Faith

"Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to." -- Miracle on 34th Street

That is one of my favorite movies, especially the 1947 version.  I love the characters, the story, the whole thing.  And AMC showed all of my favorite Christmas movies this year.  I love having a DVR and being able to watch them, especially this movie.  That saying fits so well with what I wanted to blog about anyway.

We ate dinner with friends last night and my friend wanted to know more about our fertility struggles.  She knew we were struggling, but not really any of the details.  So, I filled her in.  Towards the end, I was telling her about my struggle with the faith.  Really, more than any of the other struggles we've had over the last three years, that's the one that really bothered me the most.  How could my faith in God waiver?  How could I doubt Him? 

I had started out by telling her that I could talk about the struggle because I was in a pretty good place right now.  There are some days that I really don't want to even think about any of it.  Lately, I've had some more peace again.  I just really need to find a way to keep that peace.  And I know that God is the only one who can help me do that.

Anyway, towards the end of our discussion, she said something about if she ever complained about her own two boys or mentioned how she really wanted a girl or anything that might upset me, that I had the right to get onto her.  And I said that if God used me to help my friends see their blessings better, then I was glad that something good had come out of this.  I realize that more good than that has come from this.  For one, my faith is really my own faith now, and is much stronger than before we started this.  For another, I am better at seeing the blessings in my life (I don't always do that, but I am better about it).  And for another, I can see God using me to help my friends see their blessings, too.  After all, haven't my friends who have already gone through similar things helped me?  Why shouldn't I pass it on, too?  Even while I'm in the middle of it.

So, here's what God put on my heart as I thought about the whole thing last night -- I want to write a book.  I want to write a book on how to keep your faith in God while struggling with infertility.  I've had ideas to write a story about people going through it in the past, but have never really embraced that idea because I'm in the middle of it right now.  It's too close to home.  But this -- this is something I wish I had for myself right now.  And maybe something that could help other people who are struggling with similar issues my husband and I are struggling with.  And I'm always trying to figure out how I can use my abilities for God.  Maybe this is it.

Now, I just have to figure out exactly what all I've done to keep my faith.  And then, I have to write it down.  What do you think?  Is this as good an idea as I think it is?

Late Night Meanderings

I have either caught the cold my husband had last week or am suffering from Cedar Fever -- thank you central Texas allergy season!  Either way, I can't breathe well enough to sleep so I'm up again, sipping hot herbal tea and letting my meandering mind escape a little in this blog post.  I don't have anything in particular to write about, but just felt like writing anyway.
My husband and I are super blessed even though we don't always acknowledge it -- I'm sure a lot of people, if not all, have the same problem.  We live six hours from my parents, ten and a half from his, about fifteen from my sister and brother.  But we don't really feel alone.  You see, our church family is amazing.  I don't know how we would have made it through the last couple of years -- or even the last four and a half -- without them.  They've helped us find jobs, they've helped us pay for car repairs, fed us, prayed for and with us, listened to and advised us, cheered us, and become family.  I honestly don't know how people live without a church family.  To me, that seems lonelier than anything on earth.  Now, we're spending our second Christmas just the two of us and unable to travel.  I was feeling rather down about it.  I have to admit that when his mom said they just couldn't make it, I was really jealous that they're going to see his grandparents instead.  It's not that we had a bad time last year when we did our first Christmas just us.  We had a great time and have even started some traditions like seeing a movie on Christmas Eve.  But I also really wanted to see his family again, to have them come down to see us and join in our new traditions.  God is watching out for us, though, as always.  We've been invited to eat Christmas dinner with some dear friends from church here.  I'm going to be brave and make a pie.  And even though it's church family instead of physical family, it's still family.
I got to go "shopping" the other day in another girl from church's closet.  I love hand-me-downs.  These are super nice and I'm almost afraid to wear some of them.  We're talking Ann Taylor and Talbots.  But they're so pretty and I'm super excited to have the stack at the end of my bed to keep trying on and eventually wearing -- a lot of them are spring and summer clothes.  And I think I may have found a dress to wear to my brother's wedding!
I don't know about you, but my family's pretty tight.  Even extended family.  My dad's baby sister (no, she's not literally a baby -- her baby is seven) came down to our area for her job and took us to dinner the other night.  It was lovely to see her.  I do wish sometimes that we lived closer to family again, but at the same time I also realize my family is spread out all over the country.
I'm still dealing with different people being pregnant/having babies, but I'm dealing.  And even though I have Christmas taken care of now except for mailing the packages to family, I'm still staying busy.  And I'm enjoying having time to read or watch movies again.  Yay for a DVR and the channels that play the old Chrismtas movies like "Christmas in Connecticut," "Miracle on 34th Street," "White Christmas," "Holiday Inn," and "It's a Wonderful Life."  Love it!
I'm guessing I should wrap up these thoughts since they aren't really going anywhere in particular and you, dear readers, whoever you are, are probably wondering why I even bothered to write them down in the first place.  This is just the way my mind works at eleven at night.  Thanks for listening to it.

Isn't it Funny

Are you like me and worry over something, considering how bad it will turn out, only to have it turn out nothing like you feared when you actually get around to doing it?  Maybe I'm just too good at worrying -- scratch the maybe.  I know I am.
I had put off calling my grandmother for several weeks now even though I hadn't talked to her in a while.  You see, I was afraid she would spend most of the time talking about my cousin and her pregnancy (this is the one on my Dad's side, who is happily married and expecting a son in April).  I just didn't want to deal with that.
But today is my grandmother's 84th birthday so I called to chat for a while.  She only mentioned my cousin and her pregnancy in passing a couple of times and the rest of the call was about everything else in my life and hers. 
I worried for nothing. 
I usually do.
And I had a very nice birthday chat with my grandmother.

Feeling Sorry For Myself

I have to admit it. . . I've been the person I don't want to be this last week.  I've been focused more on what I don't have than what I do.  I've been thinking about how unfair it is that certain people can have babies while I can't.  I've been making myself miserable and depressed.  I didn't have to be this way.  I didn't have to be grumpy.  But I told myself I could be.

Last Sunday night, I found out my unwed, 20-year-old cousin is pregnant.  I don't know about how your family works, but mine is pretty tight.  My mom has a sister and two brothers.  There are 13 of us grandchildren in all.  This is the next-to-youngest.  She had not been going to church regularly.  Her boyfriend broke up with her when he found out about the baby.  Her parents made her call our grandparents to admit the truth.  My uncle called all his siblings to let them know and I found out through the grapevine.
I have to admit I was more mad than anything.  How could God let her get pregnant in a situation which was wrong when I can't get pregnant in a situation that is right?  That was the first thing running through my head.  And I realize that I'm being very selfish.  I can't imagine making bad choices and having to live with something like that for the rest of my life.  I can't imagine having to admit to Grandpa and Grandma something like that.  I can't imagine having a sin to take forward on a Sunday morning.  But instead of thinking about her, I was thinking about myself more.

The next day, I was on facebook and noticed that one of my best friends is pregnant with her third child.  She just had a baby back in June.  How is this fair? I wondered.  Part of me wanted to scream in frustration and tell her to stop it.  A big part of my wants to jump up and down and yell and tell people to stop flaunting their fertility.  Sounds sort of funny, right?  But if I were in their shoes, would I stop having babies just because my friend couldn't have one?  That's not fair, either.  Whatever fair is.

One of my dear friends I work with handed me a card earlier this week.  This is what was in it:

God's peace conquers fears (from Psalm 3)

O Lord, I'm overwhelmed by the enemies of my peace -- fear, doubt, despair.
I look at the situation I face and I hear malevolent voices whisper:
         "God doesn't care."
         "He won't answer your prayers."
         "These problems aren't important to Him."
But then I recall your past protection --
          the way you shielded me and held me up when I thought I was lost.
In my confusion and pain, I call to you again, Father, pouring out my heart in trembling words and aching sobs.
And once again you come to me with quiet, inexplainable peace that enfolds me like a comforting blanket.
In your presence I find rest, despite my problems.
You are the strength that takes me through each day.
Yours is the courage I claim in every fear-filled confrontation.
Together, You and I not only face my enemies but vanquish them.
I find in You the deliverance I seek.
May I always remain in this place of blessing, Father.


I don't want to be that person that no one wants to be around because she always talks about her infertility.  I don't want to be that person who everyone is afraid to tell that they are pregnant because they don't want to hurt her feelings.  I don't want to be that person.  I want to be God's person.

God, give me peace again, and help me to not be grumpy, but instead to be your light to the world!  Amen.

The Cyst Full of Hope

So, I'm sure not many people would consider a cyst a good thing . . . especially one that ruptured.  But here is my story.

A couple weeks ago, on a Saturday evening, I started having some major sharp pains in my lower abdomen.  I went ahead and took a shower, not really thinking a lot about it, but I knew they were then.  When I started to black out and feel nauseated, I turned off the water and sat down on the floor beside the tub.  I thought maybe I was just a little over heated until I lost part of my dinner.  I wrapped a towel around me and walked out and told Jeremy something was wrong and to look up my symptoms on Webmd.  I'm not about to go to the emergency room if I don't have to.  When he started listing off the options of what it might be and said cyst, I called my sister.  She confirmed that she had had those symptoms with a cyst in the past.  I took some painkillers, used a heating pad and made it through the night.
The pain wasn't as bad Sunday (although sneezing about killed me) and was almost completely gone Monday.  I called the doctor anyway (otherwise my husband would have killed me) and asked if I should come in.  She got me in that afternoon.  We talked about it and I told her my suspiscions.  She did an ultrasound to see if that was probably what it was.  She told me my right ovary looked great and then moved to the left.  Sure enough, there was some fluid where a cyst had ruptured.  Then, she said something that had my doing a double-take.
She told me I had ovulated.
What?  I didn't think that was possible?  I mean, I'm not on birth control or anything, but really?  All by myself?  Four weeks after I had thought I ovulated, I ovulated?  Whoa!
I really thought that God had given me the cyst just so I could know that.  And maybe He did.  But we still didn't get pregnant.  I didn't post about this sooner, partly because of time constraints and partly because I was really hoping it would have a better ending.  I really thought it would be fun to give everyone in the family "world's greatest Grandpa/Grandma/Nana/Granddaddy/Aunt/Uncle" stuff for Christmas.  Alas.  Not to be again.
But there is still hope.  I, who thought she needed fertility treatments to ovulate, did it without them.  Now, to work on our timing. . .

Contentment

Probably one of the hardest things in the world is being content.  It doesn't sound hard, but when you really think about it, it is.  The dictionary defines content as "satisfied with what one is or has; not wanting more or anything else."  A lot of times people look at being content as the same as being happy.  It's not really.  You can be satisfied, or even not want more without being happy.  I do think happiness is easier to achieve when you are content, though.
I've talked some about what all we've been through over the last couple of years.  My husband lost the job he loved, teaching at a private Christian high school, a year and a half ago.  He spent the summer after trying to find another teaching job to no avail.  The economy hasn't exactly made it easy for private schools.  So, he started working at a local electronics store.  He started out as a person who stocked shelves and did odd jobs for an area of the store, then moved to telesales, where he answered the phone and got more money.  Last Christmas season, they moved him to returns and he's been there ever since.  It's probably one of the least appreciated jobs in retail, but he's good at it.  I think he's good at it because he's a Christian.  There may be more to it than that, but I know it helps.  It's basically the best-paid position in the store that's not commision-based.
Anyway, the point of all this being, the whole time he's been working at the electronics store, he's pretty much been unhappy.  He's been hating the fact that he has to work at such a place, that he isn't teaching, that he's not in a Christian environment, etc.  We've both had a lot of growing up to do.  Not only have we been dealing with our infertility, but also we've been living on a tight budget and dealing with him working at a job he hates.
I'm going to be honest with you, I didn't know what all good could come from this.  But I also know that you can't grow without a little adversity -- or at least, most people don't.  You know how you look at your life and wonder what lesson God is trying to teach you from it?  I've been praying and praying, not only for Jeremy to get a better job, not only for my infertility to go away, but also for us to grow stronger in our faith and better Christians as we go through this.  
Here comes the honesty -- I really think my faith rallied before my husband's.  I'm not trying to brag.  I just know that a while back, I quit being depressed all the time, quit sulking around and complaining so much.  I didn't even like myself when I was like that.  And I gave it to God.  And He gave me some peace.  That peace waivers a bit every now and then when I try to take back some of the worries and problems.  But for the most part, it's still there.
However, my husband hadn't really rallied until recently.  I got him on some St. John's Wort which helped his depression almost immediately.  Thank you, Mom, for your firm belief in herbal remedies!  But here's the part that triggered this whole post:
Sunday after services, he was talking to a friend of ours who is looking at taking a job somewhere we had lived in the past and wanted our advice on the location.  He's really happy about where his family lives now and wasn't sure about moving somewhere he didn't think was as safe even though it would be closer to his in-laws.  Here's the gist of Jeremy told him -- we've been thinking about moving for a while now and are still looking at moving in the next 18 months (by the way, I think God is making me more and more okay with that, too).  He told our friend that even if he doesn't get a teaching job for this next semester, he may look into getting a different job because he's tired of the store he's at and of working returns.  Then, he said that he may never be able to get into teaching again, but even if he doesn't, it's okay.  Even though he hates his job, we're okay.
He's learned contentment.  I've been praising God for this every day since he told me what he said.
Now, I just have to keep reminding myself not to say, "Okay, God, he's learned the lesson.  Can we move on now?"

Like Mother, Like Daughter

When I was younger, I always thought I was more like my daddy.  As I've grown up, I can see a lot of my Mom in me, too.  I like to think the two balance each other out, although I can see more good AND bad from each of them sometimes, too.  When you look at a picture of myself and my mom, our smiles are almost exactly the same.  I have cowlicks from my dad's side of the family and brown eyes like him.  I'm built like my mom, but I have my dad's skin tones.  Personality-wise, I have a bit of each of them, too.  I worry like my dad, but I'm crafty like my mom.  I learned to cook more from my dad, although my mom taught me to bake.  I have a temper more like my dad, and the ability to see irony in life like my mom.  However, there is one thing I wish I hadn't inherited from my mom and one thing I wish I had.
I wish I had not inherited her inability to say "no" quite so much.  I have a to-do list a whole page long right now and haven't even listed everything on it yet.  And so, when I got another email today asking if I could make one more thing, I said "yes, but you'll have to wait until I get a few other things done."  She was fine with that, but I still said "yes."  Not "no."
The thing I wish I had inherited a bit better is her cleaning-ness.  I know that's probably not a word, but I used it anyway.  Growing up, it seems like we cleaned every Saturday -- dusting, vacuuming, laundry.  In my house, well . . . here is my dirty little secret (pun intended).  I'm lucky if I vacuum twice or three times a year.  And dusting is about the same.  Mopping . . . that's even worse.  And let's not even discuss bathrooms.  My mom is coming for Thanksgiving and I'm very excited.  Until I look around my house and think, "AH!"  I need to clean!  So, for the last few days, I've started cleaning.  I've found my dining room table except for three stacks -- super amazing!  I vacuumed the living room and found the floor of my sewing room.  I made my husband put up all his laundry so I can actually see a bedroom instead of a walk-in closet.  Now, on to the bathrooms, kitchen, and little thing like trying to get most of the cat hair off the couch.  My sister is coming, too, and she and her husband are allergic.  I'm still excited.  Just wishing I had more of my mom's discipline when it came to cleaning so that it wasn't such a big job when I finally get around to it.