Better

I thought I should share that I am better. I am not so down and pouty like I was yesterday, so that's good. I am going to admit to you, though, that I still am not excited. I was talking with Robby about this last night and decided that although I firmly believe God is going to give us a child, this idea of a child is part of a far off future. I have no problem with saying that someday, God will grant us this; it's much more difficult to think that this time could actually be the time. And so, to get excited and worked up about it is difficult for me right now. I feel as if it's like buying a lottery ticket and getting truly excited about winning even though the chances are slim. I'm not saying these ideas are good. In fact, I'm recognizing quite the opposite. I don't want to have a "far off future" trust in God; I want to have a here and now trust in God. That is my prayer today.

Feeling down

This morning was our IUI, and things went smoothly. The doctor said everything looked good, and the procedure wasn't as uncomfortable as it was the last time. The strange thing is while I was happy at the doctor's office that things went well, as soon as we were in the car my excitement faded. After other appointments, Robby and I usually will talk about our future baby or dream about it becoming a reality, but today felt different, and I'm not sure why. The only thing I want to do is hide out right now.

Usually when I write a downer blog post, I write it after I've already come out of the depression. That's not the case today. However, knowing that God has been with us every step of the way regarding this (and everything), I can rest assured that He's with me and He knows the deepest corners of my heart that even I am unaware of. I find comfort in that today.

IUI #3

I can hardly believe the end of August is nearly here. It seems our little break from treatments went by so quickly, but I feel ready to begin it all again. I've already done a cycle of Clomid (the medication that stimulates follicle growth) and Ovidrel (the one that helps in ovulation). Tomorrow we have our third IUI scheduled, and I'm excited about it! My appointment went well yesterday: the doctor said I have three good follicles that look like they have matured well, and my uterine lining looked very good. (Before you get your hopes up too high, know that I've heard this all before!) So, from a health perspective, things look great! Keep us in your prayers tomorrow. It's always a pretty emotional day--and week--for us, plus the procedure itself isn't something I really love. Of course, the hope that this could be it for us makes us able to deal with about anything!

My Tree

When Robby and I moved into our home over a year and a half ago, we couldn't wait to get started on creating a lovely backyard. Robby has truly done that: he has planted trees, vines, bushes, and flowers; built a pergola, a pathway, and a planter; and overall masterfully created a little paradise for us. Nearly every morning, I spend some time outside drinking coffee, praying, or reading. This past week, I was reminded of something, and I cannot believe I had forgotten it. You'll see why it's almost unthinkable that this slipped my mind.

About a year ago, Robby had just planted our trees in our yard. It's not the wisest decision to plant trees in our summer because it is so hot here, but we are impatient, and we wanted trees. We left for a week vacation, and when we came back, our corner elm tree was dead. Every leaf was brown, the branches could snap right off, life seemed non-existent. We were both sad about this, not only because trees aren't cheap, but also because we loved that tree.

During this time, I was just beginning to deal with the difficulty we were having getting pregnant. We had recently celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary, and it was on that trip that two difficult things happened: I had my first bad case with cysts, and I heard from my ob-gyn that there wasn't any more she could do to help me get pregnant. I was pretty devastated that summer.

One morning, I was sitting outside reading my Bible and doing a little prayer-walking around the yard. I walked to that dead elm tree and started praying for it. (I know...a little crazy.) And then I started praying for me. I was so heartbroken about things not working out, and I felt sort of like that tree--dead, purposeless, withered. I prayed for healing for that tree, and I prayed for healing for me. I asked God to heal that tree to remind me of his grace for me in my life.

I continued praying for that tree throughout that summer and fall. I suppose once the school year began and things got busy, I forgot about it. The tree had begun to show signs of life, but it was still in a sad state.

Last weekend, I was outside again in the morning, and I remembered that prayer. I should probably say the Holy Spirit reminded me, because it came back so clearly. How could I have forgotten?? That tree--which was dead last summer--is now the biggest and most beautiful tree we have in our yard. It is double the size of the other elms, probably three times the size of the other trees, without a trace of death in it. It is gorgeous.

God answered my prayer, and He is answering my prayer still. He is the God of this grand universe, the God who holds all things together, but He is also the God who comes to us when we are alone in our backyard and magnificently reveals He is with us.

On a lighter note, I told Robby this recently, and he looked around our yard (many of our plants and trees are suffering from the heat and poor soil) and asked why I didn't pray for everything. I told him God had to let some of the other things die so I could more clearly see his hand.

Naptime

This week has been a bit rough for me. As I shared, it's my first real week off, the beginning of my new phase of life in a sense, and it hit right after about six weeks straight of running around, vacationing, church things, projects, etc. It began somewhat unfortunately as I had a cold, a UTI, the 24-hour flu (the achey one), and a yeast infection nearly back to back the first few days. All that to say, my defenses--both physically and emotionally--were down.

Kelly keeps a blog, and a couple of days ago, she wrote about her daughter when it's nearly her naptime. Kelly's daughter is an incredibly joyful baby. I spent four days straight with them and hardly saw her cry, and even if she was upset, there were never major tantrums. However, she does show that she is tired and wants her nap in one way: everything becomes, as Kelly says it, "heartbreak." Little things that would just roll right over her at any other time, such as bumping her head or Kelly walking away, become a reason for major tears.

I hate to say it, but when I'm tired, drained, a little on the sick side, I am like that little girl. (How sad! A one year old!) And then throw in the fact that I find a lot of my identity in what I do and accomplish, I'm bound to have a bad week once things slow down and the way my life has looked for years completely changes.

I'm not saying that I can't be truly sad about my infertility. I can, and I am. But what I've noticed is comments, situations, issues that I can usually handle--in light of God's promises and hand in my life--become a way bigger deal to me at certain times. Noticing this truth doesn't necessary fix what I feel, but it is good for me to acknowledge the times when I'm down and deal with it! It may mean I need to spend more time in prayer or reading my Bible; it may mean I go for a walk; or sometimes it just may mean I need a nap.

Time to deal

This summer has been a busy one for us. I suppose our summers are always busy, but I think this one takes the cake. I realized that from June 5 to July 31st, I was out of town half of those days. Besides making me tired, this has also made it very easy to put out of my mind any subjects I don't want to deal with. Guess what's first on that list?

So, the busy-ness is over, and there is now lots of time. The little things that came up over the summer are now coming to the surface: dealing with the painful cysts (again), more friends having babies, people talking about adoption and foster care. It seems just when I think I've "conquered" (I use that term very loosely) an issue or fear, it comes up in a new way, and God has to teach and heal me all over again.

Funny. As I wrote that last line, I could feel God say to me, "Exactly." I suppose my view of "conquering" is quite different from God's. He's not okay with me getting by; He's not okay with me stuffing things away; He's definitely not okay with me being so busy I don't have to deal with anything. He wants to teach and heal me...again and again and again.

Here we go again, then.