Tulips & Beer

We just pulled the trigger and put a deposit down a really big, awesome vacation for next March/April: a river cruise in the Netherlands to see the tulips and visit breweries!

I am so excited, but this is bringing out mixed feelings for me.

First, I hesitated to book the trip. What if I'm pregnant by then (7 months from now)? What if I'm pregnant and sick? What if we're waiting to adopt and we get the call? What if, what if, what if?

Well, I am not going to live in the Land of What If. I refuse to stop living because parenthood is an unknown for us. Months ago, we hesitated to book a camping trip we're taking in a week because I might be pregnant by then. Well, here we are, and I'm not pregnant!

And that's the next feeling... I don't believe I will be pregnant by the time we leave for this trip. I just don't believe it. Can miracles happen in the next 7 months? Of course, I do believe in that. But it's very hard to describe how I just cannot imagine myself ever taking a pregnancy test, let alone one that reveals a positive!

And the next feeling is an awful one that I hate to admit I have. I announced our vacation on Facebook as if it were a baby announcement. No photo of a positive pregnancy test or an ultrasound, just the above field of tulips. Take that, friends with kids that can't afford the money or time for a vacation like this because of your lifestyle now! I fight feelings of sadness and jealousy every time one of you announces you're pregnant or complains about your baby exhausting you! I hope you feel a twinge of jealousy at what we get to experience that you can't because you are experiencing something we can't. Every. Single. Day.

And I hate that I feel that way. It's certain Facebook friends that know our situation and post about the trials of parenthood more than the joys that really bother me. I truly enjoy seeing photos of my friends enjoying their children and treasuring the gift. But I did enjoy feeling like I had something special for once, something others would envy. And that's just not healthy. At the end of the day, I flaunted something very material, nothing of true value or meaning. It's a hollow attempt to feel better about the void that infertility has created in my life.

And... breathe. This is going to be a special trip for us, and we are going to look forward to it and enjoy it.

God, it's exciting that we booked a really cool trip today. Thank you for the careers that allow us to afford such a special trip that will surely enrich our marriage. Please, help me to find hope. I'm really in a slump. I just can't picture us with kids, and it hurts and is very sad. Help us to stay strong together and to rely on You. I almost want to begin to ask You to lessen burden of infertility by taking away our calling to be parents. I'm starting to wonder if that's the answer and support I should be asking for. But, I'm not there yet, so please don't take that as a request!

Screw This Storm, Seriously

Can I just say that I'm so glad the 4th of July is over because that means that my neighbors who clearly don't have to wake up remotely early for anything will quit blowing up fireworks while I'm trying to sleep and be ready for work in the morning?

We met our nephew last weekend! He is wonderful. We both treasured every second and were so very happy for KK's brother and sister-in-law. They are aware of our troubles and were very supportive. I couldn't have asked for a better weekend (although I didn't get enough of the baby)!

In IF Land, here's what I've been up to.

CD 1 (June 14)

CD 24 (Today)

How cute! AF must be right around the corner for her! If that's what you're thinking, oh how I wish it were! But nope, I'm nowhere near AF, and that's why I'm in a funk. I'm better today than I was a few days ago, but this seriously bites. To get AF a month to the day after my surgery after going so long without a cycle was amazing! It felt too good to be true! Now, I feel like I dreamed it, because for the last 2+ weeks, all I've charted are a bunch of ugly, stupid, non-eventful yellow stamps after 9 days of AF. That means 1) the infertile mucus pattern continues, and 2) I haven't seen any fertile mucus this cycle, and I'm CD 26. This is a letdown. Two steps forward, two steps back.

My brain gets it. My body is still trying to find its new normal, and it's not at all uncommon for it to take months for the body to "settle down" into a pattern after a surgery like this. But it was totally mean to get a cycle so quickly and then be left hanging like this. I don't deserve this. And I can't help but ask why I'm back to my pre-op holding pattern - what was going so well those first few weeks that isn't working now?

I don't deserve this right now. The reality is that none of us dealing with IF deserve any of this. This isn't about whether or not we deserve it, but it makes it that much harder for me to handle it. Human me is searching for a cause for why this cycle is different. I review my diet, activities, stress levels, etc., and none of this adds up. Why, why, why, why, why?

Magnificat had a few nuggets of wisdom for me the other day. Specifically, the gospel on July 1 was about Jesus calming the storm, and the daily reflection by St. Pio of Pietrelcina was especially timely. "Stay in the boat in which he has placed you, and let the storm come. Long live Jesus!; you will not perish. He may sleep, but at the opportune time he will awaken to restore your calm." After meditating about that, I said to myself, "OK, God. You're in charge. I'm in this storm whether I like it or not, but You're here with me. I'm going to sit my butt back down in this boat and trust that you'll keep me safe."

What I'm really struggling with today and lately is that one can trust in Him and have faith that with God, the storm will pass, but that doesn't mean that what is ailing you will go away when you want it to, or ever. I want to be a mom, but there is no guarantee that the outcome after this storm will be parenthood. There's a difference between calm and hope. Calm during IF doesn't necessarily translate into hope during IF. I'm doing OK sitting in the boat and believe that I will survive this with God's help, but I'm not buying that being on the boat with God will lead to parenthood. And, as far as I can tell, that's absolutely correct, because no one ever promised me that I would experience parenthood. However, this reality still frickin' sucks and I hate it. There is no embracing of this cross lately, just looking at it with disgust and dragging it along because I have no other choice. I'm like the kid that was dragged to go along on errands. I have no choice, and I hate it.

God, I am sitting in the bottom of this boat with You, and I hate it. I can't help it today; I hate it. I'm glad You're here with me, I truly am, but I'm pretty pissed that this is the storm You've asked me to endure. I am sitting here with the ugliest look on my face, my arms crossed, my heart racing with anger. I don't understand why I received such a hopeful sign last month and now I'm experiencing the opposite. It feels cruel, mean, and completely unfair. What is it going to take to become a parent? I know there's no answer to that question, and that's making it worse for me right now. Please let this phase of anger and disappointment pass quickly, and help me find hope in this storm again. I know You will keep us safe and we do trust in You, but trusting in You doesn't automatically lead to parenthood. I get that, but it's a hard pill for me to swallow right now. Please dull my desire to be a parent and help me to find the beauty in this boat that I'm stuck on.