A very dear friend shared this scripture with me today and I love it...
For verily I say unto you, blessed is he that keepeth my commandments, whether in life or in death; and he that is faithful in tribulation, the reward of the same is greater in the kingdom of heaven.
Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation.
For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory; the hour is not yet, but is nigh at hand.
Doctrine and Covenants 58:2-4
Showing posts with label Endurance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Endurance. Show all posts
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Poorest Spot in All the Land
Last month was our Stake Conference at church. The last few Stake Conferences (we have two a year) have been amazing to me, as there has been at least one talk that was written specifically for me. I’m joking, of course. They weren’t actually written for me, but their message was exactly what I needed to hear.
This time, the talk was on waiting for blessings. Or maybe the actual topic was on something else… but that’s what I got from it. Our Stake President spoke about a particular scripture, Jacob Chapter 5 in the Book of Mormon. It was interesting because Ryan and I had read that chapter not too long ago, and I remembered it. It was an allegory using olive trees.
I hadn’t thought much of that chapter at the time, but in the talk it took on a whole new meaning for me.
21 And it came to pass that the servant said unto his master: How comest thou hither to plant this tree, or this branch of the tree? For behold, it was the poorest spot in all the land of thy vineyard.
22 And the Lord of the vineyard said unto him: Counsel me not; I knew that it was a poor spot of ground; wherefore, I said unto thee, I have nourished it this long time, and thou beholdest that it hath brought forth much fruit.
We can relate this to our wait for desired blessings. We pray and pray and it feels like those blessings never come. We feel like the poorest, most neglected spot in all the land. But God hasn’t forgotten us. In fact, He labors on our behalf even more. He is nourishing us and preparing us to bring forth great fruit.
This time, the talk was on waiting for blessings. Or maybe the actual topic was on something else… but that’s what I got from it. Our Stake President spoke about a particular scripture, Jacob Chapter 5 in the Book of Mormon. It was interesting because Ryan and I had read that chapter not too long ago, and I remembered it. It was an allegory using olive trees.
I hadn’t thought much of that chapter at the time, but in the talk it took on a whole new meaning for me.
21 And it came to pass that the servant said unto his master: How comest thou hither to plant this tree, or this branch of the tree? For behold, it was the poorest spot in all the land of thy vineyard.
22 And the Lord of the vineyard said unto him: Counsel me not; I knew that it was a poor spot of ground; wherefore, I said unto thee, I have nourished it this long time, and thou beholdest that it hath brought forth much fruit.
We can relate this to our wait for desired blessings. We pray and pray and it feels like those blessings never come. We feel like the poorest, most neglected spot in all the land. But God hasn’t forgotten us. In fact, He labors on our behalf even more. He is nourishing us and preparing us to bring forth great fruit.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Keep that Feeling
Ever since I received some answers about this long journey we’re on, my life has completely changed. No one can tell by looking on the outside… I’m still not pregnant, on a break, unsure of when our blessings will finally come… but on the inside, I feel like a different person.
My faith that motherhood will come has returned. My knowledge of which path is right for us is sure. Now I have to simply do my part and lean on my dear frienemy… patience.
In the meantime, I am doing things to protect myself from sad situations to try and keep this positive, happy attitude for as long as possible.
I reclaimed my lunch hour. I decided it is my hour in the middle of the day to do whatever I’d like. As I mentioned before, work is a difficult place for me right now. The people are awesome, but the circumstances are hard sometimes. Now, instead of eating lunch in the conference room, I use that time to run errands, read a book, watch something fun on Netflicks, or even write a quick blog entry. ;) I am loving this hour for myself immensely and it is the right decision for now.
Another thing I am doing is hiding people on Facebook. I had only hidden a few, select people before, mainly those who posted too frequently, use it for business networking, etc. I have expanded this to include people who are in a stage of life where motherhood consumes them. Not all mothers, mind you, just the ones who constantly post about their babies, kids, and the endless frustrations of being a mom. I don’t fault these women at all, so I hope no one is offended. Once I’m a mom, you probably won’t be able to shut me up about that kind of thing! :) But for now, I don’t need to see it all the time. (Disclaimer to my mommy friends who are reading this: I am not talking about you. The moms I am hiding on Facebook do not follow my blog or even comment about my situation when it does come up. They are 100% in their own mommy world, which is fine, but I don’t want to live in their world right now.)
I have continued saying “no”. I started trying out the “no” word when I began treatments again about 5 months ago. I made the decision that I am going to keep using that word, even during this treatment break. Sometimes I modify it a bit (“Yes, I’ll help with that, but I can only do such-and-such.”). I’ve learned that it is not always selfish to say no; sometimes it’s self-preservation. On the flip side, when I do say “yes”, I don’t begrudge it because I consciously chose to do it. I find that helps me enjoy the task more, and I do a better job.
There is a lot more I’m doing, but I’ll just share one last thing. I am trying to have a tougher skin and focus on what really matters. One small example… Since I posted about my experience on Sunday, I lost several readers who were following along publically. My natural instinct is to have hurt feelings and mull it over for a while, wondering why they left. Maybe I had offended them… maybe my blog isn’t “real” enough (I’ve been accused of being *too* positive in the past)… maybe it’s too religious… maybe they got bored…
In reality, it absolutely does not matter. When I started this blog, it was just to document my fertility treatments so that people who knew what I was going through wouldn’t have to ask all the time how I was doing. The money for treatments fizzled out quite quickly and what came after was years of working through the never-ending grief that is infertility. I kept writing, thinking it could be something that my future child would read someday, or at least a history for myself of our journey. That is the real purpose, not whether 100 people read along or 1000. I know it seems silly, but I am a sensitive soul, and I could be hurt by a lot of silly things. Refocusing on what’s really important is helping me to stay sane.
I feel like I have changed a lot since Sunday, and I hope this positivity and peace sticks around for a while. I find myself actually able to bear the holiday season this year, something that has been lacking in many years past.
I want to share a quote that a wonderful woman posted on here a few days back. On Sunday, I was completely low. Hopeless. The desperation and despair was worse that day than it had been in a long time. Even worse than when I found out we were losing our baby (although the miscarriage was a *huge* part of why I was feeling so low on Sunday – delayed despair I guess). I thought it just couldn’t get any worse. It was at that moment, that God showed mercy on me, and gave me answers I had waited 7 years to hear. This quote describes that moment perfectly.
When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.
- Harriet Beecher Stowe
My faith that motherhood will come has returned. My knowledge of which path is right for us is sure. Now I have to simply do my part and lean on my dear frienemy… patience.
In the meantime, I am doing things to protect myself from sad situations to try and keep this positive, happy attitude for as long as possible.
I reclaimed my lunch hour. I decided it is my hour in the middle of the day to do whatever I’d like. As I mentioned before, work is a difficult place for me right now. The people are awesome, but the circumstances are hard sometimes. Now, instead of eating lunch in the conference room, I use that time to run errands, read a book, watch something fun on Netflicks, or even write a quick blog entry. ;) I am loving this hour for myself immensely and it is the right decision for now.
Another thing I am doing is hiding people on Facebook. I had only hidden a few, select people before, mainly those who posted too frequently, use it for business networking, etc. I have expanded this to include people who are in a stage of life where motherhood consumes them. Not all mothers, mind you, just the ones who constantly post about their babies, kids, and the endless frustrations of being a mom. I don’t fault these women at all, so I hope no one is offended. Once I’m a mom, you probably won’t be able to shut me up about that kind of thing! :) But for now, I don’t need to see it all the time. (Disclaimer to my mommy friends who are reading this: I am not talking about you. The moms I am hiding on Facebook do not follow my blog or even comment about my situation when it does come up. They are 100% in their own mommy world, which is fine, but I don’t want to live in their world right now.)
I have continued saying “no”. I started trying out the “no” word when I began treatments again about 5 months ago. I made the decision that I am going to keep using that word, even during this treatment break. Sometimes I modify it a bit (“Yes, I’ll help with that, but I can only do such-and-such.”). I’ve learned that it is not always selfish to say no; sometimes it’s self-preservation. On the flip side, when I do say “yes”, I don’t begrudge it because I consciously chose to do it. I find that helps me enjoy the task more, and I do a better job.
There is a lot more I’m doing, but I’ll just share one last thing. I am trying to have a tougher skin and focus on what really matters. One small example… Since I posted about my experience on Sunday, I lost several readers who were following along publically. My natural instinct is to have hurt feelings and mull it over for a while, wondering why they left. Maybe I had offended them… maybe my blog isn’t “real” enough (I’ve been accused of being *too* positive in the past)… maybe it’s too religious… maybe they got bored…
In reality, it absolutely does not matter. When I started this blog, it was just to document my fertility treatments so that people who knew what I was going through wouldn’t have to ask all the time how I was doing. The money for treatments fizzled out quite quickly and what came after was years of working through the never-ending grief that is infertility. I kept writing, thinking it could be something that my future child would read someday, or at least a history for myself of our journey. That is the real purpose, not whether 100 people read along or 1000. I know it seems silly, but I am a sensitive soul, and I could be hurt by a lot of silly things. Refocusing on what’s really important is helping me to stay sane.
I feel like I have changed a lot since Sunday, and I hope this positivity and peace sticks around for a while. I find myself actually able to bear the holiday season this year, something that has been lacking in many years past.
I want to share a quote that a wonderful woman posted on here a few days back. On Sunday, I was completely low. Hopeless. The desperation and despair was worse that day than it had been in a long time. Even worse than when I found out we were losing our baby (although the miscarriage was a *huge* part of why I was feeling so low on Sunday – delayed despair I guess). I thought it just couldn’t get any worse. It was at that moment, that God showed mercy on me, and gave me answers I had waited 7 years to hear. This quote describes that moment perfectly.
When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.
- Harriet Beecher Stowe
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
God's Promise
I love when I read a new scripture. By new I mean one that I have probably read before, but that takes on a whole new meaning when read again in a different situation or mindset.
I came across this one in Sunday School and it hit me very hard. This is a flat-out promise from God. And God doesn’t break promises. What a comfort this was for me… I’ve probably read it 30 times since Sunday.
Perhaps things may be confusing and heartbreaking now, but God promises they won’t always be that way. No matter what the struggle or situation, I think everyone can gain something from reading this promise.
And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them.
Isaiah 42:16
I came across this one in Sunday School and it hit me very hard. This is a flat-out promise from God. And God doesn’t break promises. What a comfort this was for me… I’ve probably read it 30 times since Sunday.
Perhaps things may be confusing and heartbreaking now, but God promises they won’t always be that way. No matter what the struggle or situation, I think everyone can gain something from reading this promise.
And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them.
Isaiah 42:16
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Seeing the End from the Beginning
A few Sunday's ago, I had what I refer to as a 'bitter day'. It was just one of those days when the sadness, jealousy and anger were overwhelming. It was also the first Sunday of the month, which means it was the time when church members are invited up to share their testimony in front of the congregation.
Because it was a bitter day, it felt that everyone was talking about receiving answers to their prayers. Sitting in the pew below, I couldn't get the thought out of my head that my one consistent prayer still hasn't been answered. They talked about the faith they had, and how God rewarded that faith with some blessing they desired. Of course, all I heard was: If you had faith, you'd get your blessing too.
Afterward, as I sat in class waiting for Sunday School to start, I was digging in my church bag and found an old quote from a previous class. It was from Elder Boyd K. Packer:
"Shortly after I was called as a General Authority, I went to Elder Harold B. Lee for counsel. He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
"I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, 'The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.' I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: 'You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you'."
That's me!! I want to see the end from the beginning.
I feel as though I've been walking in years of darkness. Sometimes it is so dark, I'm sure I must have gotten lost. But deep down I know that I have to keep going, if I ever want to see that light that is waiting to show me the way.
Although I still felt frustrated, and a little bitter, finding this quote helped me to take a deep breath and continue through the day. I am grateful that, even though He hasn't chosen to bless me with my biggest desire, God does reach out and touch me sometimes, and reminds me not to give up.
Because it was a bitter day, it felt that everyone was talking about receiving answers to their prayers. Sitting in the pew below, I couldn't get the thought out of my head that my one consistent prayer still hasn't been answered. They talked about the faith they had, and how God rewarded that faith with some blessing they desired. Of course, all I heard was: If you had faith, you'd get your blessing too.
Afterward, as I sat in class waiting for Sunday School to start, I was digging in my church bag and found an old quote from a previous class. It was from Elder Boyd K. Packer:
"Shortly after I was called as a General Authority, I went to Elder Harold B. Lee for counsel. He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
"I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, 'The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.' I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: 'You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you'."
That's me!! I want to see the end from the beginning.
I feel as though I've been walking in years of darkness. Sometimes it is so dark, I'm sure I must have gotten lost. But deep down I know that I have to keep going, if I ever want to see that light that is waiting to show me the way.
Although I still felt frustrated, and a little bitter, finding this quote helped me to take a deep breath and continue through the day. I am grateful that, even though He hasn't chosen to bless me with my biggest desire, God does reach out and touch me sometimes, and reminds me not to give up.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I just haven't met you yet!
I have a personal, strict rule about this blog: No going back and reading entries. Why? Because it is monumentally depressing! Starting treatment, stopping treatment, plans that never came to be: why torture myself by reliving all of that?
I have started and stopped so many plans it can make my head spin. Many times, money was the contributing factor. If money were no object, my guess is I would have continued from one step to the next when I started this whole infertility testing/treatment process back in 2004.
But money aside, I still have jumped ship during times I could have kept going. Why? If it is something I want so badly, why am I having difficulty sticking with a particular protocol?
After much thought, I think I know the answer, or at least a portion of the answer. Although I know I will have a family someday, I have no idea where this family will come from. Will it be through foster care, adoption, fertility treatments, or just a surprise on its own? Will it be because I used acupuncture, relaxation, a fertility supplement, or just “forgot about it”?
Every time I start working on one area, the fear comes over me that maybe I am supposed to be doing something else. If I try to just relax and live my life, I fear I am wasting time. I’m not getting any younger. When I try a natural infertility technique, I wonder if I should be spending my time and energy pursuing foster care instead. It’s a never-ending cycle. I can never win!
And all of this is to achieve something that is basically unknown: The pursuit of a baby. My baby. This illusive gift that I know will be wonderful and worth every minute of heartache.
But, really, who is this person? Boy or girl? A blondie like me, a brunette like hubby, or a different ethnicity entirely? Have they already been born and are making their way into our home, or will I carry them for nine months?
If I knew these answers, I could choose a path, and you would not be able to detour me from it. But with all the unknowns, I wander without answers, and jump from plan to plan, just waiting for inspiration…
Oh, how music can say things I can’t. I love this song because it speaks so true to how I am feeling, and is so upbeat in the process. You can’t listen to this song and not feel happy. I may falter, but I’ll never give up. And when I meet my baby, I’ll know. :) Someday, SOMEDAY, I’ll find the right path and I’ll get there.
I'm not surprised,
Not everything lasts,
I've broken my heart so many times I stopped keeping track.
Talk myself in,
I talk myself out,
I get all worked up,
Then I let myself down,
I tried so very hard not to lose it;
I came up with a million excuses,
I thought I thought of every possibility.
I might have to wait,
I’ll never give up,
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck,
Wherever you are,
Whenever it's right,
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life.
And I know that it will be so amazing,
And being in your life is gonna change me,
And now I can see every possibility.
And someday I know it'll all turn out,
And I'll work to work it out,
And promise you kid, I'll give so much more than I get,
I just haven't met you yet.
Listen to the song:
CLICK HERE
I have started and stopped so many plans it can make my head spin. Many times, money was the contributing factor. If money were no object, my guess is I would have continued from one step to the next when I started this whole infertility testing/treatment process back in 2004.
But money aside, I still have jumped ship during times I could have kept going. Why? If it is something I want so badly, why am I having difficulty sticking with a particular protocol?
After much thought, I think I know the answer, or at least a portion of the answer. Although I know I will have a family someday, I have no idea where this family will come from. Will it be through foster care, adoption, fertility treatments, or just a surprise on its own? Will it be because I used acupuncture, relaxation, a fertility supplement, or just “forgot about it”?
Every time I start working on one area, the fear comes over me that maybe I am supposed to be doing something else. If I try to just relax and live my life, I fear I am wasting time. I’m not getting any younger. When I try a natural infertility technique, I wonder if I should be spending my time and energy pursuing foster care instead. It’s a never-ending cycle. I can never win!
And all of this is to achieve something that is basically unknown: The pursuit of a baby. My baby. This illusive gift that I know will be wonderful and worth every minute of heartache.
But, really, who is this person? Boy or girl? A blondie like me, a brunette like hubby, or a different ethnicity entirely? Have they already been born and are making their way into our home, or will I carry them for nine months?
If I knew these answers, I could choose a path, and you would not be able to detour me from it. But with all the unknowns, I wander without answers, and jump from plan to plan, just waiting for inspiration…
Oh, how music can say things I can’t. I love this song because it speaks so true to how I am feeling, and is so upbeat in the process. You can’t listen to this song and not feel happy. I may falter, but I’ll never give up. And when I meet my baby, I’ll know. :) Someday, SOMEDAY, I’ll find the right path and I’ll get there.
I'm not surprised,
Not everything lasts,
I've broken my heart so many times I stopped keeping track.
Talk myself in,
I talk myself out,
I get all worked up,
Then I let myself down,
I tried so very hard not to lose it;
I came up with a million excuses,
I thought I thought of every possibility.
I might have to wait,
I’ll never give up,
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck,
Wherever you are,
Whenever it's right,
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life.
And I know that it will be so amazing,
And being in your life is gonna change me,
And now I can see every possibility.
And someday I know it'll all turn out,
And I'll work to work it out,
And promise you kid, I'll give so much more than I get,
I just haven't met you yet.
Listen to the song:
CLICK HERE
Friday, January 22, 2010
Appreciating the Sun
I love the rain. In fact, one of my dreams is to live in Seattle someday. Now, I know I’ve only been there once, and during the best time of year, but I can’t help feeling connected to that city. I love it!
Anyway, I digress.
California has been ambushed by rain storms. For a ‘desert’, we sure are drowning here! It’s been 5 or 6 days straight of dark skies, violent wind, and periodic downpours.
Today, I was heading out to lunch when I noticed the skies part. Suddenly, the sun emerged and beat down on the wet, clean earth. I raised my face up to it and felt its warmth. After not seeing the sun for so long, I couldn’t help but pause and appreciate its presence.
At that moment, a thought came to mind. If this was your typical California day, I wouldn’t have even noticed the sun. I might have even complained that it was too bright, or too hot. But because I had felt the rain for so long, I appreciated when the sun finally emerged.
Such is true about life: You have to go through the rainy days to appreciate the sun.
Although I love rainy weather, I don’t much care for rain in life. All of our trials, heartache and disappointment pour down on us… and we wonder if it will ever end.
But inevitably the sun will come out and, when it does, we will notice its warmth and feel its glow more than ever before. And that feeling will be worth all this rain.
So, for right now, we’ll just open our umbrella, dance in a few puddles, and wait for the sun.
Anyway, I digress.
California has been ambushed by rain storms. For a ‘desert’, we sure are drowning here! It’s been 5 or 6 days straight of dark skies, violent wind, and periodic downpours.
Today, I was heading out to lunch when I noticed the skies part. Suddenly, the sun emerged and beat down on the wet, clean earth. I raised my face up to it and felt its warmth. After not seeing the sun for so long, I couldn’t help but pause and appreciate its presence.
At that moment, a thought came to mind. If this was your typical California day, I wouldn’t have even noticed the sun. I might have even complained that it was too bright, or too hot. But because I had felt the rain for so long, I appreciated when the sun finally emerged.
Such is true about life: You have to go through the rainy days to appreciate the sun.
Although I love rainy weather, I don’t much care for rain in life. All of our trials, heartache and disappointment pour down on us… and we wonder if it will ever end.
But inevitably the sun will come out and, when it does, we will notice its warmth and feel its glow more than ever before. And that feeling will be worth all this rain.
So, for right now, we’ll just open our umbrella, dance in a few puddles, and wait for the sun.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
The Price We Pay
A passage read in church two weeks ago touched me greatly.
Those who aren't members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS) may not know some of the amazing stories of pioneers who made their way across the country to the Salt Lake Valley. One of the most heartbreaking was the Martin Handcart Company.
Because of the unexpected delays and other unfortunate circumstances, over two hundred members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies died before they could reach the Salt Lake Valley. None of the other handcart companies coming to the valley before or after them suffered so many problems.
Some years after the Martin company made their journey to Salt Lake City, a teacher in a Church class commented how foolish it was for the Martin company to come across the plains when it did. The teacher criticized the Church leaders for allowing a company to make such a journey without more supplies and protection.
An old man sitting in the classroom listened for a few moments and then spoke out, asking that the criticism be stopped. He said, “Mistake to send the Handcart Company out so late in the season? Yes. But I was in that company and my wife was in it. … We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the Church, because everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives, for we became acquainted with him in our extremities [difficulties].
“I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it. … I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.
“Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company.”
During our trials and struggles, do we ever look back to see who is pushing us through? I know there have been many times the angels of God have pushed me onward. How selfish I've been not to acknowledge that.
This gentleman (who had been through hell and back) stated, "Everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives, for we became acquainted with him in our extremities. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay".
Is it possible to consider my trials, including infertility, as a privilege? It takes such a strong person to think of hardships in this way. I'm afraid I am not that strong.
Although I have never experienced a fraction of the heartache felt by the Martin Handcart Company, I believe in the last six years I have come to know God more now than I ever have before.
And for that, I am grateful.
Those who aren't members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS) may not know some of the amazing stories of pioneers who made their way across the country to the Salt Lake Valley. One of the most heartbreaking was the Martin Handcart Company.
Because of the unexpected delays and other unfortunate circumstances, over two hundred members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies died before they could reach the Salt Lake Valley. None of the other handcart companies coming to the valley before or after them suffered so many problems.
Some years after the Martin company made their journey to Salt Lake City, a teacher in a Church class commented how foolish it was for the Martin company to come across the plains when it did. The teacher criticized the Church leaders for allowing a company to make such a journey without more supplies and protection.
An old man sitting in the classroom listened for a few moments and then spoke out, asking that the criticism be stopped. He said, “Mistake to send the Handcart Company out so late in the season? Yes. But I was in that company and my wife was in it. … We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the Church, because everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives, for we became acquainted with him in our extremities [difficulties].
“I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it. … I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.
“Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company.”
During our trials and struggles, do we ever look back to see who is pushing us through? I know there have been many times the angels of God have pushed me onward. How selfish I've been not to acknowledge that.
This gentleman (who had been through hell and back) stated, "Everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives, for we became acquainted with him in our extremities. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay".
Is it possible to consider my trials, including infertility, as a privilege? It takes such a strong person to think of hardships in this way. I'm afraid I am not that strong.
Although I have never experienced a fraction of the heartache felt by the Martin Handcart Company, I believe in the last six years I have come to know God more now than I ever have before.
And for that, I am grateful.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Letter from Heavenly Father
This was shared by one of my YCLs as part of a Devotional at Girl's Camp. It really spoke to me, and I didn't want to forget it:
Dear Daughter,
I remember well the day you left my side, wandered through the veil and ventured forth to fulfill you earthly mission. I had a tear in my eye as I clothed your spirit in a cloak of love and sent you off to school. Be assured that my thoughts are with you now, as always.
I love you with all of my heart. I know your life, the good, the bad, your grief, your disappointments, your unrewarded efforts, your frustrations. But always remember--all that I have is yours if you will only come home again.
Daughter, realize that in you I have placed a bit of heaven. No one was exempt. I love all of my children. You have some blessed gift, some talent, some little part of me in you. Search for it, develop it, use it, and most importantly, share it with others. If you really love me, then help others find themselves and lead them to me. Show your love by serving others.
Repent of your failings and humble yourself. Make yourself ever teachable and continually strive to improve. I gave you weaknesses to help you be humble. Don't condemn me for that. I did it because I love you. Be full of hope. Don't let discouragement engulf you. I'll come if you need me.
Daughter, cease your idle contentions. Be a peacemaker, for it breaks my heart to see so many of my children fighting. If they could only see what I have hoped, planned and desired for them. My heart breaks as I watch them. But you, faithful daughter, are my hope. It is through you that my work must proceed. You haven't much time and there is so much work to be done. I beg you to get started. Accomplish the mission I gave to you before you left me. I'll help you. I'll never be too busy or too far away to come to you. I'm nearer to you always than you might suspect. I have so much I would like to tell you, but I can't here.
Come to me often in prayer. I love to talk to you, my beloved daughter. Be diligent in my work and my kingdom shall be yours. I'd love to take you in my arms, but I too, must wait patiently: that time will come. Till then I leave you my peace, my blessing, my love, and never forget I am nearby whenever you need me.
I love you and miss you so very much and, oh, how I am looking forward to your return to me.
All my love,
Your Heavenly Father
This 'letter' truly feels like it was written for me. I especially love the line, I gave you weaknesses to help you be humble. It seems so obvious now, but I had never thought of it quite that way before. I am trying to become humble so that someday, as the scripture says, my weaknesses can become strengths.
Dear Daughter,
I remember well the day you left my side, wandered through the veil and ventured forth to fulfill you earthly mission. I had a tear in my eye as I clothed your spirit in a cloak of love and sent you off to school. Be assured that my thoughts are with you now, as always.
I love you with all of my heart. I know your life, the good, the bad, your grief, your disappointments, your unrewarded efforts, your frustrations. But always remember--all that I have is yours if you will only come home again.
Daughter, realize that in you I have placed a bit of heaven. No one was exempt. I love all of my children. You have some blessed gift, some talent, some little part of me in you. Search for it, develop it, use it, and most importantly, share it with others. If you really love me, then help others find themselves and lead them to me. Show your love by serving others.
Repent of your failings and humble yourself. Make yourself ever teachable and continually strive to improve. I gave you weaknesses to help you be humble. Don't condemn me for that. I did it because I love you. Be full of hope. Don't let discouragement engulf you. I'll come if you need me.
Daughter, cease your idle contentions. Be a peacemaker, for it breaks my heart to see so many of my children fighting. If they could only see what I have hoped, planned and desired for them. My heart breaks as I watch them. But you, faithful daughter, are my hope. It is through you that my work must proceed. You haven't much time and there is so much work to be done. I beg you to get started. Accomplish the mission I gave to you before you left me. I'll help you. I'll never be too busy or too far away to come to you. I'm nearer to you always than you might suspect. I have so much I would like to tell you, but I can't here.
Come to me often in prayer. I love to talk to you, my beloved daughter. Be diligent in my work and my kingdom shall be yours. I'd love to take you in my arms, but I too, must wait patiently: that time will come. Till then I leave you my peace, my blessing, my love, and never forget I am nearby whenever you need me.
I love you and miss you so very much and, oh, how I am looking forward to your return to me.
All my love,
Your Heavenly Father
This 'letter' truly feels like it was written for me. I especially love the line, I gave you weaknesses to help you be humble. It seems so obvious now, but I had never thought of it quite that way before. I am trying to become humble so that someday, as the scripture says, my weaknesses can become strengths.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
The Climb
Nearly three years ago, when we first moved into our house, I took dinner to a young couple in our church who had just had their first baby. At that time, I had been trying to begin my family for three years. I remember looking at this new mom. She seemed so young and so newly married, it made me wonder, why can she begin her family while I still have to wait?
I barely knew her, so I was a bit nervous dropping off the pizza I had picked up for them on the way home from work. I practically threw the pizza in her arms and almost rushed away without even seeing the baby!
Nearly three years later, tonight in fact, I again took dinner to this new mom. She had her third child last Friday. This beautiful woman has had three children, while I am still waiting for one.
She is the sweetest gal, and I like her very much. As I left their house (a mother, father, and three young children), I couldn't help but think how strange it is to watch someone else live your life. Not really your life, but the life you always thought you would have.
Being Mormon, I am constantly surrounded by other people living my life. They are everywhere I look. Their families grow, year after year, and I stay the same.
Learning to live a life that is different than you imagined is a work in progress. I'm not sure I will ever be completely content with where I am right now. So, I am trying to enjoy the process.
A while back, I compared my infertility to a miserable but incredibly rewarding hike I did last summer. Since then, I have noticed even more how similar these experiences really are.
I recently heard a song that uses the same climbing analogy, encouraging you to learn to enjoy (or at least appreciate) the journey. I am supposed to be learning something from all this. What? I still don't know. Maybe that's the reason I've been climbing for so long...
I can almost see it
That dream I'm dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head sayin,
You'll never reach it.
Every step I'm taking
Every move I make
Feels lost with no direction
My faith is shaking
But I got to keep trying
Got to keep my head held high
There's always going to be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always going to be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb
The struggles I'm facing,
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down but
No I'm not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments
That I'm going to remember most
Just got to keep going
I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on
There's always going to be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always going to be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb
I barely knew her, so I was a bit nervous dropping off the pizza I had picked up for them on the way home from work. I practically threw the pizza in her arms and almost rushed away without even seeing the baby!
Nearly three years later, tonight in fact, I again took dinner to this new mom. She had her third child last Friday. This beautiful woman has had three children, while I am still waiting for one.
She is the sweetest gal, and I like her very much. As I left their house (a mother, father, and three young children), I couldn't help but think how strange it is to watch someone else live your life. Not really your life, but the life you always thought you would have.
Being Mormon, I am constantly surrounded by other people living my life. They are everywhere I look. Their families grow, year after year, and I stay the same.
Learning to live a life that is different than you imagined is a work in progress. I'm not sure I will ever be completely content with where I am right now. So, I am trying to enjoy the process.
A while back, I compared my infertility to a miserable but incredibly rewarding hike I did last summer. Since then, I have noticed even more how similar these experiences really are.
I recently heard a song that uses the same climbing analogy, encouraging you to learn to enjoy (or at least appreciate) the journey. I am supposed to be learning something from all this. What? I still don't know. Maybe that's the reason I've been climbing for so long...
I can almost see it
That dream I'm dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head sayin,
You'll never reach it.
Every step I'm taking
Every move I make
Feels lost with no direction
My faith is shaking
But I got to keep trying
Got to keep my head held high
There's always going to be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always going to be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb
The struggles I'm facing,
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down but
No I'm not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments
That I'm going to remember most
Just got to keep going
I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on
There's always going to be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always going to be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb
Sunday, February 1, 2009
MIA and I'll tell you why (100th Post)
This last month has been quite the battle. I almost left this part of my journey unrecorded because I was nervous about putting it out there. I have seen friends be open and honest about their struggles, this issue in particular. But my pride stopped me from taking this next step.
I questioned Ryan about whether I should approach this topic so publicly. I was somewhat shocked by his response. He made me feel normal, and encouraged me to share this experience.
For the last year or so, I have been going in a downward spiral. Completely stalled in pursuing adoption or fertility treatments for an indeterminate amount of time, I slowly became more and more hopeless that things would ever improve, that I would ever have my family.
It started out as a funk, which turned into sadness, which turned into depression.
I tried everything I could think of to pull myself out of it. I prayed like never before. I journaled my feelings. I read scriptures. I started exercising more, including taking a weekly dance class. I tried herbs and acupuncture. I concentrated on work. I meditated and relaxed. I forced myself to think positively. I planned fun activities with Ryan. I served others at church. I cuddled with my cat. I vented to friends. I tried a new hobby. It wasn't getting better.
So, I turned to a psychologist, who immediately diagnosed me with depression (I didn't know that at the time though - I just knew she said I had 'symptoms' of depression). I worked with her for five months. It was only getting worse.
Finally, at the urging of loved ones and the psychologist, I made an appointment with my doctor. She couldn't see me for three weeks, so in the meantime I forged ahead.
After just one week, I couldn't take it anymore. I was near desperation. I knew this had gone way beyond just wanting a baby. Way beyond sadness. This was a different creature altogether. I called my doctor's office and told them I needed to come in right away.
While I was waiting to hear back from them, I ran an errand to Kinkos. There was a mix-up and the girl behind the counter was frustrated. Once back in my car, I burst into hysterical tears over the incident. This is the place I was at. This had become common behavior for me.
Just then, my phone rang. The doctor could see me right then. I went back to my office, told my boss I would be missing my afternoon appointment, and headed over there.
Through my tears I told my doctor how I was feeling and the thoughts I'd been having. I told her some of the things I had tried to make it better. I asked her what I should do.
She stated there was no doubt I had full-blown depression. She said I had let this go too long before seeking help, but she was glad I finally came in.
I asked her what was going on with me. How did my sadness turn into depression? She compared it to losing a loved one. Most people go through the grieving process step-by-step, but some get 'stuck' at a certain point. She's seen the same thing happen with women who have dealt with infertility for as long as I have. After a while of living in a state of sadness/hopelessness/anger, the chemical balance in your brain can literally change. That's when you might need a little more help.
So, she offered me some help. Swallowing my pride and accepting it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Even as my ego and stubbornness begged me to say no, the Holy Spirit (through an avalanche of tears) forced me to say yes.
She cleared up misconceptions. Yes, even I, a graduate of Psychology, had misconceptions. I would venture to say that everyone does, unless they've been through this themselves.
Since that appointment some amazing things have happened. Last week, for the first time in months, I was able to get out of bed without two or more hours worth of pep talks. Ryan and I had a disagreement and I got over it, instead of crying uncontrollably until 4am. Not only have I been making dinner again, but I am enjoying it.
Perhaps the most amazing thing is I have hope again. It is small, but it's there. Last night, I pulled the pre-natal vitamins out of the medicine cabinet. For five years I took these pills just in case, by some miracle, I actually became pregnant. Several months ago, I threw them in the back of the cabinet saying, "Why bother?" Last night I thought, "Why not?"
I still have all those emotions that come with infertility: pain, sadness, loneliness, bitterness. I still cry sometimes when I feel these things. But I also found the other side of life again: joy, faith, hope, charity. I feel so much closer to my Heavenly Father, and I can finally see His wisdom again, even when I am feeling hurt or impatient.
When I first noticed I was having trouble conceiving, someone told me to 'humble myself and it will happen'. I took a lot of offense to that at the time. Although it still stings today, I look back and realize that I am a lot more prideful than I thought I was. It took this experience to make me see that sometimes I really have to let go. Perhaps I needed to lose control to truly learn I wasn't in control in the first place.
This is my 100th post. My first post was written when I was starting my first Clomid cycle (in 2006). I ended with the following:
I am cautiously optimistic. Maybe this is all my body needs...just a little push. Or maybe it's just the first step in what may be a long process...
Oh, I had no idea, huh? What a process this has been!
Last summer, Ryan and I hiked to the Lundy Mine. Ryan had been on this hike one time as a child, and I had never been. Needless to say, neither one of us knew the trail well enough to know how far we'd hiked and how much further we had to go. There were no mile markers and no maps along the way. All we knew was the mine was at the end of this trail. If we stayed on the trail, we would get to the mine eventually. But we had no idea when.
About a half-hour or so into the hike, I literally sat down and said I didn't want to do it anymore. I was tired. I wasn't prepared for this. I was too out of shape. It was too steep. This was harder than I thought. This was not what I was expecting. After a few minutes and some tears, I changed my mind and we pressed ahead.
At that moment, had I known we weren't even a fraction of the way there, I would have quit. No question about it. Had I known the steepness and the length of the trail that was ahead, I would have second-guessed my ability to do it. It was the not knowing that was the hardest part, but also the part that kept me going. The end of the trail could be around any curve, and I wanted to make it to the end.
Much is the same with this 'trail' I'm on now. Had I known at Post #1 where I would be at Post #100, I might have sat down and quit. "I'm tired. I wasn't prepared for this. It's harder than I thought." I would have second-guessed my ability to do it.
There may be steeper paths ahead, rocky roads and long stretches. It's the not knowing that is the hardest part, but also the part that keeps me going. The end of the trail could be around any curve, and I want to make it to the end.
I questioned Ryan about whether I should approach this topic so publicly. I was somewhat shocked by his response. He made me feel normal, and encouraged me to share this experience.
For the last year or so, I have been going in a downward spiral. Completely stalled in pursuing adoption or fertility treatments for an indeterminate amount of time, I slowly became more and more hopeless that things would ever improve, that I would ever have my family.
It started out as a funk, which turned into sadness, which turned into depression.
I tried everything I could think of to pull myself out of it. I prayed like never before. I journaled my feelings. I read scriptures. I started exercising more, including taking a weekly dance class. I tried herbs and acupuncture. I concentrated on work. I meditated and relaxed. I forced myself to think positively. I planned fun activities with Ryan. I served others at church. I cuddled with my cat. I vented to friends. I tried a new hobby. It wasn't getting better.
So, I turned to a psychologist, who immediately diagnosed me with depression (I didn't know that at the time though - I just knew she said I had 'symptoms' of depression). I worked with her for five months. It was only getting worse.
Finally, at the urging of loved ones and the psychologist, I made an appointment with my doctor. She couldn't see me for three weeks, so in the meantime I forged ahead.
After just one week, I couldn't take it anymore. I was near desperation. I knew this had gone way beyond just wanting a baby. Way beyond sadness. This was a different creature altogether. I called my doctor's office and told them I needed to come in right away.
While I was waiting to hear back from them, I ran an errand to Kinkos. There was a mix-up and the girl behind the counter was frustrated. Once back in my car, I burst into hysterical tears over the incident. This is the place I was at. This had become common behavior for me.
Just then, my phone rang. The doctor could see me right then. I went back to my office, told my boss I would be missing my afternoon appointment, and headed over there.
Through my tears I told my doctor how I was feeling and the thoughts I'd been having. I told her some of the things I had tried to make it better. I asked her what I should do.
She stated there was no doubt I had full-blown depression. She said I had let this go too long before seeking help, but she was glad I finally came in.
I asked her what was going on with me. How did my sadness turn into depression? She compared it to losing a loved one. Most people go through the grieving process step-by-step, but some get 'stuck' at a certain point. She's seen the same thing happen with women who have dealt with infertility for as long as I have. After a while of living in a state of sadness/hopelessness/anger, the chemical balance in your brain can literally change. That's when you might need a little more help.
So, she offered me some help. Swallowing my pride and accepting it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Even as my ego and stubbornness begged me to say no, the Holy Spirit (through an avalanche of tears) forced me to say yes.
She cleared up misconceptions. Yes, even I, a graduate of Psychology, had misconceptions. I would venture to say that everyone does, unless they've been through this themselves.
Since that appointment some amazing things have happened. Last week, for the first time in months, I was able to get out of bed without two or more hours worth of pep talks. Ryan and I had a disagreement and I got over it, instead of crying uncontrollably until 4am. Not only have I been making dinner again, but I am enjoying it.
Perhaps the most amazing thing is I have hope again. It is small, but it's there. Last night, I pulled the pre-natal vitamins out of the medicine cabinet. For five years I took these pills just in case, by some miracle, I actually became pregnant. Several months ago, I threw them in the back of the cabinet saying, "Why bother?" Last night I thought, "Why not?"
I still have all those emotions that come with infertility: pain, sadness, loneliness, bitterness. I still cry sometimes when I feel these things. But I also found the other side of life again: joy, faith, hope, charity. I feel so much closer to my Heavenly Father, and I can finally see His wisdom again, even when I am feeling hurt or impatient.
When I first noticed I was having trouble conceiving, someone told me to 'humble myself and it will happen'. I took a lot of offense to that at the time. Although it still stings today, I look back and realize that I am a lot more prideful than I thought I was. It took this experience to make me see that sometimes I really have to let go. Perhaps I needed to lose control to truly learn I wasn't in control in the first place.
This is my 100th post. My first post was written when I was starting my first Clomid cycle (in 2006). I ended with the following:
I am cautiously optimistic. Maybe this is all my body needs...just a little push. Or maybe it's just the first step in what may be a long process...
Oh, I had no idea, huh? What a process this has been!
Last summer, Ryan and I hiked to the Lundy Mine. Ryan had been on this hike one time as a child, and I had never been. Needless to say, neither one of us knew the trail well enough to know how far we'd hiked and how much further we had to go. There were no mile markers and no maps along the way. All we knew was the mine was at the end of this trail. If we stayed on the trail, we would get to the mine eventually. But we had no idea when.
About a half-hour or so into the hike, I literally sat down and said I didn't want to do it anymore. I was tired. I wasn't prepared for this. I was too out of shape. It was too steep. This was harder than I thought. This was not what I was expecting. After a few minutes and some tears, I changed my mind and we pressed ahead.
At that moment, had I known we weren't even a fraction of the way there, I would have quit. No question about it. Had I known the steepness and the length of the trail that was ahead, I would have second-guessed my ability to do it. It was the not knowing that was the hardest part, but also the part that kept me going. The end of the trail could be around any curve, and I wanted to make it to the end.
Much is the same with this 'trail' I'm on now. Had I known at Post #1 where I would be at Post #100, I might have sat down and quit. "I'm tired. I wasn't prepared for this. It's harder than I thought." I would have second-guessed my ability to do it.
There may be steeper paths ahead, rocky roads and long stretches. It's the not knowing that is the hardest part, but also the part that keeps me going. The end of the trail could be around any curve, and I want to make it to the end.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Holidays
This post is going to seem like a dramatic contradiction from my last one. And it shouldn't be. I really am trying to find joy in this journey, and some kind of happiness this holiday season. And I have been successful for the most part.
Let me just say I am really looking forward to Christmas and celebrating the reason for the season, the birth of Jesus Christ. I know all those other things - Santa, presents, etc etc, are just fluff. But it is impossible to avoid it, and to not imagine sharing these things with my child too.
As for the actual holiday season (Christmas Day excluded), it can't be over soon enough. While I am keeping my chin up as much as possible, some nights are just really hard. And tonight was one of them.
Holidays can be SO hard for people who are struggling, not just with infertility, but with any of life's challenges. For someone struggling with money problems, it could be the fear of having nothing for your children for Christmas. For someone struggling with the loss of a parent, Mother's or Father's Day would be difficult. For someone who is lonely, Valentine's Day can hurt.
I have always been a person who treasures traditions and celebrations. Watching holiday after holiday pass by, year after year, can feel devastating at times.
I read this blog entry recently. The author, Lisa, describes what each holiday feels like in the world of infertility. I have a lot of experience writing out my own thoughts, and that is helpful. But nothing prepares you to read someone else's words describe your feelings so precisely. Yes, it is dark and depressing, but I have had all these thoughts. I usually try to put on a positive face, but they are there, even though I wish I could say they weren't. Tears fell as I read my experiences of each holiday for the last five years, as told by Lisa.
The year starts off easy enough...
New Years -- This is where we make all those resolutions, or in the case of an infertile, their hopes and dreams and goals for the year ahead. We tell ourselves that this is going to be our year! We are not going to face another new Year's without a child. We are going to do whatever it takes to reach our dreams this year. And we kiss, still crushed from the year prior, but with a renewed hope for the year to come. This is going to be our year -- it has to be.
Valentines Day -- Finally, a holiday that doesn't remind us of children! It's all about love. Only, we are pumped up on drugs, or so exhausted from treatments, that it's hard to enjoy. Not to mention, in the back of our minds, we know all those other couples, sitting around us, eating their dinner, have children they get to go home to. Valentine's cards to help them write out. Little hearts and chocolates to scatter around the house in anticipation of little excited faces.
March Break -- On the heels of Valentines Day comes March break. Children abound, as families pack up to enjoy a fun week together somewhere. But not you. No, you plough forward, head down, trying not to notice.
Easter -- Next comes Easter. The stores are filled with reminders of children. Everywhere you look is a reminder of what you are missing. Easter bunnies, Easter baskets, Easter egg hunts. Pretty spring children's dresses. Excited little faces and happy families are everywhere. You long to be part of an easter egg hunt of your own, but instead, you close your eyes and hope you just make it through.
Mothers Day -- As if Easter wasn't bad enough, Mother's Day is close behind. A slap in the face to infertiles everywhere. You are not a mother and you wonder if you ever will be. You do not get breakfast in bed, a hand drawn card, a hug from that sweet little child telling you they love you. It's a painful reminder of what you will never have, and what everyone around you gets so easily. It's almost too much to bear, as you watch others enjoy what you long for so badly.
Fathers Day -- Of course Father's Day is right behind. Happy children and their dads, out to brunch, playing golf, fishing, enjoying the day together. You think of your husband and what he is missing. You can't help picturing him as a father, knowing how good he would be. You imagine your own children taking his hand and hopping up on his lap, smiling up at him. Their dad. Their hero. And you can't help from thinking how robbed he is, when you see the pain on his face.
Summer Holidays -- One of the best times of year for family fun. Kids are out of school. Everywhere you look are happy families picnicking, going to the park, the beach. And you long to be one of them. The carefree days of summer are everywhere. Long weekends and camping trips. Innocent times and bonding and memories being created that will last a life time. Yet, you still cannot join in the fun.
Weddings -- Of course, what would the summer be without weddings. You watch, as other couples get married, knowing that soon, their dreams will come true, and they will be blessed with families before you. You think back to your wedding, how excited and hopeful you were for the future together. All the family plans you had, the big house, the fun family trips. And it's painful to watch it come true for everyone else but you.
Baby showers -- Invites to baby showers come fast and furious. You can't even bear to open the envelope. You shop for other peoples' children, holding back the lump in your throat, trying not to breathe, and maybe you will get through it.
Birthdays -- Next comes your birthday. But you have nothing to celebrate. It's just a painful reminder that you are another year older, another year has passed without a child. Your chances are decreasing every single day. And you can't bear to blow out your candle, yet again, and make the only wish you have been wishing. Because it still hasn't come true.
Anniversaries -- Your wedding anniversary is upon you, and it's time to celebrate your love. The one thing that keeps you going through all the pain. But unfortunately, it's also an anniversary where you both will mourn another year passing without a child. The family you haven't created.
Back to School -- Back to school has become a season these days. You look around at all the stores, all the little knapsacks, and school supplies. Your nieces and nephews are getting older. Friend's children are growing up before your eyes. Life is moving forward without you. You can't help but feel like it's completely passing you by.
Halloween -- As the autumn leaves fall, families are huddled up carving pumpkins together, making candy apples, playing in the falling leaves. And Halloween rolls around quickly. Parents dress up little angels, princesses, and monsters in the cutest outfits you have ever seen. You dread the day as it grows darker, knowing that soon, happy little children will be knocking on your door, saying trick or treat. And you will barely be able to keep yourself from crying. You think about everything you are missing. You long to be taking your own children out from house to house. And you end the night, a puddle on the floor, sobbing your eyes out, wishing you could hide away forever.
Thanksgiving -- The season of family is officially upon you. Happy families get together to share turkey and rejoice in all that they have to be thankful for. Just the thought of another holiday where you still don't have your own family to share it with, tortures you beyond belief. You have a hard time thinking of anything to be thankful for, let alone, sharing the holiday with family and friends who have everything you want. Everyone has a family except for you, and the pain cuts so deep you don't think you will survive it.
Christmas -- The holiday season is upon you in no time. The pinnacle of holidays is finally here. Christmas is the motherload, the holiday of all holidays. The one you have been dreading all year. For it is the season of children and dreams and families and miracles. For everyone but you. Little stocking hanging from the fireplace, ornaments on the tree, hopes of Santa, snowmen on front lawns, Christmas parades, hot chocolate, cold little toes and noses and happy laughter fills the air. The stores bellow out Christmas music. Commercials celebrate families and children. Movies are filled with the magic of family. Christmas lights and Santa sleighs, and nativity scenes are everywhere. Christmas cards arrive in the mail, all those happy smiling family pictures and updates from friends and families. The magic of the season is everywhere, all around you, suffocating you, choking you to death. The pain has never been so great, so real, and so deep. You envy everyone you see. You can barely venture out your front door. It is the happiest season of all, a season you once loved, a season you wonder if you will ever love again. A season that now pulls you under with such grief that you are sure you will die. But you don't die. You survive. As you brace yourself for the upcoming New Year and the whole new calendar that comes with it.
Let me just say I am really looking forward to Christmas and celebrating the reason for the season, the birth of Jesus Christ. I know all those other things - Santa, presents, etc etc, are just fluff. But it is impossible to avoid it, and to not imagine sharing these things with my child too.
As for the actual holiday season (Christmas Day excluded), it can't be over soon enough. While I am keeping my chin up as much as possible, some nights are just really hard. And tonight was one of them.
Holidays can be SO hard for people who are struggling, not just with infertility, but with any of life's challenges. For someone struggling with money problems, it could be the fear of having nothing for your children for Christmas. For someone struggling with the loss of a parent, Mother's or Father's Day would be difficult. For someone who is lonely, Valentine's Day can hurt.
I have always been a person who treasures traditions and celebrations. Watching holiday after holiday pass by, year after year, can feel devastating at times.
I read this blog entry recently. The author, Lisa, describes what each holiday feels like in the world of infertility. I have a lot of experience writing out my own thoughts, and that is helpful. But nothing prepares you to read someone else's words describe your feelings so precisely. Yes, it is dark and depressing, but I have had all these thoughts. I usually try to put on a positive face, but they are there, even though I wish I could say they weren't. Tears fell as I read my experiences of each holiday for the last five years, as told by Lisa.
The year starts off easy enough...
New Years -- This is where we make all those resolutions, or in the case of an infertile, their hopes and dreams and goals for the year ahead. We tell ourselves that this is going to be our year! We are not going to face another new Year's without a child. We are going to do whatever it takes to reach our dreams this year. And we kiss, still crushed from the year prior, but with a renewed hope for the year to come. This is going to be our year -- it has to be.
Valentines Day -- Finally, a holiday that doesn't remind us of children! It's all about love. Only, we are pumped up on drugs, or so exhausted from treatments, that it's hard to enjoy. Not to mention, in the back of our minds, we know all those other couples, sitting around us, eating their dinner, have children they get to go home to. Valentine's cards to help them write out. Little hearts and chocolates to scatter around the house in anticipation of little excited faces.
March Break -- On the heels of Valentines Day comes March break. Children abound, as families pack up to enjoy a fun week together somewhere. But not you. No, you plough forward, head down, trying not to notice.
Easter -- Next comes Easter. The stores are filled with reminders of children. Everywhere you look is a reminder of what you are missing. Easter bunnies, Easter baskets, Easter egg hunts. Pretty spring children's dresses. Excited little faces and happy families are everywhere. You long to be part of an easter egg hunt of your own, but instead, you close your eyes and hope you just make it through.
Mothers Day -- As if Easter wasn't bad enough, Mother's Day is close behind. A slap in the face to infertiles everywhere. You are not a mother and you wonder if you ever will be. You do not get breakfast in bed, a hand drawn card, a hug from that sweet little child telling you they love you. It's a painful reminder of what you will never have, and what everyone around you gets so easily. It's almost too much to bear, as you watch others enjoy what you long for so badly.
Fathers Day -- Of course Father's Day is right behind. Happy children and their dads, out to brunch, playing golf, fishing, enjoying the day together. You think of your husband and what he is missing. You can't help picturing him as a father, knowing how good he would be. You imagine your own children taking his hand and hopping up on his lap, smiling up at him. Their dad. Their hero. And you can't help from thinking how robbed he is, when you see the pain on his face.
Summer Holidays -- One of the best times of year for family fun. Kids are out of school. Everywhere you look are happy families picnicking, going to the park, the beach. And you long to be one of them. The carefree days of summer are everywhere. Long weekends and camping trips. Innocent times and bonding and memories being created that will last a life time. Yet, you still cannot join in the fun.
Weddings -- Of course, what would the summer be without weddings. You watch, as other couples get married, knowing that soon, their dreams will come true, and they will be blessed with families before you. You think back to your wedding, how excited and hopeful you were for the future together. All the family plans you had, the big house, the fun family trips. And it's painful to watch it come true for everyone else but you.
Baby showers -- Invites to baby showers come fast and furious. You can't even bear to open the envelope. You shop for other peoples' children, holding back the lump in your throat, trying not to breathe, and maybe you will get through it.
Birthdays -- Next comes your birthday. But you have nothing to celebrate. It's just a painful reminder that you are another year older, another year has passed without a child. Your chances are decreasing every single day. And you can't bear to blow out your candle, yet again, and make the only wish you have been wishing. Because it still hasn't come true.
Anniversaries -- Your wedding anniversary is upon you, and it's time to celebrate your love. The one thing that keeps you going through all the pain. But unfortunately, it's also an anniversary where you both will mourn another year passing without a child. The family you haven't created.
Back to School -- Back to school has become a season these days. You look around at all the stores, all the little knapsacks, and school supplies. Your nieces and nephews are getting older. Friend's children are growing up before your eyes. Life is moving forward without you. You can't help but feel like it's completely passing you by.
Halloween -- As the autumn leaves fall, families are huddled up carving pumpkins together, making candy apples, playing in the falling leaves. And Halloween rolls around quickly. Parents dress up little angels, princesses, and monsters in the cutest outfits you have ever seen. You dread the day as it grows darker, knowing that soon, happy little children will be knocking on your door, saying trick or treat. And you will barely be able to keep yourself from crying. You think about everything you are missing. You long to be taking your own children out from house to house. And you end the night, a puddle on the floor, sobbing your eyes out, wishing you could hide away forever.
Thanksgiving -- The season of family is officially upon you. Happy families get together to share turkey and rejoice in all that they have to be thankful for. Just the thought of another holiday where you still don't have your own family to share it with, tortures you beyond belief. You have a hard time thinking of anything to be thankful for, let alone, sharing the holiday with family and friends who have everything you want. Everyone has a family except for you, and the pain cuts so deep you don't think you will survive it.
Christmas -- The holiday season is upon you in no time. The pinnacle of holidays is finally here. Christmas is the motherload, the holiday of all holidays. The one you have been dreading all year. For it is the season of children and dreams and families and miracles. For everyone but you. Little stocking hanging from the fireplace, ornaments on the tree, hopes of Santa, snowmen on front lawns, Christmas parades, hot chocolate, cold little toes and noses and happy laughter fills the air. The stores bellow out Christmas music. Commercials celebrate families and children. Movies are filled with the magic of family. Christmas lights and Santa sleighs, and nativity scenes are everywhere. Christmas cards arrive in the mail, all those happy smiling family pictures and updates from friends and families. The magic of the season is everywhere, all around you, suffocating you, choking you to death. The pain has never been so great, so real, and so deep. You envy everyone you see. You can barely venture out your front door. It is the happiest season of all, a season you once loved, a season you wonder if you will ever love again. A season that now pulls you under with such grief that you are sure you will die. But you don't die. You survive. As you brace yourself for the upcoming New Year and the whole new calendar that comes with it.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Joy in the Journey
The ancient Roman philosopher Horace admonished, “Whatever hour God has blessed you with, take it with grateful hand, nor postpone your joys from year to year, so that in whatever place you have been, you may say that you have lived happily.”
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Last night, I had a long talk with a good friend about trying to live in the here and now. The overwhelming theme I walked away with was 'just survive today'. How do I get through today?
In October, we had a church-wide conference, full of talks by various church members and leaders. I chose not to watch at that time. Why? Not because I didn't want to hear the messages, but because we do not know ahead of time topics that will be addressed. Back in October, I decided I wasn't strong enough to handle listening to a talk on 'parenting' or 'raising a family' or 'motherhood'. So, instead, I ordered all the talks on CD. I figured I could listen to them one at a time, in whatever order I wanted. And if there was a talk that I just wasn't ready to hear, I could save it for another day.
My CD came in the mail yesterday, and this morning I skimmed the titles. I paused on Thomas S. Monson's talk, 'Finding Joy in the Journey'. So similar to my conversation the previous evening, I decided to listen to this talk on the way to work.
Halfway through the talk, President Monson repeated the quote written above 'Whatever hour God has blessed you with, take it with grateful hand, nor postpone your joys from year to year, so that in whatever place you have been, you may say that you have lived happily.'
How many years have I been postponing my joy, waiting to start a family, to finally be 'truly happy'?
Thinking about this time of year specifically, how many Christmases have I spent thinking, "Maybe this will be our last Christmas just the two of us" or "By next Christmas, maybe I'll be a mom, or at least have the promise of being a mom soon"? How many Christmases have I mentally counted the number of children I should have by now, the ages they'd be, the gifts they'd ask for, their faces as they sang Christmas carols or saw the lit tree for the first time.
No matter the happiness and gratitude, there is a cloud over every holiday, as thoughts like these take residence in my mind.
I would love to say I have lived happily, no matter what place I was. I am trying to do that, but some days it is just so hard. I feel that sometimes, for me personally, it is impossible to simply choose to be happy. At one time I felt I could do that, but lately I've struggled.
However, I can always choose to try. To pick myself up, and forge ahead.
I am no different than anyone else dealing with something difficult in their life. Good days, bad days, but forging ahead anyway. There are people who have lost a loved one, a job, a friend, a dream. And we are all pressing on. This is life.
Quoting again from President Monson's talk: In The Music Man, Professor Harold Hill, one of the principal characters in the show, voices a caution that I share with you. Says he,
“You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you’ve collected a lot of empty yesterdays.”
So, here's to today, this season, this Christmas, this New Year. Worry about next year... next year. It's a day-by-day, minute-by-minute decision. And just trying is enough for now.
----------------------------------------------
Last night, I had a long talk with a good friend about trying to live in the here and now. The overwhelming theme I walked away with was 'just survive today'. How do I get through today?
In October, we had a church-wide conference, full of talks by various church members and leaders. I chose not to watch at that time. Why? Not because I didn't want to hear the messages, but because we do not know ahead of time topics that will be addressed. Back in October, I decided I wasn't strong enough to handle listening to a talk on 'parenting' or 'raising a family' or 'motherhood'. So, instead, I ordered all the talks on CD. I figured I could listen to them one at a time, in whatever order I wanted. And if there was a talk that I just wasn't ready to hear, I could save it for another day.
My CD came in the mail yesterday, and this morning I skimmed the titles. I paused on Thomas S. Monson's talk, 'Finding Joy in the Journey'. So similar to my conversation the previous evening, I decided to listen to this talk on the way to work.
Halfway through the talk, President Monson repeated the quote written above 'Whatever hour God has blessed you with, take it with grateful hand, nor postpone your joys from year to year, so that in whatever place you have been, you may say that you have lived happily.'
How many years have I been postponing my joy, waiting to start a family, to finally be 'truly happy'?
Thinking about this time of year specifically, how many Christmases have I spent thinking, "Maybe this will be our last Christmas just the two of us" or "By next Christmas, maybe I'll be a mom, or at least have the promise of being a mom soon"? How many Christmases have I mentally counted the number of children I should have by now, the ages they'd be, the gifts they'd ask for, their faces as they sang Christmas carols or saw the lit tree for the first time.
No matter the happiness and gratitude, there is a cloud over every holiday, as thoughts like these take residence in my mind.
I would love to say I have lived happily, no matter what place I was. I am trying to do that, but some days it is just so hard. I feel that sometimes, for me personally, it is impossible to simply choose to be happy. At one time I felt I could do that, but lately I've struggled.
However, I can always choose to try. To pick myself up, and forge ahead.
I am no different than anyone else dealing with something difficult in their life. Good days, bad days, but forging ahead anyway. There are people who have lost a loved one, a job, a friend, a dream. And we are all pressing on. This is life.
Quoting again from President Monson's talk: In The Music Man, Professor Harold Hill, one of the principal characters in the show, voices a caution that I share with you. Says he,
“You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you’ve collected a lot of empty yesterdays.”
So, here's to today, this season, this Christmas, this New Year. Worry about next year... next year. It's a day-by-day, minute-by-minute decision. And just trying is enough for now.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Dead Cat Bouncing
This week, I learned about a term used in the investment world known as the 'dead cat bounce'. Now, the visual is pretty harsh (I don't like thinking about dead cats bouncing... or dead cats at all actually...), but the term describes a falling stock market that rapidly rebounds, only to drop again.
Well, this week I felt like I had my own dead cat bounce. Several weeks ago, I had a very spiritual experience that brought me closer to God, and gave me a bit of peace for the first time in a while. Compared to the darkness that loomed over me for the last several months, I was on the rise.
Then, a sequence of events happened at work. Because of circumstances beyond anyone's control, I saw my career progress screeching to a halt for the unforeseeable future. Between drops in the market and losing a staff member permanently, I no longer have the speedy timeline I was hoping for. No big deal, except that the entire financial aspect of my 2009 Plan was dependant on the immediate progress of my career.
I felt like I was just starting to pull myself out of a hole, when a big hand came down and flicked me back in.
Mostly, I felt silly for believing that this was really it, that things were actually going to change. Now, I know change will come someday, but I hate not knowing when. I'm a planner... so much so that I chose it for a career. Why am I so great at planning everyone else's success but my own?
So many times, so many plans, so many years, and I'm still waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. So many "if this, than finally that", praying for the if's and never seeing the that's. I wonder if I read all my blog entries over the last few years, how many 'plans' I wrote about that never worked out. Depressing.
And that's why I don't read old entries!
Anyway, on the day when my plans came crashing down (a bit dramatic, I know), I drove myself home from work in tears. Because of my recent experience gaining comfort through spiritual music, I threw in my Jenny Phillips CD.
A first, I resented every word she sang. I didn't want to hear it! But I kept listening and soon a song I had never heard before began to play...
Like a ship that's worn, with a sail so torn,
drifting out to sea,
the wind is blowing in, and you're tossed again.
Is it time to leap behind the ship,
and walk to Him?
The anchor's gone, you're moving on
further from His arms.
Go to Him. Face the wind.
If you trust enough, His mighty love
will get you through.
Do you believe that the seas
will hold your feet if you go?
Close your eyes, feel Him in sight,
walk to what you know is true.
And He will not fail you.
Give up your fear. Let go of doubt.
Lay down your load. Let it go.
As I listened to the words, I imagined the Apostle Peter and the incredible faith he had as he stepped off that boat onto the water, and walked toward Jesus.
Right now, I don't have the faith to step off that boat. I am still clinging to the edge: scared, doubtful and tossed around. But I am working on it. Someday, I hope I can let go. I can imagine how wonderful that would feel.
In the meantime, maybe 'dead cat bounce' is not the best way to describe this week. Maybe I just took a tumble and had a rough landing. If that is the case than someday, in true cat-like form, I'll have to land on my feet. Right?
And the journey continues...
----------------------------------
Well, this week I felt like I had my own dead cat bounce. Several weeks ago, I had a very spiritual experience that brought me closer to God, and gave me a bit of peace for the first time in a while. Compared to the darkness that loomed over me for the last several months, I was on the rise.
Then, a sequence of events happened at work. Because of circumstances beyond anyone's control, I saw my career progress screeching to a halt for the unforeseeable future. Between drops in the market and losing a staff member permanently, I no longer have the speedy timeline I was hoping for. No big deal, except that the entire financial aspect of my 2009 Plan was dependant on the immediate progress of my career.
I felt like I was just starting to pull myself out of a hole, when a big hand came down and flicked me back in.
Mostly, I felt silly for believing that this was really it, that things were actually going to change. Now, I know change will come someday, but I hate not knowing when. I'm a planner... so much so that I chose it for a career. Why am I so great at planning everyone else's success but my own?
So many times, so many plans, so many years, and I'm still waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. So many "if this, than finally that", praying for the if's and never seeing the that's. I wonder if I read all my blog entries over the last few years, how many 'plans' I wrote about that never worked out. Depressing.
And that's why I don't read old entries!
Anyway, on the day when my plans came crashing down (a bit dramatic, I know), I drove myself home from work in tears. Because of my recent experience gaining comfort through spiritual music, I threw in my Jenny Phillips CD.
A first, I resented every word she sang. I didn't want to hear it! But I kept listening and soon a song I had never heard before began to play...
Like a ship that's worn, with a sail so torn,
drifting out to sea,
the wind is blowing in, and you're tossed again.
Is it time to leap behind the ship,
and walk to Him?
The anchor's gone, you're moving on
further from His arms.
Go to Him. Face the wind.
If you trust enough, His mighty love
will get you through.
Do you believe that the seas
will hold your feet if you go?
Close your eyes, feel Him in sight,
walk to what you know is true.
And He will not fail you.
Give up your fear. Let go of doubt.
Lay down your load. Let it go.
As I listened to the words, I imagined the Apostle Peter and the incredible faith he had as he stepped off that boat onto the water, and walked toward Jesus.
Right now, I don't have the faith to step off that boat. I am still clinging to the edge: scared, doubtful and tossed around. But I am working on it. Someday, I hope I can let go. I can imagine how wonderful that would feel.
In the meantime, maybe 'dead cat bounce' is not the best way to describe this week. Maybe I just took a tumble and had a rough landing. If that is the case than someday, in true cat-like form, I'll have to land on my feet. Right?
And the journey continues...
----------------------------------
Life and its troubles can do one of two things.
It can make you better or bitter.
I have experienced both,
and better is better.
Friday, November 7, 2008
The End
It's always okay in the end.
So if it's not okay, than it's not the end.
This quote was in our recent youth musical and
it's been on my mind ever since.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
My Life in 2009
One strong characteristic of mine is punctuality. I am usually on-time for everything: a party, a meeting, you name it. When I am late (or when I think I might be) I stress a bit. It makes me uncomfortable.
My cycles have always been the same way. Regardless of the spotting issue over the last 5 years, I have always been regular, on-time.
This month was different. Although I got major cramps on 'Day 1', my cycle had not started. The next day, I was so nauseous I could barely move. I tried Sprite, canned pears, hard candy, saltine crackers, all the usual stuff, and nothing helped. I was sick all morning. This was the first time in years I dared think I might be pregnant. The nausea faded that evening. I must have had a touch of the stomach flu. Even so, the next day (should be 'Day 3'), still no period. I took a pregnancy test and it was negative. That night, I finally started.
During this confusing chain of events, there was a day or so when I actually thought I might be pregnant. While I was 99% excited (albeit afraid to hope), about 1% felt unprepared. Now I know the mantra: 'You are never fully ready to become a parent'. I have heard that a million times and I believe it, I promise. But the tiny, minuscule, not-viewable-with-the-naked-eye silver lining on the dark cloud of infertility is that we get more time than most to prepare for the job of parenthood. I mean, infertility is all about waiting: waiting for the next cycle, waiting for the next treatment, waiting to save money for the next treatment, waiting to be chosen by a birth-mom, waiting for paperwork to be processed, waiting for test results, waiting for answers, waiting for blessings, just waiting.
While you wait, you might as well become the best parent-to-be you can, right?
Over the past several weeks, I have been reviewing my life and what it will take to achieve that goal of parenthood. I am in no financial position to seek adoption or fertility treatments right now. At this point, it seems those options will not be available until at least 2010. Therefore, my life in 2009 will consist of more waiting. So, how do I pass the time while I wait? There are several areas I need to work on:
Financial: Seeing that my finances are the reason for the delay, there is a lot to do in this department.
In the first four years of our marriage, Ryan and I racked up some consumer debt. Some of it is from unexpected and necessary expenses, some is a result of irresponsible purchases. Once I started working in financial planning, our habits changed. Unfortunately, rectifying the situation has been slow going. I am hoping in 2009, as I get my career going, our progress will speed up. I want to be consumer debt-free (or at least have my debt tamed) by the end of 2009. Then I can pursue adoption or fertility treatments with a clear conscience because I am bringing a child into a financially secure and responsible household.
My cycles have always been the same way. Regardless of the spotting issue over the last 5 years, I have always been regular, on-time.
This month was different. Although I got major cramps on 'Day 1', my cycle had not started. The next day, I was so nauseous I could barely move. I tried Sprite, canned pears, hard candy, saltine crackers, all the usual stuff, and nothing helped. I was sick all morning. This was the first time in years I dared think I might be pregnant. The nausea faded that evening. I must have had a touch of the stomach flu. Even so, the next day (should be 'Day 3'), still no period. I took a pregnancy test and it was negative. That night, I finally started.
During this confusing chain of events, there was a day or so when I actually thought I might be pregnant. While I was 99% excited (albeit afraid to hope), about 1% felt unprepared. Now I know the mantra: 'You are never fully ready to become a parent'. I have heard that a million times and I believe it, I promise. But the tiny, minuscule, not-viewable-with-the-naked-eye silver lining on the dark cloud of infertility is that we get more time than most to prepare for the job of parenthood. I mean, infertility is all about waiting: waiting for the next cycle, waiting for the next treatment, waiting to save money for the next treatment, waiting to be chosen by a birth-mom, waiting for paperwork to be processed, waiting for test results, waiting for answers, waiting for blessings, just waiting.
While you wait, you might as well become the best parent-to-be you can, right?
Over the past several weeks, I have been reviewing my life and what it will take to achieve that goal of parenthood. I am in no financial position to seek adoption or fertility treatments right now. At this point, it seems those options will not be available until at least 2010. Therefore, my life in 2009 will consist of more waiting. So, how do I pass the time while I wait? There are several areas I need to work on:
Financial: Seeing that my finances are the reason for the delay, there is a lot to do in this department.
In the first four years of our marriage, Ryan and I racked up some consumer debt. Some of it is from unexpected and necessary expenses, some is a result of irresponsible purchases. Once I started working in financial planning, our habits changed. Unfortunately, rectifying the situation has been slow going. I am hoping in 2009, as I get my career going, our progress will speed up. I want to be consumer debt-free (or at least have my debt tamed) by the end of 2009. Then I can pursue adoption or fertility treatments with a clear conscience because I am bringing a child into a financially secure and responsible household.
Spiritual: I need to work out my relationship with God. I wrote a bit about it in Un-stuff that anger. It is the most important thing I need to work on.
Mental: I want to grow my career and become the best financial planner I can be. Although I enjoy what I do, I am often distracted at work by my feelings toward my infertility. Over the last few months especially, I have been struggling to keep the two separate and my work has begun to be affected by my sadness. I'd like that to stop, if possible.
I also am learning new and useful things, all those things that will help me be a great mom. How to grocery shop on a budget, cleaning tricks, and perfecting the art of chocolate chip cookie baking.
Emotional: I plan to continue with therapy as long as I find it helpful. I have recognized that I am dealing with some depression, and I am trying to work through that. I want to 'take care of myself' more by giving myself a break. If I would rather be alone on a Saturday night than go out with friends, that's okay. I'm not going to force myself to go to 'child events' if I am struggling that day. And I will not be attending church on Mother's Day (unless I go with my mom). After five years of torturous experiences dealing with that day, I refuse to do that to myself anymore.
Physical: I could be healthier. I could be stronger. In a couple years, I may be asking my body to do extrordinary things. I could prepare now to make that time in the future easier on myself, should I become pregnant with a child (or children).
So, this would be my life in 2009. It isn't what I planned or wanted, but I hope I can learn to be happy in this life. I hope I end the year a better person than when it began. It will be a long, tough year but, as long as I am working towards my goal, I should be able to make it.
Over the next year or so, I would love for one day to go by that I don't think, dream, or cry over my childless life. I'm not optimistic that will happen. Even so, I will get through it anyway. And at least now I have a plan, which is comforting for someone who loves to plan.
It should be an interesting year!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
You Don't Have to Win, You Just Have to Finish
I had a moment of inspiration today, and I wanted to make a note of what I learned before it gets lost in the minutia of my life.
A speaker in church today told a story about an "Iron Man" race he had once watched. An Iron Man race consists of a swim (2.5 miles), a bike ride (112 miles) and a marathon run at the end (over 26 miles). It is a strong test of endurance.
He remembers watching a certain woman compete. She had finished her swim and bike ride. As she was coming up on the end of her run, about 100 yards from the finish line, her body gave out and she collapsed. Physically, she just couldn't do it any more. Even so, she wanted to finish the race.
This woman dragged herself the last 100 yards towards the finish line. She literally used her elbows and forearms to pull her limp body along. Her desire to finish the race was an inspiration to everyone. I didn't ask, but I bet the man telling the story can't remember the person who won the race that year, but I am sure he will never forget the woman who didn't give up.
In Hebrews 12:1 it reads:
Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.
As I listened to the speaker today, I felt tears come to my eyes. Sometimes, I feel like I am in a race that will never end. I want this infertility marathon to be over! I want to sit down and rest my soul, and catch my breath!
But God has other plans and my job is to finish this race. I don't have to win; I just have to finish.
And if I have to drag this body across the finish line, that's what I'm willing to do.
A speaker in church today told a story about an "Iron Man" race he had once watched. An Iron Man race consists of a swim (2.5 miles), a bike ride (112 miles) and a marathon run at the end (over 26 miles). It is a strong test of endurance.
He remembers watching a certain woman compete. She had finished her swim and bike ride. As she was coming up on the end of her run, about 100 yards from the finish line, her body gave out and she collapsed. Physically, she just couldn't do it any more. Even so, she wanted to finish the race.
This woman dragged herself the last 100 yards towards the finish line. She literally used her elbows and forearms to pull her limp body along. Her desire to finish the race was an inspiration to everyone. I didn't ask, but I bet the man telling the story can't remember the person who won the race that year, but I am sure he will never forget the woman who didn't give up.
In Hebrews 12:1 it reads:
Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.
As I listened to the speaker today, I felt tears come to my eyes. Sometimes, I feel like I am in a race that will never end. I want this infertility marathon to be over! I want to sit down and rest my soul, and catch my breath!
But God has other plans and my job is to finish this race. I don't have to win; I just have to finish.
And if I have to drag this body across the finish line, that's what I'm willing to do.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
It's a Choice, People!
Can you choose to be positive? I think so.
I am going through the hardest trial of my life, thus far. I know that there are so many people out there (some I know personally) who's trails far outweigh my own, but for me this has been hard. It has been long and intense and, although I know that I will overcome it eventually, sometimes it feels it is a battle that will never be won.
There are a lot of days that I want to roll over in bed, pull the sheets over my head, and disappear for a while. Many times, I'll just sit and stare into space for a while, absent of any thoughts or feelings. Sometimes, I have to force myself to do things that I should enjoy.
Why do I share this? I'm asking myself that same question at this moment. Confessing these feelings is embarrassing. It makes me feel selfish, especially considering what some people struggle with everyday: illness and disease, the death of a loved one, the loss of a child, etc.
Maybe someday I'll look back on this and feel so silly, roll my eyes, and tell myself to get over it. Or maybe not.
Can you choose to be positive? I think so. But it's not easy...
Most days, I consciously make that choice hour by hour. On bad days, minute by minute.
Sometimes, it is literally an excruciating choice to make. Hiding under the covers would be so much easier. I wouldn't have to venture out into the world, pulling myself away from my selfishness, and think of others. Showing happiness for friends and family who appear to have everything they want, sometimes celebrating the very thing I desire. Feeling empathy for people who have their own struggles, forcing myself not to compare their struggles to mine, a comparison which usually results in frustration or guilt, depending on the situation. Either way, it never ends well.
A motto I have learned to live by: "Fake it until you make it". I feel ashamed to admit it, but occasionally I fake this positive facade. But I think that's okay; it usually only takes a little while before I become more genuine. And this way, I don't hurt anyone's feelings or bring anyone down. Despite what they say, misery doesn't always love company! (And, despite what Ryan says, sometimes I can be a very convincing actress...)
And positive thinking is a choice.
So every day, I'll make that choice. When I have a tough day, I'll wake up the next morning and make it again. When someone unintentionally says something discouraging, I'll encourage myself. And, when all else fails, I'll fake it.
And those times I just can't do it? I'll get through: whether it is taking a long shower, shedding tears in the car, shutting the door to my office, or purging those selfish feelings on here, I'll conquer it somehow. That's what everyone else is doing... fighting their demons one at a time. For we all will have them; no one is exempt!
Can you choose to be positive? What other choice is there...
---------------------------------------------
Side note: I just reread this journal entry and, wow, I was brutally honest. I reconsidered posting it, but then stopped myself. If I truly want to record this experience, I have to do it 100%, warts and all. Otherwise, what was the point?
I am going through the hardest trial of my life, thus far. I know that there are so many people out there (some I know personally) who's trails far outweigh my own, but for me this has been hard. It has been long and intense and, although I know that I will overcome it eventually, sometimes it feels it is a battle that will never be won.
There are a lot of days that I want to roll over in bed, pull the sheets over my head, and disappear for a while. Many times, I'll just sit and stare into space for a while, absent of any thoughts or feelings. Sometimes, I have to force myself to do things that I should enjoy.
Why do I share this? I'm asking myself that same question at this moment. Confessing these feelings is embarrassing. It makes me feel selfish, especially considering what some people struggle with everyday: illness and disease, the death of a loved one, the loss of a child, etc.
Maybe someday I'll look back on this and feel so silly, roll my eyes, and tell myself to get over it. Or maybe not.
Can you choose to be positive? I think so. But it's not easy...
Most days, I consciously make that choice hour by hour. On bad days, minute by minute.
Sometimes, it is literally an excruciating choice to make. Hiding under the covers would be so much easier. I wouldn't have to venture out into the world, pulling myself away from my selfishness, and think of others. Showing happiness for friends and family who appear to have everything they want, sometimes celebrating the very thing I desire. Feeling empathy for people who have their own struggles, forcing myself not to compare their struggles to mine, a comparison which usually results in frustration or guilt, depending on the situation. Either way, it never ends well.
A motto I have learned to live by: "Fake it until you make it". I feel ashamed to admit it, but occasionally I fake this positive facade. But I think that's okay; it usually only takes a little while before I become more genuine. And this way, I don't hurt anyone's feelings or bring anyone down. Despite what they say, misery doesn't always love company! (And, despite what Ryan says, sometimes I can be a very convincing actress...)
And positive thinking is a choice.
So every day, I'll make that choice. When I have a tough day, I'll wake up the next morning and make it again. When someone unintentionally says something discouraging, I'll encourage myself. And, when all else fails, I'll fake it.
And those times I just can't do it? I'll get through: whether it is taking a long shower, shedding tears in the car, shutting the door to my office, or purging those selfish feelings on here, I'll conquer it somehow. That's what everyone else is doing... fighting their demons one at a time. For we all will have them; no one is exempt!
Can you choose to be positive? What other choice is there...
---------------------------------------------
Side note: I just reread this journal entry and, wow, I was brutally honest. I reconsidered posting it, but then stopped myself. If I truly want to record this experience, I have to do it 100%, warts and all. Otherwise, what was the point?
Friday, July 11, 2008
12 Step Program
On Sunday, I taught a lesson to the teenage girls at church. When I opened the manual to see that week's lesson topic, I had to laugh. It was "Overcoming Opposition".
"And the teacher becomes the student..."
The lesson listed 12 things that can help you work through trials. They were:
1. Repentance: Don't carry sins
2. Prayer: Get close to God
3. Service: Loose yourself in helping others
4. Work: Improve yourself
5. Health: Take care of your body
6. Reading: Scriptures and other positive materials
7. Blessings: Ask for them
8. Fasting: Clear the mind and strengthen the spirit
9. Friends: Lean on them
10. Music: Brings about peace
11. Endurance: Remind yourself of past victories
12. Goals: Set them and accomplish them
The lesson suggested if you are experiencing a trial, to concentrate on two or three of the ideas. Sometimes, it feels like all I am doing is #11, but that's okay. It's progress.
"And the teacher becomes the student..."
The lesson listed 12 things that can help you work through trials. They were:
1. Repentance: Don't carry sins
2. Prayer: Get close to God
3. Service: Loose yourself in helping others
4. Work: Improve yourself
5. Health: Take care of your body
6. Reading: Scriptures and other positive materials
7. Blessings: Ask for them
8. Fasting: Clear the mind and strengthen the spirit
9. Friends: Lean on them
10. Music: Brings about peace
11. Endurance: Remind yourself of past victories
12. Goals: Set them and accomplish them
The lesson suggested if you are experiencing a trial, to concentrate on two or three of the ideas. Sometimes, it feels like all I am doing is #11, but that's okay. It's progress.
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