Starburst wrappers and toliet paper...

Due to infertility medication, my face had a bad break-out of zits on my chin.  After two months of working with the dermatologist to get rid of the ugly enemies, I started a new medication that burned my skin.  My face is peeling several layers.  My nose is burning from blowing and blowing.  My neck has a rash.  And I can't have a full bladder or else I pee my pants from coughing so hard (I guess I need to work on my Kegel exercises).  So there is a pile of toilet paper and Starburst wrappers on Sean's side of the bed.  Today I'm having a wonderful sick day.  I decided I ought to do something productive in bed so here I am.

Picture taken from Yellowstone.  I hated the camera the entire trip due to my remarkable zits.
Infertile women have their own battle scars.

My grandma's death has been so fresh in my brain.  Three weeks ago I sat across from her bed as I watched her take her last mortal breath.  She was so peaceful.  Her face looked like she was frolicking.  I went to her bedside and cried, "grandma, I will miss you so much.  Please send us a baby from heaven." 

Sean and I needed all the advocates in heaven that we could get.  But I had no idea that the fight was about to get worse. 

Now that the whole world knows about our struggles of getting pregnant, I decided I will also add to Sean's blog post with my frustrations, my jokes, my support and the blessings that have come as a result.

My wonderful Cousin, Julie, has helped me so much. We used up my minutes discussing treatments and fears. Every minute used was worth while. Her stories gave me so much hope. And her sympathies made me feel justified. I knew I was not alone and that others have it worse.

I discovered that although I feel alone, I am not alone. I chatted online with my long lost neighbor. She lived across the street for 15 years of my life. We attended the same school. We were the same age. And we grew-up together. However, I don't ever recall an actual conversation with her. I laughed out loud as we shared feelings and stories all stemmed from frustrations of infertility. Suddenly I thought, "I can do this." 

I've had so many comments and phone calls from family and friends.  It really shows me who cares.  The day Sean posted his message, my brother called me.  He's maybe called me three times in my life.  I called him back and left a message thinking he just had a medical question.  He returned my call with a message that said, "so I read Sean's blog post.  I am so sorry.  I want to help.  I love you." 

His message was so sweet.  Just moments before I was angry with him due to the fact that he had a five-month old baby, but after he had called I felt ashamed. His call meant the world to me.

I also had two coworkers that were so sweet to me yesterday.  Kathleen was absolutely hilarious.  I got a message from her on my vocera and I didn't bother to hear the message.  I walked over to the nurse's station and asked her what she wanted.  She said, "listen to your messages." 

I asked, "did you sing me a song?!" 

And she replied, "YES!"

I snickered thinking that in reality she was probably letting me know that I was getting a new patient.  Instead I heard an actual song she sung, "Anne Major, you are awesome!"  If I was on a heart monitor, you would have seen it skip beat.  It made my heart sing, "life can still be good."

I ran into Tammy in the cafeteria.  She immediately gave me a hug.  She told me, "I don't understand why you and your husband can't have children.  I am so sorry.   I read your blog and you are such wonderful people and I love you."  I cried.  Her words helped me finish my shift with the same loving kindness.  When I came home I shared her sweet message with Sean. 

My friend Marianne has been so supportive and offered to take me out to lunch instead of our plans for me to babysit her 4-month-old daughter.  She's been so sincere and she actually listens to me complain.  She doesn't even try to "fix" my infertility!

Messages have been sent from my friends sending their love.  There have been so many that I couldn't write about all of them.  I found it interesting that my bestest of friends immediately contacted me.  And although I was rude (sorry Aimee) and depressed (sorry Andrea) I still felt a sense of security. 

My heart is hardening and I hardly care. After feeling hopeless this morning, I sent a text to my sister. "when you started having infertility problems, did you ever question our faith?" My reply was in a phone call.

Solemnly she said, "yes, but I learned it was easier if I turned to the Lord."

 My face stung like salt in a wound. Tears were falling on my burned peeling skin. Of course I knew she was right. But I am not ready to stop searching the reason why God could be so cruel.

Guilty feelings reside in my head as I've complained about such a trivial matter.  I am ashamed and embarrassed.  I expressed my feelings to my brilliant sister who said to me today, "stop feeling that way.  You are grieving a real loss.  A loss of your children and a loss of your childhood dreams.  It is going to take time to heal." 

She is right.  It will.  No one can possibly understand what it is like to be told you can't have children unless they have been told the exact same thing.  Suddenly I feel like my life has no purpose.  No meaning.  I told my sister, "the greatest way to become selfLESS is to have children. So if God wants me to be selfISH, then I'm going to be selfish. We will go travel the world.  We'll drive nice cars and live in a gorgeous home.  I won't worry about trying to have children or adopting.  I'll be barren and as selfish as He is making me." 

My wise sister replied, "well what if one of your children is waiting for you in Heaven to adopt them." 

I groaned, "well they'll have to talk to God about that because He's the one that took away my power to have them in the first place."

New zits have emerged from my burned and peeling face.  I've been on five different medications to stop my acne and nothing has helped.  Once again, I'm reminded by the ugly suckers that I wasted away my body on a lost cause to get pregnant. 

Sean came home from work and I was right where he left me-in bed.  He didn't complain.  He laid next to me and handed me a shake from Arby's (my favorite).  Then he cleaned up all my tissues and wrappers and prepared dinner. 

Sometimes it seems like God puts me through the ringer for entertainment.  For example, we learned our awful news while we were in Yellowstone last week.  But we decided to ignore the news and enjoy our vacation.  When we arrived, Sean and I were so excited that we immediately started setting up our tent.  We had so much room to choose from, so we picked our favorite spot.  The next day our tent was literally floating.  Unlike Noah, we weren't warned of the floods.  No one else had a  tent surrounded by massive puddles.  Water started leaking into our tent and I was angry.  Like Noah, we moved our home to another dry location.

My mom being an optimistic was so excited that something, "memorable" happened on our trip.  She is hilarious.  Sometimes it seems like the storms only rage a war against me.  Sure other people are in the same storm, but it's my tent that gets stuck in the muddy rut.  Ironically,  I'm the one that chooses the ruts I get stuck into. 

But I know that after the rain and pain, beauty remains.

Yellowstone, the day after the storm.

I am going to live in faith.  But this week my dog has reminded me that it's ok to just eat, sleep, lounge and poop. 

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