I've run out of clever titles for writing that CD1 arrived again. Oh well. The only thing my body seems able to do well is end each cycle predictably, like clockwork. 12 or 13 days post-peak, then AF. Done.
Rebecca wrote beautifully about tears yesterday, and CD1 makes me wonder: how many tears could I possible have left? Haven't I used all of them by now? My tear reservoir must be bigger than the Pacific Ocean!! Can I donate tears to a drought??
My tears don't seem to notice that we've been here before. CD1 is far from a new thing. I could tell yesterday it was coming from the aches and twinges that usually precede it.
But then again, every CD1 is different because it's grieving a different lack, a different absence, a different child that might have been. This time it's grieving that we won't have a child due around Christmas (that has always seemed so perfect), we won't have "news" to tell my parents at Easter...and speaking of that, looks like my next "fertile" time is while my parents are visiting, staying in the guest room next to our bedroom...lovely timing.
It's grieving not being able to celebrate new life in my womb while everything is coming to life outdoors. And so on.
Time to get it in gear: I have to schedule a blood draw for day 3 and then an ultrasound series for day 11 until ovulation. I guess a silver lining (grasping for anything here...) is that maybe we'll have some new, helpful information before this next cycle is over.
It is really hard to stay hopeful!!! I'm just so used to disappointment. Sometimes I daydream about how I would feel if I ever actually had a positive pregnancy test, and it just seems so surreal, like something that happens to other people.
Sorry for a downer of a post. On CD1, I set my expectations low: wake up, shower, get dressed, go to work, don't snap at Mr. M, don't cry at work, try to get something down but be gentle to yourself. There are many, many tears "inside" during work hours. Lots of grieving. If no one else sees, Jesus does.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
April adopt-a-blogger: thank you!
I am so blessed, happy and grateful to be this month's "adopted" blogger per Amy/Amanda/the Holy Spirit. Seriously, I couldn't help but smiling all day thinking about all the prayers that will be coming to us this month. I feel especially spoiled because "my" month has not only Easter in it, but also St. Gianna's feast day and the canonization of John Paul II & John XXIII! That's one awesome month!
Amy asked me to write up a "who are you" kind of post, so this is it.
You can read in more detail our infertility journey here, but the cliff notes version is: we got married in May 2011, started trying to have a baby pretty much right away, and almost three years later still have never conceived. We're not dealing with male-factor infertility, and I haven't received a diagnosis, so we're squarely in the "unexplained" category of infertility. We're still investigating root causes and while it feels weird to hope that something's wrong with me, I do hope my doctor finds something that explains why we're fertility-challenged, preferably something fixable! (Not that it's ever that easy.)
We've also discerned that now is not the right time to pursue adoption because my husband is finishing his dissertation and our current apartment has no windows in the bedrooms (not fire-safe). This conclusion took a lot of wrestling, but I'm at peace with it currently. Our hearts are definitely open to adopting though once the dissertation is done and we move wherever my husband gets a job. (At least that's the plan - we all know how certain those are! =))
It's been...tough, to say the least. Infertility was not on my radar at all when we got married (I guess it isn't for most people) and it was a rude awakening to find out that the path to parenthood might be more arduous for us than for many of our peers. Even now, the fact that we're still childless seems a lot of days like a bad dream I just can't wake up from. This has definitely been a journey of faith: prayer is more real to me now, suffering is more real, my absolute dependence on God is crystal-clear. Pretty much every day I have to ask God's help to battle against jealousy, anger, despair, and resentment. That's some serious spiritual bootcamp.
Finding Catholic infertility blogs was nothing less than a godsend for me. To know that there are other women out there who get what I'm going through, and being able to encourage each other in this trial, has been such a blessing. We only know two couples IRL who struggle with infertility (as in, we didn't meet them through the Internet) and one lives in a different state, so this would all feel so much lonelier if it wasn't for the sisters-in-Christ I've met through my blog. I wish we all lived in one happy little town!!
Remember that button the lady in the Truman Show wears? "How's it going to end?" I wonder that every day. Will I be a mother eventually? Will this ache in my heart go away? Will it all become just a bad dream? I guess the more important question is: Will I become a saint through it all? Again and again God gently reminds me: "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world but forfeit his soul?" Or as my husband reminds me: a child is good and wonderful and so-desired, but a child is still not God. Every day is a challenge to offer my desire for motherhood up to God, knowing that it's safe with Him, and seek Him first.
If I could be so bold, I have a few specific prayer requests for April:
**for the gift of a child (to be open and honest, my cycle is nearing the end and I'm in that limbo stage of hoping AF doesn't arrive and doubting that I'll ever be pregnant)
**if AF comes as usual, for the tests I'll undergo in April (day 3 labs + ultrasound ovulation series), that they shed light on my body's issues
**for our marriage to stay strong and grow despite the challenges in our lives
**most of all, that I would grow in faith, hope, and love, and that I would accept with gratitude the life God has given me (that's been tough lately)
Thank you, thank you, thank you in advance for your prayers!
Amy asked me to write up a "who are you" kind of post, so this is it.
You can read in more detail our infertility journey here, but the cliff notes version is: we got married in May 2011, started trying to have a baby pretty much right away, and almost three years later still have never conceived. We're not dealing with male-factor infertility, and I haven't received a diagnosis, so we're squarely in the "unexplained" category of infertility. We're still investigating root causes and while it feels weird to hope that something's wrong with me, I do hope my doctor finds something that explains why we're fertility-challenged, preferably something fixable! (Not that it's ever that easy.)
We've also discerned that now is not the right time to pursue adoption because my husband is finishing his dissertation and our current apartment has no windows in the bedrooms (not fire-safe). This conclusion took a lot of wrestling, but I'm at peace with it currently. Our hearts are definitely open to adopting though once the dissertation is done and we move wherever my husband gets a job. (At least that's the plan - we all know how certain those are! =))
It's been...tough, to say the least. Infertility was not on my radar at all when we got married (I guess it isn't for most people) and it was a rude awakening to find out that the path to parenthood might be more arduous for us than for many of our peers. Even now, the fact that we're still childless seems a lot of days like a bad dream I just can't wake up from. This has definitely been a journey of faith: prayer is more real to me now, suffering is more real, my absolute dependence on God is crystal-clear. Pretty much every day I have to ask God's help to battle against jealousy, anger, despair, and resentment. That's some serious spiritual bootcamp.
Finding Catholic infertility blogs was nothing less than a godsend for me. To know that there are other women out there who get what I'm going through, and being able to encourage each other in this trial, has been such a blessing. We only know two couples IRL who struggle with infertility (as in, we didn't meet them through the Internet) and one lives in a different state, so this would all feel so much lonelier if it wasn't for the sisters-in-Christ I've met through my blog. I wish we all lived in one happy little town!!
Remember that button the lady in the Truman Show wears? "How's it going to end?" I wonder that every day. Will I be a mother eventually? Will this ache in my heart go away? Will it all become just a bad dream? I guess the more important question is: Will I become a saint through it all? Again and again God gently reminds me: "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world but forfeit his soul?" Or as my husband reminds me: a child is good and wonderful and so-desired, but a child is still not God. Every day is a challenge to offer my desire for motherhood up to God, knowing that it's safe with Him, and seek Him first.
If I could be so bold, I have a few specific prayer requests for April:
**for the gift of a child (to be open and honest, my cycle is nearing the end and I'm in that limbo stage of hoping AF doesn't arrive and doubting that I'll ever be pregnant)
**if AF comes as usual, for the tests I'll undergo in April (day 3 labs + ultrasound ovulation series), that they shed light on my body's issues
**for our marriage to stay strong and grow despite the challenges in our lives
**most of all, that I would grow in faith, hope, and love, and that I would accept with gratitude the life God has given me (that's been tough lately)
Thank you, thank you, thank you in advance for your prayers!
Monday, March 31, 2014
hubby happies
Mr. M decided to write his own Little Happies today!
- Lego shelfie on my Gmail
- What does the Fox Say?
- Getting my back cracked by a PT and every other patient saying “OOOOOOOOh” but lovin' every second of it.
- Warm days and warm underwear together on the same day (In D.C. you know what I'm talking about as the weather fluctuates pretty frequently)
- Rooms without a roof (I have never seen one but I have heard they are happy so they make me happy thinking about that – huh does imaginings count as little happies???)
- Minions and pretending to have minions of my own. “Hey any of you like to write my dissertation?” “Mmakamakamooo” (Yes!! Yes!! - From Minion)
- Random goofiness as tonic for the soul
- Funny ranks on April pools day
- Laughing as I type these up.
- Holding hot coffee to soothe aching hands after typing for too long
- Portable bacon attachments for my car and stupid car insurance ads
- Baby dust and the random woman or man who said “Good luck!” with a smiley face on a letter they gave with my wife's vitamins for CM
- Snowmen named Olaf and Pet Reindeer
- Being Sanguine and never wanting to stop this list. Okay one more because you have read this far . . .
- Large Foam Rolls (for stretching out your back and other incredibly stupid things like playing baseball with random objects not designed for baseball so . . . much . . . fun)
- Bouncy Ball Pits . . . for . . . bedrooms :-) No joke google it. . . it is the latest sleeping fad. Move over sleep number, here comes sleep balls.
Until next time,
Sanguine Hubster
little happies #4
{one}
Daffodils!!!!
If these look suspiciously like the daffodils Mary Beth listed as her 1st happy, that's because we both bought them at Trader Joe's. I just couldn't resist their cheerfulness and spring smell! They brighten up our kitchen and I may or may not carry them into the living room with me too.
{two}
Good books
I hope it's okay to list the same little happy twice in a row! At least it's a different book. This one's about time travel back to the Middle Ages and how the main character may or may not be stuck there just as the Black Death is starting to happen because the characters in the present (future, really) are coming down with a mysterious flu virus. Dun dun dun. Definitely a page turner. Definitely stayed up too late last night reading!
{three}
Good laughs
So at my most recent doctor's appointment, I was told to begin B6 500 mg sustained release + something called "FertileCM" to increase you know what. Well, the Fertile CM arrived today, and along with it in the box was this:
Don't know what that is? It's baby dust. I kid you not!!! The little "poem" on the baggie says: "This baby dust is Special and is being sent to you hoping it will help your fondest dreams come true."
Whaaaaat?!?! I sincerely hope that 1) that isn't why FertileCM costs $20 for a month's supply and 2) please please please let this not be sent with every shipment! What is one supposed to do with baby dust? Sprinkle it on the bed? Throw it up in the air and dance around? Take one star or crescent moon with each vitamin? No instructions were included...
You just have to laugh.
{four}
New plants
This might look like a bunch of pots with dirt in them...which it is. But there's also seeds inside! I planted them on Saturday, in the rain, because it was way too wet to dig up the ground. Parsley, spring onions, arugula, lettuce, and spinach. I'm considering this a test of what grows well in pots.
{five}
Pretty teakettles
{six}
Mr. M!
He's always a little happy in my book =) We spent a lot of time this rainy weekend watching basketball, and I always love how into the game he gets - even if he doesn't care about either team! He just appreciates live sports.
Also he made dinner tonight and went for a walk with me. Double happy.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
sleepless
It's almost midnight and I can't get to sleep.
I tried, and failed.
I'm usually not an insomniac; I usually fall asleep peacefully and sleep soundly all night, so I'm always perturbed when I can just not my mind to stop racing long enough to drift off to dreamland.
At least I know why I can't sleep. I came home in angry, no, furious tears after a church event where I felt absolutely swarmed by all things pregnancy and baby. Three of the other ladies were very, very pregnant, and there were many jokes and half-complaints about baby-carrying. Many expressions of interest and concern for the expectant mamas.
An entire aspect of life - namely, pregnancy and childbearing - that not only do I not feel a part of, but I want to run away from as fast as I can while screaming at the top of my lungs.
At this point in my blog's life, I feel like I could recycle any number of posts:
I felt extremely jealous tonight. Just like last Lent (and many times between).
I felt angry at my childlessness and others' (unintended) insensitivity. Just like I wrote about here.
I felt vulnerable and exposed as I was the only one (seemed to me anyway) not laughing at the pregnancy jokes or rummaging in my purse instead of engaging in pregnancy-related conversation.
I have to trust I'm moving forward with increased acceptance and peace, but sometimes it just feels like I'm in a sickening vortex where the same emotions and challenges keep getting dredged up again and again, except with even more intensity as the babies around me and my months of childlessness keep multiplying.
The worst of it is, no one seems to hear my heart-cries of pain. (Kind of what I wrote about here.) Of course that's not entirely true - my dh would remind me immediately of all the wonderful, caring, supportive friends who have rallied and prayed for us, of course including blog friends!
But sometimes it just feels so darn lonely. Like I just want to say, "Can we all not talk about pregnancy? Because it feels like daggers to my heart. Honest." (An impossible plan) Like I crave someone to just get it before I have to spell it out for them.
Frankly, I just really want the pregnant belly or the child in my arms. It is just so hard feeling like an outsider in woman-land, feeling like the wierdo who isn't able to conceive and birth a baby already! I know there's ultimately no answer to the pointless question "Why me?" but that doesn't mean I don't ask it sometimes.
I should really try to fall asleep. Last thought: I appreciated this post by "All You Who Hope" so very much. Not because it gave me hope that one day I may indeed look back on this time as a horrible bad dream - I'm not really in a hopeful mood tonight - but because of its acknowledgement that infertility is blazingly, mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly, depressingly hard.
Jesus, I trust in you. Jesus, help me.
I tried, and failed.
I'm usually not an insomniac; I usually fall asleep peacefully and sleep soundly all night, so I'm always perturbed when I can just not my mind to stop racing long enough to drift off to dreamland.
At least I know why I can't sleep. I came home in angry, no, furious tears after a church event where I felt absolutely swarmed by all things pregnancy and baby. Three of the other ladies were very, very pregnant, and there were many jokes and half-complaints about baby-carrying. Many expressions of interest and concern for the expectant mamas.
An entire aspect of life - namely, pregnancy and childbearing - that not only do I not feel a part of, but I want to run away from as fast as I can while screaming at the top of my lungs.
At this point in my blog's life, I feel like I could recycle any number of posts:
I felt extremely jealous tonight. Just like last Lent (and many times between).
I felt angry at my childlessness and others' (unintended) insensitivity. Just like I wrote about here.
I felt vulnerable and exposed as I was the only one (seemed to me anyway) not laughing at the pregnancy jokes or rummaging in my purse instead of engaging in pregnancy-related conversation.
I have to trust I'm moving forward with increased acceptance and peace, but sometimes it just feels like I'm in a sickening vortex where the same emotions and challenges keep getting dredged up again and again, except with even more intensity as the babies around me and my months of childlessness keep multiplying.
The worst of it is, no one seems to hear my heart-cries of pain. (Kind of what I wrote about here.) Of course that's not entirely true - my dh would remind me immediately of all the wonderful, caring, supportive friends who have rallied and prayed for us, of course including blog friends!
But sometimes it just feels so darn lonely. Like I just want to say, "Can we all not talk about pregnancy? Because it feels like daggers to my heart. Honest." (An impossible plan) Like I crave someone to just get it before I have to spell it out for them.
Frankly, I just really want the pregnant belly or the child in my arms. It is just so hard feeling like an outsider in woman-land, feeling like the wierdo who isn't able to conceive and birth a baby already! I know there's ultimately no answer to the pointless question "Why me?" but that doesn't mean I don't ask it sometimes.
I should really try to fall asleep. Last thought: I appreciated this post by "All You Who Hope" so very much. Not because it gave me hope that one day I may indeed look back on this time as a horrible bad dream - I'm not really in a hopeful mood tonight - but because of its acknowledgement that infertility is blazingly, mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly, depressingly hard.
Jesus, I trust in you. Jesus, help me.
Monday, March 17, 2014
little happies #3
Excited to join with Stephanie again!
{one}
Is it just a coincidence that this is my third snow day on a Monday? And that all this snow day goodness started with Stephanie started her little happies link-up...I think not! Happy #1 is another snow day, in March! hooray!
{two}
Green pancakes for St. Patrick's day! Courtesy of the snow day. I tried to get them "kelly green" but they ended up more like sea foam / teal. Oh well. I'm not Irish at all but my husband is one-quarter (a strong and cherished quarter) so I was happy to celebrate the Saint and our collective heritage!
[will add picture later if I get around to it...just think of pancakes that are green]
{three}
Good books to read on a snow day! I am loving this author right now, and this book:
I read a book by him recently all about the summer of 1927. It was way interesting - seriously! (Charles Lindbergh, Babe Ruth, anarchist bombings...I learned a lot!) "At Home" has been so interesting too. He takes you room by room in a house and talks about the history of the room and stuff associated with it. So in the kitchen, he talks about the history of food preservation and refridgeration. In the scullery (that's where they washed the dishes) he talks about servitude in England in the late 1800's - that also fed my Downton Abbey obsession! And so on.
{four}
My husband's return! He was on a retreat this weekend (which was very fruitful, btw) but I missed him! The apt felt odd without him, and although I enjoyed some "me" time and some girl time, I was pleased as punch when he got back. I don't know how married couples do long separations.
{five}
Anticipation. We're currently planning our summer vacation to, of all places, Nebraska. (Sorry if I offended any Nebraskans! =)) To be honest, it's not our top choice for vacation, but a good friend of mine from college is getting married over Memorial Day and I'm so grateful that Mr. M agreed to make it into our vacation. I love the anticipation of planning a getaway. I'm especially excited about the bed and breakfast we're staying in for two nights, which is one of those gorgeous Victorian houses with quaint furniture and a romantic feel and of course super yummy breakfasts. Can't wait!
Off to enjoy my snow day - maybe my last?
+EcceFiat+
Sunday, March 16, 2014
vulnerability & the anima christi
Dealing with IF means dealing with a LOT of vulnerability.
By vulnerability, I mean feeling exposed, feeling like my skin is paper-thin, feeling fragile, and feeling the victim many times of circumstances beyond my control.
I feel vulnerable when I call up a married friend I haven't spoken with for a while, because I wonder if she'll have some "news" and I dread my reaction to it.
I feel vulnerable at Sunday mass when I'm talking with Jesus and He is comforting me in my sorrow, and I really want to cry but also don't want to cry in public.
I feel vulnerable when I go grocery shopping, or to the mall, or really anywhere in public and my heart twangs when I see a pregnant woman contentedly rub her belly or a mom playing with her toddler or pushing her baby around in the shopping cart.
I feel vulnerable when someone asks me, "so, what's new?" and I can only think of what's not new, of what hasn't happened, and I have to exert a lot of effort to make it sound like I'm happy with whatever is new in our lives.
I feel vulnerable when I get pregnancy announcements out of the blue and have to put together a happy fast really, really fast.
And so on. It's like walking on eggshells a lot. It means avoiding situations where I would feel too exposed - baby showers come immediately to mind, or social gatherings where I'll be the only non-mother present. Being vulnerable means wearing my heart of my sleeve a lot - or at least it seems that way to me. I would guess only the more astute observer of human nature would see beyond my happy face - but I often feel the urge to cry, or flee, when the conversation turns to babies and pregnancy and everything my heart desires more than anything else.
So...the Anima Christi. There is a connection!
This is one of my favorite prayers. Somehow, I can't remember how, I got in the habit years ago of praying it after every mass - maybe because it is so Eucharistic:
Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
...and so on. (Go here for the whole prayer.)
Well, there's that one line: "Within Thy wounds, hide me" that I think is so rich and meaningful. I love the imagery, and the intimacy with Christ it describes.
Here's the thing: this morning, our choir sang the Anima Christi in Latin. Somehow, I've never done that before - we have a beautiful English version that we sing, but never in Latin. And the line "Within Thy wounds, hide me" is in Latin: "Intra tua vulnera absconde me."
Vulnera...now, I am definitely not a Latin scholar! But that has to be the root of vulnerability, right? (If it's not, someone smarter please tell me!) I think it makes sense: wounds are places we are most vulnerable. They are sensitive, not easily touched or handled. Also a weakness, because with a wound we can't function normally.
For some reason, that word really struck me: "Within Thy vulnerability, hide me."
Also, "absconde" in the Latin sounds like "abscond" that no one really uses anymore (at least I don't) but, "The thief absconded with the treasure," ran away with, post-haste! It has more urgency, more neediness, than "hide me," doesn't it?
"Within Thy vulnerability, abscond with me, quickly!" is the way I'll think of that line now =)
To meditate on Jesus' vulnerability, His wounds...and me, tucked safely there, hidden, absconded with. I find that all very comforting, and often think of laying my head on His Sacred Heart. I am vulnerable - so was He. He opened Himself to every vulnerability, literally opened His arms on the cross, opened His heart to the soldiers, embraced every kind of insult and maltreatment, and did it all with love.
Anyway, don't know if that's interesting or comforting to anyone else, but I am grateful for the little inspiration from the Lord this morning!
+EcceFiat+
By vulnerability, I mean feeling exposed, feeling like my skin is paper-thin, feeling fragile, and feeling the victim many times of circumstances beyond my control.
I feel vulnerable when I call up a married friend I haven't spoken with for a while, because I wonder if she'll have some "news" and I dread my reaction to it.
I feel vulnerable at Sunday mass when I'm talking with Jesus and He is comforting me in my sorrow, and I really want to cry but also don't want to cry in public.
I feel vulnerable when I go grocery shopping, or to the mall, or really anywhere in public and my heart twangs when I see a pregnant woman contentedly rub her belly or a mom playing with her toddler or pushing her baby around in the shopping cart.
I feel vulnerable when someone asks me, "so, what's new?" and I can only think of what's not new, of what hasn't happened, and I have to exert a lot of effort to make it sound like I'm happy with whatever is new in our lives.
I feel vulnerable when I get pregnancy announcements out of the blue and have to put together a happy fast really, really fast.
And so on. It's like walking on eggshells a lot. It means avoiding situations where I would feel too exposed - baby showers come immediately to mind, or social gatherings where I'll be the only non-mother present. Being vulnerable means wearing my heart of my sleeve a lot - or at least it seems that way to me. I would guess only the more astute observer of human nature would see beyond my happy face - but I often feel the urge to cry, or flee, when the conversation turns to babies and pregnancy and everything my heart desires more than anything else.
So...the Anima Christi. There is a connection!
This is one of my favorite prayers. Somehow, I can't remember how, I got in the habit years ago of praying it after every mass - maybe because it is so Eucharistic:
Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
...and so on. (Go here for the whole prayer.)
Well, there's that one line: "Within Thy wounds, hide me" that I think is so rich and meaningful. I love the imagery, and the intimacy with Christ it describes.
Here's the thing: this morning, our choir sang the Anima Christi in Latin. Somehow, I've never done that before - we have a beautiful English version that we sing, but never in Latin. And the line "Within Thy wounds, hide me" is in Latin: "Intra tua vulnera absconde me."
Vulnera...now, I am definitely not a Latin scholar! But that has to be the root of vulnerability, right? (If it's not, someone smarter please tell me!) I think it makes sense: wounds are places we are most vulnerable. They are sensitive, not easily touched or handled. Also a weakness, because with a wound we can't function normally.
For some reason, that word really struck me: "Within Thy vulnerability, hide me."
Also, "absconde" in the Latin sounds like "abscond" that no one really uses anymore (at least I don't) but, "The thief absconded with the treasure," ran away with, post-haste! It has more urgency, more neediness, than "hide me," doesn't it?
"Within Thy vulnerability, abscond with me, quickly!" is the way I'll think of that line now =)
To meditate on Jesus' vulnerability, His wounds...and me, tucked safely there, hidden, absconded with. I find that all very comforting, and often think of laying my head on His Sacred Heart. I am vulnerable - so was He. He opened Himself to every vulnerability, literally opened His arms on the cross, opened His heart to the soldiers, embraced every kind of insult and maltreatment, and did it all with love.
Anyway, don't know if that's interesting or comforting to anyone else, but I am grateful for the little inspiration from the Lord this morning!
+EcceFiat+
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