Happy Holidays?

     So Christmas is over for 2013 and in just a few short days, we will be ringing in 2014.  2013 has been one heck of a year.  I got my first "real" job teaching first grade.  My husband went  back to college to major in Chemistry, and we got serious about starting to grow our family.  It's incredibly hard to believe that this year is already over.  Mostly because I thought this year would be "the one".

     Which brings me to today's discussion: the holidays.  If you're into any sort of social media (Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest) you know how big the holiday season is for announcing the arrival of a new bundle of joy.  I saw at least seven announcements on my own Facebook page.  The thing is, once you've been in a relationship or married for a while, people start to assume that your announcement is coming soon.  The hard part is when it isn't.

     Between mine and my husband's family, we have five Christmases.  That's five holiday gatherings in which people are constantly asking if you've got anything "special" to give for Christmas this year.  Five chances of feeling ashamed when you have to answer them "no" and look as if it's intentional.  Five events in which you watch the people you love the most wait in anticipation for an announcement you know you can't make.   Don't get me wrong.  I love that they have so much anticipation for a new bundle of joy, I just hate that I have to let them down year after year.

      Let me make this clear:  Christmas sucks.   When I was little, I couldn't wait to wake my older siblings and my parents and rush into the front room to open the oodles of presents that laid before me.  But this year when I awoke on Christmas, I didn't feel excitement.  I just felt hurt.  I listened to the toddler who lives in the apartment above race through the hallway. If I was quiet, I could hear his giggles when he ripped open a present.  I wanted to be happy.  But I couldn't.  So there I sat in my front room, alone (my husband was still sleeping), looking at my lit up Christmas tree with nothing underneath.  No pretty bows, no rocking horse, no play kitchen, no Little People playsets, no baby belly laughs.  It was empty.  And that's how I felt.  Empty.

     And that's when I decided.  This will be the last Christmas I allow myself to feel like this.  Next Christmas, I will be pregnant.  And by 2015, I will have my own happy little Christmas full of baby laughs and ripping paper.  2014 is going to be a year of answers for me.  It will also be a year of pain, heartbreak, and triumph.  I'm done wallowing.  It's my turn now.

Questions

    So, I've stewed over this all day.  Should I put this out there, or is it better kept to myself.  And I decided it was worth putting into words.  So here it goes.

    I am a Christian.  I believe in God and I believe in His promises.  I know there is a path laid before me that is so much better than I could have ever imagined.  But, honesty time, some days, I don't.  Yep.  I said that. There are days when I sit, in tears, asking why the desire to be a mom would be placed so heavily on my heart if God wasn't going to let me put it to use.  There are days when I just sit and scream at God.

     Today happened to be one of those days.  I cried, I yelled, I prayed, and I cried some more.  I looked up statistics.  I looked up procedures.  I looked up scripture.  I looked up conditions.  I needed something.  There had to be something.  And then I came across this:

   
    Throughout the course of what is to come for me, I will pray this verse.  I will repeat this verse when I feel defeated.  I will repeat this verse when I feel lost, lonely, crushed, and broken-hearted.  I will pray this verse every time I see a new pregnancy announced.  I will pray this verse every time I hear "Oh, no announcement from you this year?"  I will pray this verse when I wake up.  And I will pray this verse when I go to sleep.

     I know that this struggle is far from over.  I know that my hurt and heartache isn't going anywhere.  But I also know that I am not abandoned.  My God is for me.  And if my God is for me, who shall stand against me and prosper?  No one.

         I'm going to ask something of every person who wonders across this page.  Pray for me.  Pray for my husband.  Pray for our doctor.  Don't just pray that I will get pregnant.  Pray that we have the strength to move forward.  Pray that we get the answers we need.  Pray that no matter what, we will remember who is the greatest soldier in this fight.  Pray that I will remember who is in control and pray that I can turn over what I think I have control over and simply let it be.


   

Life as an Imaginary Mother: What?

     For as long as I can remember, being a mom was always a part of my plan.  When I was little, I would play baby with my dolls, cradling them gently, brushing their hair, dressing them.  As I got older, that dream started to hold a bigger place in my heart.  As time went on, I was blessed to see my sister go through the journey of becoming a mother.  I watched her change into something bigger than herself.  I watched as she sacrificed so much to give that little, crying, pooping, and eating "thing" everything she deserved.  And I watched her do it not only once, but twice.
     And I wanted to experience that.  I've waited to feel the flutter of the first movement, the first hiccups, the first kick, punch, and kung-fu moves.  I've waited for that first time of hearing the tiniest heart beat.  I've waited for that moment when a second line appears telling me I'm pregnant.  I've waited.
     20 months.  In April of 2012, my husband and I decided we were finally ready, after 3 years of marriage, to grow our family.  We were excited, scared, anxious.  All the feelings that come with making a huge life decision.  The one I was feeling most of all was excitement.  It was FINALLY my turn.  After seeing so many friends and relatives get to experience the joy of having a baby, I was so ready to experience it for myself and I knew it was going to happen immediately.
     There was only one little problem.  It didn't.  Month after month I would wait to see if this month would be the month.  And month after month, it wasn't.  I never wanted so badly to see two lines show up a stick I had peed on just moments before in my ENTIRE LIFE.  I couldn't understand how something that I had spent the last three years trying to prevent could be so incredibly hard to accomplish.  Those I told said "Just relax.  It'll happen."  But I know it wasn't that easy.  In the beginning, I was relaxed.  I mean, trying is the fun part, right?
     After a few months, I decided to start tracking.  I used ovulation prediction kits, I tracked my basal temperature, I monitored my cycles (even go to the point I could tell you down to the minute when I would get my monthly visit).  It became a chore.  I was trying everything and it was wearing on my relationship with my husband.  And despite all the charting, the scheduling, and the silliness, I still wasn't pregnant.
     So I went to the doctor.  She told me that, because of my age, and my husbands, that they wouldn't start looking into infertility until we had been trying for at least 18 months.  18 MONTHS!  She told me to relax and let it happen.

     So, that's what I did.  I quit charting.  I quit scheduling.  For almost a year.  And wouldn't you know it, I'm still not pregnant.  And for the last 20 months, I have taken a pregnancy test, and for the last 20 months, I've gotten a big fat negative.  20 times I was told "Oh.  You think you'll get to start your journey to motherhood this month?!  HA!".

    And this brings me to today, December 13, 2013.  In exactly one month, I will go visit an OB/GYN to talk about my options and see where we can go from here. I want to remember the way I feel, the thoughts in my head, and the steps we take to make my family whole.

   If you are sharing in this struggle with me, please share your story with me.  I need to know that I am not alone.  We all do.