Better (while simultaneously angering parents everywhere)

As I re-read the last two posts, it makes sense that people would respond with empathy and concern. And, this post isn't going to, nor is it intended to "undo" the expression of emotion that I've posted before. 

However, the last two days have not been full of weeping and gnashing of teeth. I have been thinking on something my husband said, which I believe is true, and also has the risk of pissing off some parents.

Children do not give meaning and value to a life.

Ok, so that statement? That was exactly what I needed to hear after the day of crying, returning from the doctor's office. 

It may seem unusually harsh and broad, but I think that if one slows down and thinks about it, there will be fewer howls of indignation from the happily married with children set. 

Certainly children bring meaning. They are valuable (if they were not, my desire to be a mom would be silly and likely even crazy.) However, having children does not make my life meaningful and valued. My life is already meaningful and valued, based on the value that Christ has endowed upon it, as a fellow heir.... etc, etc. You can fill in the rest.

Valuable, Same as infertile couples, same as single believers. (Or, shall we relegate single believers into a subcategory of "less than" because they are not married? [Unfortunately many Christians do act as though singles and non-childrened families are lesser than. Another post for another day.])

Secondly, as he assured me, our lives will be good lives, because we are already a family. A family of 2.  The numbers are of no consequence, we became a family when we married. 

Finally, I'm still  anxious regarding the next 3 months and fear that all of the side effects of Lupron will come raining down on me. However, as my mom encouraged me, exercise will be one of the best management tools I can utilize. So that's my plan. get my butt out of bed and exercise even when I don't want to. I have a little hope it won't be as terrible as I am wont to believe.

Different ears

My husband and I have different ears.  We hear things very differently.

I leave the fertility specialist in tears almost every time we see her. Dr. Scotchie is amazing, and she's only a few years older than me. She's a terribly empathetic physician, which is a high value for me, as I've interacted with a number of strange, odd, blunt, impersonal physicians (when my dad had his stroke).

Yesterday was our followup, which took an hour because I processed everything verbally.  I had a million questions, it felt like. I probably could have picked her brain for another 40 minutes, but she (surprise!) had other patients to care for.  She is going to put me on Lupron, a 3-month drug which will put me into a "false" menopause. Well, actually what it will do is shut my ovaries down (this is how I understand it. However I'm not really an expert on this at all).  The ovaries not producing estrogen will cause me to have menopausal symptoms.

Anyway, My husband has the ears of a positive person: He heard that we have a really good chance of getting pregnant after I take this Lupron shot. (Freaking Menopause, people!)

I cried.

It's just that I'm so angry that we even have to be on this path. When she talked about statistics, I heard: 20% chance of conceiving with shots and IUI. 11% chance with pills and IUI (and you can't really do IUI more than 3 months in a row). 5% chance on our own. Decreasing probability over the next year because my endometriosis will grow back.

Seriously God? There are meth addicts that have children!

When I told Adam how angry I was he reminded me of three couples that we know that are infertile (And I just now remembered a 4th) that are some of the most amazing people we know, and they are  certainly holier than I am.

So, I've concluded that there must be some kind of connection between being really holy, and God saying "no babies for you!"

Christmas Lights Therapy

There's something about being a counselor that makes you unafraid to diagnose yourself with various ailments. Depression for one.

I think most counselors - well, most decent counselors - are pretty good at self-analyzing, and realizing when they are blue, dark,  depressed, down.  Just the other day at work, one of the counselors mentioned her annual wrestling match with that general feeling of malaise during the winter.

(The current everyday experience of rain and/or fog isn't really helping, either) 

As I stood at our doorway, getting ready to get to bed (erg, its already late...) I looked around the living room, decked out with modest Christmas decorations. The white lights glowed from the tree and the garland.

I realize I'm blue. Not getting what I desire (that what is biblical and natural) has pushed me into a dark place. A place where I know the Lord is with me, but has not released me from.  I'm not skipping or running through this place. Walking. Through the valley of the shadow.

But the small, glowing lights of Christmas work their own therapy.

The people walking in darkness
   have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
   a light has dawned. 
Isaiah 9:2