Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Lots of news. Guess I've been busy.

I can now talk about something that overtook my life for about a month. My sister, Karen, is now engaged, as of Saturday night. She is marrying a lovely, yet obsessive, man named Bill. This Bill emailed me about seventeen times a day for the past month, needing advice, opinions and planning for the said engagement and post proposal party, involving about 30 people at my house. There was alot of lying and throwing Karen off track. Now, I was all for it, but by Saturday night, I was a wee bit glad she finally had the ring on her finger. After all was said and done, I told Bill, "Please do not get me this involved when you decide to have children."

I had a four day weekend. Friday was Good Friday. I work for a Christian company, so we always get it off. I figure that it makes up for the fact that we don't get Martin Luther King Jr. Day off. Mondays are my day off. It really only felt like a two day weekend, because I spent most of Friday and Saturday planning and worrying and cleaning for the party. Parties don't come easy for me, as I wrote about after the baby showers. I'm usually all for "Let's just meet at Red Lobster and let them wait on us." Then, if you are on neutral territory, you are free to leave when your introverted self gets overloaded.

I went to see my ObGyn yesterday. I have an RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist) appointment set up for next week, but I guess I wanted permission to go or something. I felt disloyal because I love my OB so much. He is so cool. He sat down and talked to me for 45 minutes. He basically said that he could help us through infertility and do tests and treatments and all that, but he would feel alot better if we went to an RE. He doesn't want us to ever feel like he wasted our time and money. I felt a little better afterwards and a little worse. Part of me wanted to hear him say, "You know, I think we should try this little magic pill that I keep hidden over in this drawer, that I only give my special patients." But I knew he wouldn't. He just told me, "Obviously, something is wrong. With everything that you are doing and we've tried, you should be pregnant by now. You need to see a specialist." I knew that was the truth, but it was still hard to hear. I had just had a really hard weekend. I had one more cycle before I saw all the doctors, and it was my first in awhile without the drugs. I guess I was hoping for a miracle. You hear stories like that. "I was almost ready to give up and BAMMO we got pregnant on accident." So I kept thinking, "Maybeeeee....." No dice. AF ("Aunt Flo") visited on Saturday. Ironically, she was discovered right as I was taking a pregnancy test. That seemed especially cruel.

I know in my heart that something is wrong, but I just deluded myself this last time that... "maybe."

I've been feeling pretty angry at God lately. I used to think that it wasn't allowed to be mad at God. But I figure if God can love mass murderers, he can still love me if I screech, "I am MAD MAD MAD at you!" and throw pregnancy tests against bathroom walls. After alot of thought yesterday, I realized why I have been angry. I have had some faulty assessments about him in the back of my head. I believe in grace and all of that, but I think that deep down, in the dark recesses of my mind, I have been believing that if I am a good, perfect Christian girl, then God will take care of me and give me all the good things in life. A fabulous career, sweet little babies, a clean home, a debt-free life. And after more thought, I realized that is completely wrong. For one thing, I know plenty of people, who God loves, who have really shitty things happen to them. Disease, infertility, loneliness. And I know plenty of people, who are fairly selfish and rotten, who seem to have all their heart's desires. Our relationship with God does not have anything to do with shit happening or not happening.

I guess I acknowledged this in my head, but not in my heart. It's probably pretty basic knowledge to most people. I think that I didn't want to accept that shit happens and I don't know why. It obviously doesn't have anything to do with whether or not you are on God's "good side" or how much he loves you or whatever. Everytime someone told me about their new pregnancy, I think my brain processed it as "God must love them more than me." It just hasn't been making sense in my head, why I can't have what I want the most. It hasn't seemed like an unfair request-- having a baby. Other people have them. It hasn't seemed fair. But life is not fair. I can't control it and I don't understand it.

So shit happens. And I don't know why.


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