daily.  Our class spends most of the day tiptoeing around him, hoping we don’t set him off.  Usually we only set him off when he doesn’t get to do what he wants to do, when he wants to do it – or if I (now here’s a gasp) ask him to do some school work at school!! (I know how dare I have the nerve!)  I just keep thinking hang in there I can do it.  

I’ll admit that part of my problem in the last couple of weeks have been from non-school related things.  I’ve been fighting a little sadness.  My heart aches a bit with longing for a baby – for a sweet little girl.  Most days I am fine and I am okay with WeeMan being our only, unless we finish up the adoption process – but other days are a different story.  Some days it’s like a fist to the heart squeezing and twisting, until you gasp for air.  I know that my sister’s approaching due date has a lot to do with these aches.  Truly I am so happy for her – but I can be happy for her and sad for me at the same time.  I also know that it’s just flat out the holiday season – the longing, the missing, and the stress, all rolled into one.  I’ll pull through and I’ll be stronger for it.  But knowing that in my head and getting it with my heart – are sometimes two different things.