All I have to do... is dream...

Just lately I've been dreaming about IF. Strangely enough, I rarely ever dream about it. I do have very vivid dreams, though - always have. Usually they're fun dreams - or just weird, or goofy anxiety dreams. It's rare for me to have terribly sad or scary dreams. But this week I've had three IF dreams already. Two were very similar to each other, where I was in this sort of large, industrial looking room - and a very pregnant lady was standing next to me, maybe three feet away. Suddenly, she went into labor and was soon giving birth - just standing there! I started screaming at the top of my lungs, "NOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO!!!!! You can't!! Not fair!!!! NOT FAIR!!!!" I was screaming and sobbing... Sobbing.... Sobbing! Suddenly I realized I was struggling in some sort of body of water - actually under water - and I was still screaming and sobbing. Though submerged and obviously completely soaked, I remember the feel of my own tears on my face... and knew I had to stop screaming so I could get above water. I struggled to the surface and saw the woman there with her baby, just standing there watching me.

I also dreamed that a woman in my office, whose partner is pregnant in real life (newest pregnancy announcement), was the one who was actually pregnant. In real life, I was beyond thrilled to learn that it was her partner who is pregnant - and NOT her!!! I was so not in the mood for yet ANOTHER office pregnancy. She's already the sixth in the office, who will soon be a first-time parent - but at least I don't have to actually see yet another pregnant person!! Anyhow, in my dream, it turned out that she lied and it was her - and not her partner - who was pregnant, after all. And when I found out - I was TICKED OFF, big time!!! I saw her getting coffee and looking six months pregnant. She was wearing the most hideous maternity dress - it looked like a mumu. In real life she never wears dresses, so that was weird enough, but this dream dress was truly awful. In my dream, she was going on and on to someone about her pregnancy etc - and I was getting more and more angry - finally I just started chucking plastic forks at her. Hard! I was pitching them at her by the handful! She just kept talking, like she didn't even notice.... Made me even more angry! Then I woke up ticked - and now I'm watching her carefully, in real life, for signs... just in case.

So... just some strange little dreams that made me feel funky, I guess. One probably doesn't need a doctorate in psychobabble from the University of Sigmund to analyze those dreams, but they sure left me feeling weird.

Gee, if dreams reveal character, I guess these ones don't say much good about my character, eh?

Well, anyhow, I sure hope this isn't a new trend. My life is full enough of other people's pregnancies, as it is. My dreams have been sanctuary. Don't turn on me now, subconscious!!!

On the bright side, I skipped department baby shower number five yesterday - as I skipped the four before it. But the leftover cake was truly fabulous! I don't even feel guilty that I skip the showers and then eat the leftover cake. I am a scoundrel!!!! Clearly, I don't deserve the cake! But I like it! This one was actually from a nice bakery. I figure, hey - they get to have children, the least I can get is a little cake. And eat it too!

The Queen Me

Well.... I did it! I turned 40. It happened. And I daresay, I did it in style. Granted, it was my own unique, somewhat juvenile, style... but that still counts! There was no sad attempt to stop it, and no hiding.

When I started this blog, I was absolutely mortified by this upcoming milestone - at least in relation to my infertility. I'd like to tell you I totally got past that, but that would not be a truth. But alas, short of that final journey homeward, nothing stops the passage of time for any of us... no matter how much we may dread it, or even rejoice in it. The passage of time cares not. It cares not for our worries, our insecurities, our denial, or even our happiness or love.... certainly it cares nothing for our talents, or lack thereof, in the procreation department. It knows no stopping, no slowing.... and I regret to inform you that a watched pot does indeed boil.

And that's all ok by me, I guess... I mean, what good would it do me to resist it, anyhow? It's kinda one of those things, you know. So what then? I guess just this: make the best of what we have! Make the best of what we're given! Do our best where we are! Be good stewards!

My tune may change next week - or even tomorrow, mind you. Mayhaps I'm just basking in the glow of almost two weeks of par-taying! Of being treated like a Queen. I haven't settled into real life in my forties yet. It's quite possible that the Queen Me simply hasn't had time to really think or process any of it, now that I'm here.

But today a baby was in our office - one of the MANY, many pregnancies in my little dept of 32 people. I ignored the baby. I always do... I mean, if it were one of my closer friends I wouldn't, but why torture myself with the baby of someone who's kind of rude to me? Why put up the pretense? Carry on, carry on. I didn't cry. That's something, right?

Oh, did I mention that on day three of being 40, which was Monday July 11th, I came into the office to find my computer more or less blown to bits.... at least internally. There had been some really bad storms and they fried it... who knew my company didn't use protection against that sort of thing? Anyhow, so I had to find a new desk to use for the day. I went from desk to desk of the people out just a day because I so did not want to sit at the desk of any of the several gals out on maternity leave. That's mature, eh? Anyhow, because I have some special programs that I need, most computers didn't have those programs... you know it --- I ended up at one of maternity girls' desks. Bummer! Not only that, but she had all these congrats cards and gifts and signs up.

Yup - nothin' like being infertile at 40 years and 3 days - and having to sit in the cube of a coworker on maternity leave all day - surrounded by congrats paraphernalia. Sigh. Can't get any better than that. At least until you get your period later that same day. Good ole AF and her awesome sense of humor! Yup! This is a sadly true story.

My love of irony at least appreciated the scenario on some level.

Sigh.

Anyhow, I guess this is all just the way it goes... it's life. I have to deal with it. I have to keep laughing. And yes, crying if that's where I'm at... in either case, I gotta just keep moving forward. I feel better for having embraced it and laughed a bit.

I'll still avoid the non-friend coworker's babies though.

Anyhow, on to the really fun stuff! My birthday!! It was truly wonderful!

On Friday, July 8 - the day before my birthday - Ar and I hung out. He made me some cute treats and then we played some games outside - ladder ball and frisbee. Just fun! Then my dearest friend L came that night. She lives four + hours away. We went to Pizza Hut, because it's somewhat of a tradition... stemming back from the mid '80s. Then she and I made an ice cream cake for my birthday cake. Ar looked on, being as cute and adorable and sweet as ever!

The next morning - my 40th birthday - Ar woke me up at 6:30 am.... I'm seriously NOT a morning person, but he was standing next to our bed with a tray of chocolate covered strawberries and two glasses of champagne! (To which I said, "where's YOUR champagne, dear?" ) It was so amazing! Just so sweet and romantic! He dipped the strawberries himself!!! I LOVED it!!!! He wanted to do a little something just him and me, before the day started... and since we'd be w/ L and others the rest of the day.... I loved it!!!

After that - a day of fun! Ar, L, and I went to get pedicures! Yes, I made my hubby get a pedicure! L and I get them every chance we get - and we manage to get them together maybe once a year... but how fun to have Ar get one with us!! He was seriously just too cute for words! He's such a good sport!!! However, he wants everyone to know that while he did enjoy the experience, he did NOT get any polish on his toes!!!! I did, of course... my toes are sparkly blue! Love it!

Next we went to a light lunch and then a small kiddy-land amusement park. Brave of me, right? Well, I absolutely adore the Tilt-a-Whirl, so it was worth the risk of seeing so many happy little families. Seriously, Tilt-a-Whirl is like the greatest fun - ever!!! So that was one of the main birthday things I wanted to do! L rode it with me as it makes Ar a little sick, so he was happy that L would go with me this time! (He's definitely put in his dues in the Tilt-a-Whirl department, after all.) It was such fun! Just pure glee!!!!

Next, L and I went to the beach... Ar went home to get a few things ready for the evening's festivities. The beach was super nice - a little sand, a little swimming! Mind you, this is just a small community beach, but it's a nice one. It's no Caribbean Sea off Honduras, but it is nice!

Next came the par-tay... About 15 of us gathered at one of my favorite restaurants - it was a nice evening, so we sat on the patio... it was quite lovely! Ar had gone early to decorate, and arrange a few things. All my most favorite friends from this area were there! Even my very, very, verrrrry pregnant friend made it! She had been uncertain because she was due any minute, but she and her hubby are some of those friends I mentioned in my earlier post, who have been friends since the early/mid 80s... so, long-time and very dear friends!!! She was the person at the par-tay that I've actually known the longest. My most recent friends at that party were friends I met in 2001. It's such a blessing to have the friends I have!!! Anyhow, I loved every minute!! '

Oh, and at dinner, Ar was showing everyone the photo book of our special Honduras trip. He loves that book so much!! That makes me very happy! I think everyone else really enjoyed seeing and hearing more about it. It's not too long , so it's not annoying to anyone. Then after dinner was bowling!! I'm a truly terrible bowler, but it is good fun!!

Yes, it was quite the fun-filled, somewhat juvenile day....

Next day we went to church and then hung out a bit, before L had to go.

Then the following week was full of birthday lunches. Then Thursday night, a good work friend threw a par-tay for me with work friends, at her house. That was really, really fun too!

Then on the weekend, it was on to Milwaukee for more.... I'm originally from Milwaukee - which is about 6 hours away from where I live now. So this past Saturday was par-taying with my family, and then another very lovely par-tay with some more of my oldest and dearest friends.

To sum up, I was treated like a Queen for the past almost two weeks. Don't worry, I won't let it go to my head.

Especially since, sadly, the Queen cannot seem to produce an heir to the throne.

But she still knows how to have a good time... and certainly knows how to surround herself with good people. And she knows she is greatly blessed.

So.... just keep on keepin' on, right! I've made it this far, after all. I've learned a few things along the way, I've kept good company - and I do have faith. So, as always, some days will be better, prouder days than others... but I'll own them all, for they are the days that were given to me. And I'll pray that I may be the exception... that my miracle could still happen. I know the odds are against me, but heck if I'm ready to stop hoping now. We'll see about tomorrow, tomorrow....

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

A dweam wifin a dweeeam....

Last night I dreamed that I was sashaying (actually sashaying!!!!!) down the street singing... no, more like - exuberantly belting out - the following tune,

"You've got to.... laugh a little... cry a little... until the clouds roll by a little.... That's the story of... that's the glory of... love..."

And all the people on all the streets were absolutely moved!! And no, I don't mean they all ran away from my awful singing - I mean that they LOVED ME!!!! They were mesmerized! It was seriously the best dream ever!!!!

Truth be told, I love to sing - and have no real shame about how awful I sound - so this dream was like a dweeam wifin a dweeeeam for me!! (That's dream within a dream, in case you're not a Princess Bride fan.)

Anyhow, I mentioned my dweam, errr, dream, this morning on Facebook. One of my friends responded with this, "Oh. My. Goodness. Gosh I love your posts. If you had a blog, I'm telling you, you'd get your own t.v. show..." Of course my ego loves the positive feedback on my humor, but I found her comment today to be beyond amusing since, in fact - if you're reading this you already know this - I already have a blog.

Of course, only Ar and two friends actually know about this blog, other than the friends I've met out here in Blogville. AND, as you also know, my blog is just not particularly entertaining at all! It's not intended to be. It may actually be downright depressing and whiny, come to think of it... But it's also been therapeutic. In any case, her remark was pretty hysterical in the, "isn't it ironic?" department.

Anyhow, it really made me think though. IF has actually kind of given me something good. It's taught me who my very truest friends are. Those who can really know me - struggles and laughs and everything in between - and still love me. They may be fewer than I'd thought, but that makes them all the more golden. I'm so grateful for this!

And I do love to laugh and to make others laugh, so thank God for all manner of friends. Those I can laugh with, those I can cry with - and especially those who I can do both with.

(Ar is most definitely included in that group of friends who love in laughter and tears, through thick and thin... even though the stinker says we're not friends because we're better than friends - but I insist that we're both!!!)

Well, again with the irony... this whole thought process started with a dream about me randomly singing the Glory of Love, which is actually quite fitting. So, I'll close with some Bette today. Enjoy!

If I stand

Well, in exactly two weeks - fourteen little days - I will be forty years old. There is no turning back and no slowing things down. But on the bright side, in the last week, I've been given some incredibly helpful advice..... I've been told to not worry about forty, that "forty is the new thirty," that the forties are the best years, and that it's really not a big deal. Gee, if only I'd known that forty was the new thirty, I wouldn't have been upset at all. Silly me. Yeah, thanks for the empathy, my well-meaning, but unseeing, fertile friends! Yes, every one of them has kids already.

Thing is, I listen with concern as they talk about their motherhood and pregnancy difficulties... I don't understand why they can't try, for even half a second, to understand why I'm so freaked out about this. Oh well. In the meantime, the party planning is proceeding... I will turn forty and we will celebrate. IF is trying its darnedest to rob me of my joy of birthdays, but it won't take me down without a fight. Sigh.

Also in the last week, I've found out about three more pregnancies and two more births. Another will likely give birth any day now. I've literally lost count of all the pregnancies and newborns in my life right now. It's like a regular baby boom, these days - I can't keep track anymore. And good for them!! It's lonely here, but I would not want anyone else to go through this. I'm so grateful for the cyber company I've found in this journey, for the support and prayers - and for knowing that though this is lonely, I'm not alone in these crazy ups and downs. Still, I sure wish we could have all met up under better circumstances!! I do pray that better circumstances are around the corner for all of us!

In the meantime, what's a girl to do?

We're always walking such a fine line, aren't we? That line between hope and despair, trying to keep it all in balance... it takes so little to knock us one way or the other. In my experience, too much hope (who knew before IF that there could be such a thing as too much hope?) is a set-up for certain emotional disaster. But too much despair leads to the same place. So we try to carefully traverse that fine line - never daring to hope too much, but never wanting to give in to despair.

So, what is a girl to do, anyhow?

Besides feel a bit crazy, that is....

I wish this forty thing wasn't doing its best to throw me so far over that despair line? I mean, what is my problem? I love everyone's birthdays!! Hey - we were born! We're still alive - that's super awesome!!! Right!?! So what then - do I now think my reproductive parts know it's almost my big four-oh-no? Maybe there's some actual alarm that will actually go off in my nether regions that will signal them to work even less than they already do? I don't know - guess I'll find out in fourteen days. I'm sure I'll let you all know! Who knows - maybe it'll be so loud that you'll hear it for yourselves... So, I guess if you hear some glass-shatteringly loud screeching sounds on Saturday, July 9, you'll know to just turn towards Minnesota and give a little salute for a fellow comrade.

So then.... what is a nearly forty year old girl to do? Most of the time I just don't know. I guess most of the time, I figure it's best to just keep on swimming.

But as I swim, I'll continue to try to cling to what I know.... that for the past thirty-nine years and fifty weeks, God has been good to me. He has been faithful. I trust He will not stop being good or faithful to me after forty. I don't know the expiration date of my potential fertility, but I do know that there is no expiration on God's love. I do trust in this. So if I stand, I will stand on the promise that He will pull me through.


But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. (Lamentations 3: 21-25)

Roundness

Of course, as you might have suspected, AF indeed reared her ugly head during my Honduran holiday. I did my best to ignore it, but somehow it wasn't until AF came that people started asking if we had kids. Sigh. That's just the way it goes, I guess.

Nobody was obnoxious about it though, so it could have been worse. The lovely - HOT - weather and sea-water was rather therapeutic! It still sucked, but probably less than it normally does at home, or when I have to trudge into work and be surrounded by the fertile masses. (Two more colleagues had their babies, while I was in Honduras, by the way.)

Anyhow, I just don't understand why it has to be this way. And why do I keep coming back to why. Is there a reason? If there is, what difference would knowing it even make? Would it hurt less? Probably not. So why can't I stop asking why?

More importantly, what should we do next?

No really... I'm asking... what should we do next?

I need to lose some major poundage, at this point... I am so, so, so very angry at myself for how much weight I gained when the dreadful panic attacks started!!! I'm just so angry!!! How could I let it happen? It was hard enough just dealing with my weight because of my PCOS, but then I just lost complete control!

How could I let that happen? Didn't I have enough issues already? Apparently I thought not, so I just went ahead and stress-ate myself into an even worse place... Nice work!

How am I ever going to get this off? How could I let myself lose even more time?

I'm almost 40.

And I've lost so much more time - so many more months.

Did I mention that I'm almost 40!?!

Ugh!!!

But truthfully, there was no way I could have gone through IUI or IVF with the panic attacks and out-of-control anxiety. I just couldn't have, I know this with certainty. It wouldn't have worked and it wouldn't have been good for me, or anyone. The treatments are hard enough as it is.

I really am doing so much better right now, overall, thanks to the meds and therapy. But I'm not totally there yet. I can't stop the meds yet, I still feel completely inadequate, and I'm still far too fat.

How much more time will I lose, while I work on these issues?

I am down 12 pounds since I started the meds, so at least I'm now moving in the right direction, but I have a long way to go.

Thing is, I've started to feel ready to jump back into IUI, at least... but shouldn't I wait till I lose a lot more weight and am doing better?

Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows...


Deuteronomy 31:8: It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.

4-Oh my

I've been debating amongst myself about whether or not I should celebrate my big 4-O, which is just a couple months away. I've always loved birthdays, but this is a tough one. I never thought it would be tough, I mean, having an issue with turning 40 is so... so... trite. After all, isn't 40 the new black and all that? Yet here I am... almost 40 and the sound of pitter-pattering little feet is nowhere to be found - and I am freaked out!!

I read this past week that the chances of conceiving naturally after 40 go down to five percent. Five percent. 5%!!!! I don't pretend to be a great mathematician, but that doesn't sound real promising.... After all, I didn't conceive naturally when I was 35, nor with the use of acupuncture, herbs, Clomid, or IUIs, since then. In a few short months, my chances apparently will fall even lower. Gee, I wonder why I have a problem with turning 40.

Also, my mom lost my dad - her husband of 22 years - when she was only 40. I knew then that 40 was very young, but now here I am. And though I'm not superstitious and though I know it's silly and irrational, that really freaks me out. I don't know exactly why. It makes no sense. But it's there, another black cloud lingering over my head.

My mom already had three kids - out of the house - by the time she turned 40. I, the youngest, was a freshman in college when dad died. It astounds me to think now that she was my age when she lost her husband. They were married 22 years, and later this year will mark 22 years since he's been gone. Unbelievable!

Oh, how I want a little Ar pitter-pattering about!! Oh, how I wish I could have known him and married him when I was younger, but it doesn't work that way. I found my prince in my 30s... and that's just the way it is.

I just so want to share that gift, which seems just beyond my reach, with him. It's all such a miracle, and I want us to be part of it. I don't know, I just want it so much that it breaks my heart to see it slipping further and further away. I want my dad and mom to live on, too. I do have a niece and a nephew, but I want to be part of that. Is that selfish? Is it selfish to want to want to see the face of my darling Ar in the child that we create together? Maybe it is - honestly, I'm not sure. But it doesn't go away. When I think of how much I love Ar and how happy I am that we found each other, all I know is that I want to have a child with him. I'll take it all... the good, the bad, and the ugly. Or am I just not equipped properly to be a good mom? That's not true, is it?

Shake it off, girl - it's not true. That's not why.... Right?

Infertility is ridiculously cruel!!

In the meantime, 40.... and all I can hear is the slow, ominous creaking of a door closing. If I'm not equipped now, when will I be?

In other news, I came to tears at the Walgreens a few days ago, upon seeing this adorable little guy in a giraffe rain coat and zebra galoshes. He was the cutest little thing!! There was just something about him that just killed me. I just stared at this little guy. Then I had to hightail it out of there, before I burst into weepy tears right there. Besides, I think the kid's mom was starting to worry I was going to steal him. I assure you, dear reader, I had no intention of stealing him. But he sure was cute! A giraffe rain coat - oh my word... with zebra galoshes! Can it get any cuter?

Oh, how I want a little Ar pitter-pattering about, wearing mismatched mammalian rain gear!!!

Infertile and nearly forty. Who would have thunk it?

Nope, I never thought I'd mind about turning 40, but now I find myself wanting to hide under the covers with a nice bottle of Cab, instead of celebrating the life I've lived thus far... with all the goodness that really is in it. But I won't.

I have made a decision to embrace it as best as possible. After all, hiding won't change anything. I'll still be 40. I'll still be infertile (most likely, anyhow... that pesky hope still hovers around.) And I'll still have only a five percent chance of conceiving.

I'll also still have an amazing hubby, who I just adore. A hubby, who, amazingly, seems to adore me... infertile, fat, forty - me. I'll also still have a wonderful group of friends and a wacky, dysfunctional, but loving in their own way, family. I'll still have a sense of humor. I'll still be somewhat quirky. I'll still love to bake bread and other delicious treats. I'll still care very much about people. I'll still think Juke Box Hero is the greatest song, like --- ever!!! I'll still believe. I'll still have my Lord, who loves me more than I can even fathom.

Also, I'll still have (a little) time to pursue further treatment. I'd have to lose more of this anxiety weight first, though - and be in a better frame of mind. It was the right decision to take a break when we did. I realize now that anxiety really has plagued me longer than I thought. It didn't start with the panic attacks, they were merely an extremely unpleasant escalation of the problem. The panic attacks are what prompted me to get help, but the anxiety was there already, big time - probably since I was a tike, myself. Ah, but that's a story for another day.

At any rate, if I can lose weight and if we choose to try the next treatment steps, I believe I'll be in a bit better frame of mind for it. I don't know if that matters or not for my chances of success, but it matters for my overall well-being. But first things first. I have a 40th birthday to start planning.

Psalm 31: 14-16: But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors! Make your face shine on your servant; save me in your steadfast love!

Live in the moment and hope for the best

Apparently a dog's motto is, "Live in the moment and hope for the best" - at least according to my coworker, who is the biggest dog lover I've ever met. I don't know if that's true or not, but it's not a bad motto. It's always been hard for me to just live in the moment. I guess anxiety and living in the moment don't exactly go hand in hand, and though panic attacks are new to me, I have come to acknowledge that the more generalized anxiety is not new to me. Still, I have do always hope for the best, so maybe I'm part dog....

AF is two days late. I'm honestly still not very hopeful about it, though, as this has happened before a couple times. The disappointment is so much greater, the higher my hopes get - so I try to be cautious. Anyhow, my body feels PMSy - not pregnant (from what I've read, that is), so I'm trusting my body and not getting excited.

Mind you, I'm not a pessimist; I'm an optimist with lots of experience... So I stopped off at the store tonight to pick up some EPTs -- and some extra AF supplies. I would like it to be true, but I'll be prepared either way.

Also, kind of a funny thing happened today. Ar and I are going on a trip next month, so we went to a travel clinic today to see what shots/meds we need. The questionnaire asked if I am pregnant or expecting to be pregnant soon. Instead of checking either yes or no, and though there was no space to actually write anything, I managed to squeeze in, "It's certainly possible, though not very likely."

The nurse read it, then looked back at me with an odd expression and said, "We don't recommend anti-malarial pills with pregnancy; you should avoid pregnancy for three months after starting them." I replied matter of factly, "Well, that shouldn't be a problem." Then she really gave me a strange look, so I said, "Well, it hasn't happened in more than five years, so I guess the odds are pretty low it'll happen in the next three months."

Meanwhile, Ar was muttering, "It might happen, babe, it might..."

I could tell the poor nurse was thinking, "Let's just stick to the travel medicines, crazy lady!"

I was amused by this little scenario. It seems my ability to interact normally in society has been somewhat compromised by IF. It seems I can't even answer a simple yes or no question on a medical questionnaire, anymore.

But I contend that being asked if I'm pregnant (when I'm two days late), or plan to be soon (when I really, really (really!) want to be) is simply NOT a simple yes or no question!!

Anyhow, I found it a bit humorous. No one else could possibly see the humor in it, though, so I posted it on an IF page I participate in. They totally got it.

I guess that's an interesting thing about IF. It puts you in this weird little club that none of us want to be in, but it sure is nice to have good company - even if you've never met any of them in real life.

Even if we all go on to have children, which I hope and pray happens, I think that most of us will never quite leave the club because IF will have left its mark, hopefully making us better parents and more caring, empathetic people. Whatever the outcome, I truly hope that we will all be better for it. For many of us, such a thought seems impossible. But with God, all things are possible.

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Romans 12:12

The days of snow and mothers

This I believe with all my heart: Spring should spring - not snow! It's mid-April and we woke up to snow covered ground... it was almost too much to bear. I certainly couldn't bare my toes, which is far and away one of my most favorite things to do.

Incidentally, I bared my toes four days in a row, this past week. It was a rather summery spring, for part of the week, anyhow. Then back to winter. This past one has been a very long winter. I really need for it to move on. But each time I feel the hope and warmth of spring again, winter laughs icily in my face.

I've never in my life been so obsessed with Spring, as I am this year. I've always loved it, of course, but this year... everything in me aches for it!! Aches for it?? Sheesh, a little melodramatic, wouldn't you say? Maybe, but it's as true as the fact that toes were never meant to be cooped up in socks and shoes! I need Spring to spring and stay sprung!!! Is that too much to ask? I need it as much as I need air!! Ok, maybe I need air a wee bit more... but you get the (snow) drift.

I need to know that at some point, the snow will stop. The cold will stop. The ice will stop. Every time I believe it's over, it just ain't...

But it will come to an end! I do believe that it can't last forever. I say this because it never has lasted forever before - at least not in my 39 Winters.

Even knowing that Spring and Summer will also be temporary doesn't make me want for them any less.

Don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with season analogies relating to my journey with IF and anxiety. Nor will I break out into a rousing rendition of "The Circle of Life...." Ok, it's too late for that, but at least you can't actually hear me singing it...

Anyhow, I wandered around a bit today, running a few Saturday type errands. Ar and I are going to Honduras next month (no snow there!!!), so I was also doing a little shopping for that.

Of course, the one down side to Spring - at least for an IFer - are the constant reminders of Mother's Day. Every store I went to, every commercial I heard... all reminded me that the both wonderful and heart-wrenching holiday is close at hand.

Don't mistake me, I love my mom of course! I think mom's deserve a day. I think they deserve more than one. But for anyone who is walking a mile in my toe-covered shoes, it's an incredibly difficult day. So much so that I don't even want to look through the card aisle, to find one for my own mother. (But I will.)

It's not just all the cards and brunches and flowers that get to me.... it's not just all the jewelry commercials, and it's not just that the pastor always calls all the moms to stand up, gives them flowers, and sings their praises... while I sit in the back, face down, hair falling around my face, trying my best to keep the raw clanging of my emptiness to a dull roar. Yes, it's those things, but it's not just those things. It's that every single Mother's Day, I think... "next year....."

Next year by Mother's Day, that'll be me! I'll be a mom next year!!! Next year! Next year. Next year? Next year.... I'm not even sure I believe it anymore, but that hope comes and goes, like the snow in Spring. (Sorry, did I just bore you with an analogy, after all? My apologies!)

Will it be me? Will it ever be me? I don't know. Unlike Spring, it's not inevitable that I'll be a mom. So that begs the question, how many more childless Mother's Days can I endure?

Well, I suppose the answer is simply, as many as I must. I'm resilient(ish), right? Well, I used to think so. I know one thing from this journey, I am not as strong as I thought I was. Still, this won't kill me, right. Right? But was Nietzsche right, that "That which does not kill us makes us stronger...?"

Well, I don't know about that, but I do firmly believe that the Lord will sustain me and that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion, so I will stand on the promise that He will pull me through even this. But you know, honestly, as firm as my faith in that is, it doesn't make it easier... (I don't think it's meant to.) I have to go straight through the hurt anyhow. There do not seem to be any shortcuts through it. I know this, because I've tried. It's dark, cold, and dense, and it's downright terrifying. And though Spring is inevitable - even in the midst of this dreadful season - it's so easy to lose perspective, if not careful. For whatever reason, though, it's for me to go through. (Note to self: remember, you're not in it alone!) (Oh, and ooops - sorry, I guess another little analogy made its way in there.)

In related news, tomorrow is Day 28. AF usually comes on 28 or 29. I have absolutely no hope this month, even though all signs were go on ovulation and such - and even though there's absolutely no reason why I shouldn't be pregnant. But I know I'm not. My, how pessimistic that sounds... Normally I'm full of anticipation and wild belief, followed closely by, what seems their constant - and unwanted - travel companion, despair. I guess I just don't have the energy for it this month. I don't have the energy for the fall (that one was NOT an analogy.) I just don't. And I really don't want to have to put on socks and shoes tomorrow.

Oh, please, dear Lord... please, maybe by next Mother's Day??

Oh, and one other request...

...Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.... Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. (Psalm 51:10-12)

The point of no point

I had my third appointment with my therapist, tonight. I guess it's been good. So far we haven't gotten to the relaxation techniques for my anxiety. I guess that's because I keep talking about stuff. I realize that it's nice to not worry about her feelings. I can just talk. Lately, with others, to some degree, I always worry. I'm always worried about saying something wrong. I don't want to overlook their challenges, just because of mine. And, I'm not supposed to be anxious and depressed. I'm supposed to be funny and jolly and have relatively interesting commentary on life... And I guess I continue to still sort of be that... at least when I have the energy. I'm not supposed to be how I feel, these days. Most people don't even know what I am going through, anyhow.

Why does it bother me that my friend with cancer posts on Facebook and Caring Bridge about her condition, almost every day - and gets this outpouring of support and love and prayers... I support and love her, and pray for her, too.

I told this to my therapist tonight and I said I think it's so ridiculous that I feel this way about my friend's Caring Bridge page... She has cancer. I don't want cancer, by any means. But somehow it frustrates me too, not because I begrudge her anything - I don't, but, but, but, but... where's my outpouring of support? I don't need casseroles, but don't I get anything for all this?

Sometimes I feel like I am just silently withering away, while my body walks around acting normal(ish) - except that it can't produce children.

My therapist asked me what it is I would want, if I could do a Caring Bridge page.

That's a great question. I honestly don't even know.

The only thing I could think of was that I would want maybe some modicum of sensitivity. I would want to not lose friends because they feel so guilty about my IF. I would want to have people know and care - actually care - but not act like I'm a leper.

Maybe I want people to actually see me. The funny and jolly, and the IF, and the anxiety and sadness. But there really are a few people, who know all that - and still love me, anyhow. Isn't that good enough? A few people who know me and love me is a lot!!! I'm so thankful!!! So what is this more I crave? Is is just a reflection of the emptiness I feel because I can't do this thing that I should be able to do?

Do I need to come-out to all, about my IF? Maybe. But I suspect most people do have an inkling. While I don't broadcast it, I'm not particularly secretive. But I am pretty sure that most people don't know what to do with it. IF is just plain weird. It's not a normal disease that others know what to do with. It seems that, for most people, there are only two options, in dealing with an IF person: ignore them, or say totally crazy things to them. And it seems to just go on and on and on. And on.

I was again told today to not worry about my upcoming 40th... the forties are great, my friend said. I replied that everyone tells me that, but they all have kids already.... She, who is 43 and has two daughters in their twenties, asked me if we've considered adoption.... Sigh. Maybe I'll just stay in the IF closet, after all. To any non-IFer that reads this, that may sound like a slam on adoption. Of course, IFers know that it's not. I do notice that no one gives my friend with cancer these sort of pat answers... Oh, just adopt. Ok, gee - thanks. I should have thought of that. Knowing my friend means well just doesn't really help.

I guess the bottom line is that I just feel really, really bad right now. I literally just realized... I'm due for AF any day now... Some months, I have that hope against hope. This month, not so much.

Looking back at what I've written here, I still don't know my point. But I think I need to decide I don't have to have a point. I can just write. Or cry. Or be funny. Or not. Points are optional, resolutions not required. My blog, my rules, right...


Psalm 42:5-11: Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me. By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life. I say to God, my rock: “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? As with a deadly wound in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me all the day long,“Where is your God?” Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.