Ups, Downs & Kung-Fu Fighting

Today has been a bittersweet day. C left early this morning for North Carolina, where he is going to be in a wedding. On the beach. I was supposed to go along, but Dr. Jazz (our high-risk OB, who always has jazz music playing in his office) didn't feel comfortable clearing me to travel when we first asked him. This was before the pre-term labor incident, so we didn't bother to ask again. Truthfully, I don't think I could have handled such a long road trip anyway - even if there was a free stay in a gorgeous beach-front mansion awaiting me on the other end. So, as C drove off for a week of awesomeness with a carload of really fun people, I sat upstairs all alone, wallowing in self-pity.

It's a tribute to the potency of pregnancy hormones that it hadn't even occurred to me that C was off to the beach - which just so happens to be my favorite place in all of creation - while I remained landlocked in the dreary Midwest. I didn't consider in the least that I should be envious of his ocean getaway. No, I was too fixated on C's absence to take note of these things. I had been dreading this moment since we decided I would stay at home, and I started crying the moment the door closed. Only later did I realize how out of character this is for me. I'm self-sufficient, task-oriented, and not overly emotional. Regular Jennifer would have found something to do right away - reading, working, scrapbooking. (Ok, maybe not the scrapbooking. But someday, I really will put all those wedding photos in a nice album. Really.) Pregnant Jennifer bawled for four hours, ate a pint of ice cream, and cried some more.

Then I had a flash of brilliance. I put on the IHOP prayer room's live stream and just let it play in the background for a while. (Did you think pancakes? You did, didn't you? Maybe it's the pregnancy - but even though I know it stands for International House of Prayer, I always think pancakes, too.) It never ceases to amaze me how music that worships and glorifies God can break me out of the most depressed and self-indulgent of moods. So, no more crying - for now, at least. I'm actually pretty joyful at the moment. When I stop to take note of those I care about, I see that God is doing wonderful things right now. My bloggy friend Kim of Thoughts by Kim fame may be a mommy this time next month! On the heels of much heartbreak, she and her husband have been chosen by another birth mom. My sister Mary (Threefold Blessings) and her family are expecting to receive their travel dates in a few days, to travel to the Ukraine to pick up my two new precious nieces and my new handsome nephew. Personally, I have a lot to be thankful for, too - and I can think of no better reason to be sitting in Ohio right now than the two ultimate cage fighters in my belly.

We got to see them again yesterday, which always makes for a red-letter day. Dr. Jazz was pleased to note that no further cervical changes were observed. I was quite happy about that too; cervical length ultrasounds always leave me chanting, "No Whammy! No Whammy! No Whammy!", just like the old game show. He is quite sure that reducing my activity and stress levels has kept us out of the danger zone, and he encouraged me to continue to rest. It was good news all around: the babies are doing really well, too. Baby A (the boy) weighs 1 lb 4 oz, and Baby B (the girl) is close behind him at 1 lb 3 oz. Both landed smack dab in the middle of the growth chart - not too big, not too small.

The best part of the ultrasound was when the sonographer was doing Baby A's growth scan. The poor little guy was squished in the pike position, with his toes touching his face. We were looking at his little legs when Chris realized that Baby B's head was also in the shot. As we watched, A drew back his tiny foot, bent his knee, and then let 'er rip. The little rascal kicked his sister in the head. (My dad freaked out when I told him this - even though I explained that they are both in separate sacs, and B was not harmed in any way.) The moment of contact is above, for your viewing pleasure.

One more thing I wanted to write about - and then I will close the longest post EVER - is what we've chosen for the babies' names. Joy (When Does Daddy Come Home), who not only likes Red but enjoys Stargate too (how much cooler can anyone be?), asked about that; while I would love to share, C has asked that we keep them to ourselves until the babies arrive. It's the only thing he's felt strongly about during this pregnancy, and I am doing my best to honor that (it's so hard!). But I did want to say that I am very excited about what we've chosen. I wanted names that reflect how these babies are gifts from God, and that they are set apart for Him, and I'm really happy with what we've agreed on. And I can't wait until they are here, and I can tell!

So I guess this is what happens when I don't blog for months on end - I write a giant missive worthy of Tolstoy. Hopefully it's not been as boring. It's getting late, so I'm off to bed, but I am looking forward to catching up on my blog reading (and commenting) over the next few days! Thanks everyone for all of your encouragement - I really appreciate you. :)

Silliness

I just had a stern conversation with one of the cats. She's been running around all afternoon, refusing to settle down. Several times in a row - she waited until I was comfortable on the couch, and then she dashed across the table, knocking everything off it in the process. So I told her that she was being silly and needed to settle down. I don't know what should be more concerning - that I talk to my animals, or that I believe that for the most part they get the gist of what I'm saying. (Are those men in white coats at my door again?) Anyway, the whole incident made me wonder if God ever looks at me and thinks, "What a silly cat!" (Or, "girl" in my case.) I'm quite sure that He does, because I know my behavior and thoughts often border on the absurd.

For instance, we got our second beta results back earlier in the week (384, praise the Lord!). Ever since the first beta came back, I have had this overwhelming urge to pee on a stick. I have wasted so much money on hpt's over the years that I didn't want to spend money on one more - especially since I already knew what the result would be. But, oh, I wanted to pee on a stick and get two lines for once!! So I was ecstatic when C asked if I would take one, just for kicks and giggles. Apparently great minds think alike!

I could not wait to target that stick...until it came in the house. Then, I was struck with an overwhelming fear. What if it was negative? What if the lab made a mistake with our bloodwork? What if something was starting to go wrong? I almost couldn't do it...but I did, and of course, it was positive. Pure silliness.

There is nothing I can do at this point to control the outcome of this pregnancy, other than to continue to follow directions, take my medications, and bare a cheek nightly for the oh-so-romantic PIO shots. And pray, pray, pray. Yet every little thing has me worrying - is something going wrong? Did I do something to hurt my little embie(s)? The truth is sobering - I have no control. But I act like I do, and that's pretty silly.

It's interesting, too, how many of my perceptions of God fall into the realm of silliness. I wasn't going to post about this, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and in case you haven't figured this out yet - blogging is my way of avoiding a super huge therapy bill. The day we got our beta results back was difficult. I prayed and cried and begged God for a positive, all the while convinced in my heart that He would say no yet again. Finally - a short while before we got the results - I had one of those epiphany-type conversations with God. It was one of those moments where what you know to be true in your head finally bridges the gap to your heart, and you get a glimpse of God's face.

I grew up in an emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive situation. I was taught at an early age that good things (or sometimes just the absence of bad things) are born of good behavior, and I began to see the world as a giant merry-go-round of cause and effect. If you asked me, I could define grace and mercy, and list out well-rounded arguments for how salvation is a gift flowing from God's grace, and we can never do anything to earn it. But yet, I was startled to realize that I had put God into a one-size-fits-all, black-and-white, tiny box: somehow I thought I did not deserve a baby (because spiritually I'd become so disillusioned and distant from God), and therefore He would not allow me to get pregnant.

It wasn't a conscious thought; it was a perfidious shadow underlying my thinking and slipping between my heart and God's. But once I saw it for what it was, I put it all out on the table and brought it into the light. I told God that sometimes it doesn't feel like He is good, and that sometimes I have trouble believing that He really does have a plan for me. I told Him that I knew I'd been disobedient and had run the other way when I'd needed Him most. And then I asked Him, in His mercy and love, to grant what I didn't deserve.

And He did. I don't know why. But I am learning that He is good, even when His version of "good" doesn't line up with the vision I have. I am so very near-sighted, and all I can see is today. Truthfully I probably spend more time looking backward than forward, and that too is silliness. But I am so grateful that I serve a God who overlooks my silliness, and loves me despite it.

Back in the Saddle

It's been a long, long time since I've posted anything. I don't really have a good excuse; sometimes blogging is a way for me to sort through my feelings, and much has been going on lately that I haven't wanted to deal with or even think about. So, I'm chalking my absence up to avoidance, pure and simple.

Here's a brief run-down of everything that's happened since I've updated last: we had a marvelous time in Hilton Head, work has been rather busy and overly stressful, and C bought me an iPhone for my birthday. My sister and her husband have decided to start the process of adopting a baby with special needs, and two people at work have had "surprise" baby news. (This has been especially hard, since neither of them are really pleased about it.) Oh, and we started IVF.

It's seemed almost anti-climactic. After all, it's been almost a year and a half since we had our initial IVF consultation. I am amazed at how, after all that time, the pieces fell into place so quickly. As far as the mechanics of the process go - we did a long Lupron protocol, and received the go-ahead to begin stimming Tuesday night. We got off to a rough start with the shots, but lately C has been wonderful in administering them. We've learned that I have an irrational fear of needles, and knowing that I don't have to give them to myself has helped reduce my anxiety. I did give myself a few of the first Lupron shots; C had to go out of town for a wiffleball tournament and wanted to make sure I could handle it by myself. I got through it, but I am thankful there are no more sports tournaments any time soon!!

My next monitoring appointment is Monday morning. The earliest we can expect retrieval is a week from Saturday. We will have to travel about two hours to have the retrieval and transfer done, since our clinic's local lab won't be up and running for a few months. To avoid any timing issues, they are booking a hotel room for us, for the night before the retrieval. It's nice that they are making all the arrangements for us, and picking up the tab, too! This clinic has far exceeded my expectations; they are so wonderful! The IVF coordinator even gave us her cell phone number, in case we ran into any problems outside of business hours. (We've only needed to bother her once, when we opened up our second package of syringes to find that they were the wrong gradation.)

If anyone is still popping over this way, I really, really covet your prayers. Before beginning this cycle, I was struggling with a lot of anger issues. I was afraid that if I turned to God and poured my heart out to Him, that He would turn this into a spiritual object lesson. I'm so afraid to ask Him for a baby anymore, because so often the answer has not been what I so desperately wanted. I've been trying to make it through all on my own, but as we've gotten into IVF I've started realizing my emotional and spiritual limitations. Now that I have been pushed beyond my illusion of control, I am beginning to press into God again. I have made this process so much harder on myself by running away from Him, and that is my own fault. So - for any sisters in Christ who may still be reading - please, please pray 1) that C and I will rely fully on God through this process, and 2) that I will have fewer needle-related issues. We had a truly awful blood-draw this week (worst of my life, and I've had some bad ones), and anytime I even see a needle anymore I get weak and dizzy. The shots have been going better since C took over, but I have to be careful to avert my eyes. And of course - most importantly - please pray that God will finally bring us our precious little miracle baby!

I am off to get caught up on my blog reading - it will take me a while I am sure! But in the meantime, please know that I am continuing to pray for all my bloggy friends and I am so grateful for you all.

More Stormy Skies

I love a good storm. When we lived on Florida's Gulf coast, watching the summer storms roll in was one of my favorite ways to pass the time. I now find myself landlocked in the Midwest yet again, and while nothing compares to a good Florida sky in turmoil, I'm surprised that I can find beauty in the swirling gray Ohio ceiling I once despised.

Today the sky looks like it's been frosted with marshmallow fluff. The clouds have depth, though, and I get the feeling that if I could peel them back, I'd find another layer of darker, more sinister clouds lurking behind. It seems to be a good metaphor for my life of late - an exterior shell of shapeless gray, hiding tumultuous tiers of anger and pain underneath.

And oh! am I angry. I have hit a breaking point of sorts. I am so tired of pouring my heart out to God, and waiting for Him to say something ... anything ... ANYthing. But He seems to be as silent as the clouds above, and every bit as far from my reach. WHY doesn't He answer me? WHY doesn't He allow us to have a baby? WHY does He touch the lives of my friends with such wonderful blessings, and yet forget about me?

I'm wrestling with the ageless question: "Is God good?" I know the party line. I can even quote it back to you, complete with Scripture references and pithy little sayings.

Sometimes God calms the storm, and sometimes He calms me...momentary, light affliction...God is more concerned with my holiness than my happiness...He keeps His promises: I will never leave you nor forsake you...I know the plans I have for you...plans for a hope and a future...

Hope? The only thing I know about hope at the moment is that it's a big precursor for a letdown. It's the part of the roller coaster where you've just gone over the top of the first hill, and everything is in slow motion. For just a nanosecond, you hang suspended in mid-air, defiant against gravity's greedy grasp. And then, you fall. And fall. And fall. All the while picking up speed, until you think you're going to go careening off the track in a spectacular crash. Once you've resigned yourself to the inevitable, the car takes a sharp turn and gives you whiplash. Shell-shocked, you start to climb the second hill, and do it all over again. That's hope.

I get the feeling that the storms in today's weather forecast are nothing in comparison to the storms raging in my heart...

Gratitude

One of the things the TCM practitioner said was that I "live in [my] head too much." She categorized me as someone who is always thinking (which is sadly true - my brain did not come with an off switch). She suggested that I start a gratitude journal, and focus on building my joy. I really must be a thinker rather than a do-er, because I've thought about it an awful lot, but have yet to put pen to paper. So, here are five things I'm grateful for this week:

1. I love, love, love our church. Last Sunday, I felt this overwhelming desire to worship, and I was really hoping that my favorite worship team would be there (we go to a large church, and they have several different bands). We arrived right after the service started, and I was slightly disappointed to find someone I didn't recognize behind the microphone. Well...I didn't recognize him until he started singing. It was Martin Smith from the band Delirious?!! He led us in an amazing time of worship. I felt like I could release a lot of my tensions and just sit at God's feet. It was exactly what I needed.

2. I am so grateful for C. We celebrated our fourth anniversary yesterday, and each had the day off work. C took me out to breakfast, and then to my favorite tea house. He had planned a picnic, but the rain interfered, so he spent all afternoon driving me to my favorite places. We're pretty landlocked here; however, there are two reservoirs that can pass as lakes, and I love to be by the water. So he took me to the best places to see the water. It was really sweet and romantic!

3. I'm grateful for our little zoo. Right now Serenity is purring away in my lap (and occasionally rubbing her face on my arm, making it hard to type). Riddick woke me up this morning by curling up next to me on the pillow, and Celerity was waiting for me right outside the bedroom door. They are such gentle animals, and always so in tune with my moods. Whenever I am sad or hurting, they seem to know and want to comfort me.

4. I'm glad I'm off today! (Need I say more?)

5. I am starting to feel better, physically and emotionally. I had really low energy levels for such a long time; just getting out of bed was enough to wipe me out for the day. It's debatable whether it's due to depression or the medications I was taking. But now, I'm noticing frequent spurts of energy, and each one lasts longer and longer. (Per the TCM practitioner, I've started taking blue-green algae and digestive enzymes, and eating much more protein - I wonder if it's related).

Of Fried Eggs and Hard Drives

Or do I mean fried drives and hard eggs? (Hard to fertilize, that is.)

This time last week, I was snuggled with a cup of hot tea, ready for my Friday morning blog-reading. Suddenly, the computer made a screeching noise and rebooted. And rebooted again. And again, and again, and again...and so began the saga of the fried hard drive. Thankfully, most of our data had been backed up recently, and we were able to retrieve the rest of it. I am now rocking a spiffy, brand new hard drive (minus a few essential programs I have yet to reload).

On the fried egg front, my last, tortuously-long cycle finally ended. (Insert frantic whooping and screaming here.) C is very pleased that the hormonally-crazed, fire-breathing dragon claiming to be me has at long last left the premises. Of course, due to the timing of the new cycle, I had to reschedule my long-awaited doctor's appointment. (And really, how else should I have expected that to work out? Typical.) I couldn't get in before next week, so Wednesday it is.

In the meantime, I am continuing to fight the good fight over insurance issues stemming from our last 3 IUI's. I can't remember if I've written about this before (I was pretty ticked; maybe too ticked to put it in words), but when I called to schedule my doctor's appointment, I was informed that my insurance hadn't paid on claims that were a year old. The insurance company says the claims were never submitted; the doctor's office says they were (but refuses to provide me with proof). We don't feel comfortable committing financially to IVF yet, if there is any possibility that we will end up being responsible for any part of these old balances. It seems that every time we try to move forward with IVF, something happens to slow us down! Coincidence or design, I wonder?

I could write a whole post on that topic alone...so all I will say for now is that I am really seeking God's will and direction. I am in the midst of one of those rare moments, where I can recognize that God's plans ARE better than mine - even if they don't look the same, and even if they don't include a baby at this moment. (Yes, I did type that just now, and yes, that is huge for me. As in Mount Everest huge.) Someone I greatly respect mentioned an interesting concept to me recently, in a conversation about contentment. I had asked how being content in my circumstances and trusting in God reconciles with desiring something different (in this case, obviously, having a baby). Her answer sparked a lot of thought on my part: she said I need to get comfortable with the tension between "the now and the not yet." And that is exactly the problem - how do I manage to live in the present, grieve for that which is denied me, and make God-honoring choices in my pursuit of that which I desperately want, all at the same time?

I don't have an answer, but I'm working on it. I guess it's all part of learning to surf the tension between what is and what I wish would be. For right now, though, all I'm planning on surfing is the web. I have a whole week's worth of blogs to catch up on!!

(Photo credit: taken by Jan Kratena and downloaded from stock.xchng.)

Outstretched Hands

I heard "Outstretched Hands" by Starfield on Pandora a few months ago, and it's become one of my favorite songs. I'm in a strange, contemplative-yet-optimistic mood today, and the lyrics keep nudging their way to the front of my thoughts:

Could I talk to You?
Are You listening?
Would You let me ask the questions
That burn inside of me?
I am reaching out
I am holding on
Feel like one of Your affections
But not quite like I belong
Like I belong

I am numb today
Everything's a blur
I've seen too much to deny
Too little to be sure
Like a prodigal
Like a distant son
I can see You from a distance
But I'm too ashamed to come

Chorus:
Will You see me through this valley?
Will You hold my outstretched hands?
As the world caves in around me
Will You help me understand?
Help me understand, help me understand

I am scared to fall
Scared to carry on
Am I losing to the cynic
After running for so long?
There's a child in me
Lost in mystery
But it's buried underneath the earth
Longing to be free

This song speaks to me on many levels. I've felt so lost inside my own despair over the past few months; it's hard for me to see my infertility struggles as a valley instead of the whole road. I was someone else before this, and I want desperately to reconnect with the girl I used to be! Don't get me wrong, there are some parts of the "old me" that needed to be ripped away, and it took a storm of this size to do it. But I miss being happy...hopeful...inspired. Instead, now I feel like I have lost to the cynic.

And I can so relate to the picture of someone standing alone in a desolate valley, reaching to heaven with all of her might, desperate for God to grab hold. Sometimes when I worship alone I stretch my hands toward the sky until I feel like my arms are going to come out of my shoulders (in a pose that somehow I can never recreate during a yoga workout...). Desperate for God to reach down and touch me, heal me, reassure me.

I wonder what I'll say someday about this time in my life. I want so badly to come out of the valley holding my baby high, and proclaiming the goodness of God. It occurs to me this morning though that maybe my testimony will be simply that God held my hand.

Healing for a Broken Story?

Something very odd happened yesterday at church. The message was about living our lives in the larger context of God’s story, instead of focusing only on our own small plotlines. At the end of the service, the pastor invited everyone who wanted to make a commitment to “enter the story”, as he put it, to stand. I was exhausted from our trip and (to tell the truth) my attention began to wander a bit. There was a little toddler running around the aisle in front of us, and as I watched him my filled with tears. I felt like my heart had jumped into my throat and I couldn’t swallow.

In that very moment, the pastor walked back up to the center of the stage. He said he felt led by the Spirit to speak to those who feel like they’re living broken stories, and that God wanted to bring healing and restoration to them. The timing was really quite incredible. Of course, I sat in my seat like a rock, but I knew – even if for just a second – that God really saw me.

Turning Point?

Yesterday was so difficult - the pain of our situation was so intense that I could hardly breathe. It felt like the air had been replaced with something thick and heavy that choked me. I wish I could say that I took my pain to the throne, that I knelt down in prayer and sought God's peace. But the truth is quite a bit uglier.

This pain doesn't ease as time progresses - instead I feel it more and more keenly. It's not a constant, persistent problem; it's more like those pesky sine graphs from math class. Up and down, up and down, over and over again. Sometimes the highs last a few days, sometimes a few hours. I've noticed, though, that each "up" is not quite as high as the previous "up", and each "down" is a little bit farther down than the last. My heart used to long to turn to God for comfort in those low moments, but not recently. I've been so consumed by anger, bitterness and jealousy that I haven't wanted to even talk to Him. After all, He could change this if He wanted. He could give me the baby that I long for - for some reason, He chooses not to. Maybe it's just for right now. Then again, maybe it's for forever. But He could heal me if He wanted. And - if I'm being honest - it makes me angry that He hasn't. Would I be such a bad mother that He won't entrust a child to my care? Are all these other women so much more important to Him than I am, that He would give them children but not me? Is there some reason why He loves me less than everyone else?

I don't know what makes today any different from yesterday. I didn't make a decision to change my attitude, and I didn't seek forgiveness for my rebellious and bitter sentiments. But yet it is evident that something has changed...the only explanation I have is that the Holy Spirit is at work in me, even as I run the other direction at top speed.

I woke this morning with a heavy peace on my heart. I don't know how else to describe it - it's the sort of peace that coexists with my pain instead of engulfing it. It reminds me of the feeling I've had after crying before the Lord for hours - the exhaustion and the desire not to fight or run anymore, mingled with sadness and sweetness all at once. It defies description, but it makes me understand the word bittersweet.