Pancakes made me cry

It was Saturday morning, and I had woken up early. I decided that I wanted to surprise hubs and make pancakes for breakfast since we never have them.  I don't know what came over me that day, but I wanted to venture out of my comfort zone and make it from scratch--which I never do!  So, I got dressed and ran to the store while hubs was still sleeping, and I got the ingredients that I needed to make pancakes.  

When I got home hubs was already awake, and he saw the sack from the store, and he started questioning what I was doing.  I told him I was going to make pancackes, and he asked why I didn't buy the mix that was already made.  I didn't tell him, but I was annoyed.  Why couldn't he just understand that I was putting myself out of my comfort zone just to surprise him!?!?  On a Saturday! I'm no Betty Crocker by any means, but at least I was wanting to try, and if I were to be honest--I have this underlying fear.  

I'm afraid I won't be a good enough mother.

There. I said it. 

I want to be the mom that makes a wonderful breakfast for her children on Saturday mornings.  One that can cook almost anything.  Especially pancakes. What child doesn't love pancakes.  Surely if I could master pancakes, my children will love me. Right?  

Well, I guess my logic was that if I started practicing now, I could master cooking by the end of our foster care licensing process.  Crazy?  Maybe.  But, I can be a high achiever.

So, I started making the batter for the pancakes and realized that it was runny.  I was confused. I followed that recipe word for word.  I've seen pancake batter before, and it shouldn't be that runny. I started freaking out.  I couldn't understand what had gone wrong.  Determined to make those darn homemade pancakes for my husband, I started pouring the batter in the pan.  I watched, with tears in my eyes, as the batter started to bubble.  I knew it would be time to flip the pancake soon, so I turned around to get the spatula.  As I turned around, I saw hubs adding flour to my batter.  I asked him what he was doing, and he said, "I'm trying to fix it."  Anger began to build inside me.  

All I wanted was to surprise him.  I didn't want him to "fix" my problem.  I wanted him to accept my gesture. I was trying to be a good wife.  I was practicing to be a good mom, but it just wasn't good enough. 

I wasn't good enough.

When I grabbed the spatula from the drawer and went to flip the pancake, hubs spoke up and said, "what are you doing, it's not ready." Those words were like a huge dagger to my heart.  Tears began to flow down my face.  I dropped the spatula on the cabinet and ran to the bedroom.  I couldn't keep it in any longer. 

I felt like such a failure.  I couldn't even surprise my husband with pancakes.  "How will I ever be a good mom," I thought.  

And just like that, I questioned my self worth.

Will I ever be the wife I want to be?  Will I be a good mom?  All sorts of questions ran through my mind. 

I know it sounds stupid, but I've been struggling with all sorts of things lately.  I guess that's part of this whole foster care thing.  The classes, the homework, and the home visits make me wonder how I'll respond to situations, whether or not that mothering instinct will kick in, and if so--when? 

I know I'm a girl, and we're naturally emotional, but lately it's little things that get me.  Maybe it's the extra hormones I have flowing through my body--Thank you, Clomid!  But, like I said, it's the little things that get me...

Like pancakes.

Who knew pancakes could make me cry!?!?

I do it to myself

Since I am toddlerless in my daycare while his mom is home with their new baby, I am not forced to watch all the educational kid shows! (Can I get an Amen to getting the remote back!?!?)  While I find the occasional educational video okay, I do long to watch my shows while I wipe butts and clean up vomit.

One would think that since I have such a hard time seeing pregnant women, I wouldn't want to watch the TLC channel, but that's not the case.  I'm a sucker for TLC's "A Baby Story" and "Make Room for Multiples."  I find myself turning the tv on and going straight to that channel.

Maybe I like watching it because on "A Baby Story" there are moms that have had multiple pregnancies that turned out in miscarriages or stillbirths, and watching them deliver their rainbow baby warms my heart.  Or, maybe I like watching "Make Room for Multiples" because the moms have gone through the road of IUI's and IVF, and that's the road I'm heading down within a few months.  I don't know, really.  I just love the shows.  When the babies are delivered, I bawl like a baby cry with the parents.  *Sigh*  I do it to myself.

On a similar note, I sent in the papers for an IVF consultation at the Reproductive Resource Center in Kansas City yesterday.  Talk about being nervous!  I put off completely filing out the papers for over a month and a half because a part of me doesn't want to accept that I can't have children without the help of technology, but I suppose that's the territory that comes with infertility.  I should hear from the RRC within a few weeks about setting up an appointment.  I want to be like Bethany at Cloudy with a Chance of Infertility and get a surprise miracle pregnancy while waiting on an appointment with the RRC.  If I can have a child without all the extra needles and hormones, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but if this is what I have to do to get our miracle baby, I'll do it!

I know that whatever I have to go through, it will be worth it.  You know why it will be worth it?  It's because Psalm 56:8 says, "You have kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in Your ledger, each ache written in Your book."  I have confidence in knowing that my God knows my every care and has heard my every cry.  He knows what is best for my life, and if I have to go through IVF, it is because it's all a part of His master plan.

Who are you to say it's not meant to be? (infertility etiquette part 3)

The following excerpt from the Infertility Etiquette series is one that hit so close to my heart that I thought it deserved a post of its own rather than being grouped with another etiquette rule.  I'm going to go ahead let you read the rule, and then I'll explain why it has a special place in my heart.

"Don't Say They Aren't Meant to Be Parents
One of the cruelest things anyone ever said to me is, "Maybe God doesn't intend for you to be a mother." How incredibly insensitive to imply that I would be such a bad mother that God felt the need to divinely sterilize me. If God were in the business of divinely sterilizing women, don't you think he would prevent the pregnancies that end in abortions? Or wouldn't he sterilize the women who wind up neglecting and abusing their children? Even if you aren't religious, the "maybe it's not meant to be" comments are not comforting. Infertility is a medical condition, not a punishment from God or Mother Nature."


Here's my thoughts on this.  I cannot count the amount of times that I have heard, "It's just not meant to be," or "Maybe God doesn't want you to be a mom, maybe you're meant to do something else with your life, and worst of all, "you just need more faith!"  Talk about painful!  Of all the things that people have said to me the last year and four months, those kind of comments have hurt the most.  I've always struggled with figuring out Gods will for my life, and when infertility struck, I was more confused than ever.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't blame myself for our situation.  I tell myself that I MUST have done something wrong in life for God to punish me like this.  I know that these thoughts are of the flesh, but I can't help but think them.  I come from several generations of Assemblies of God believers.  Having faith in God and being in God's will is something that has been ingrained within me from a young age.  When people tell me that I need more faith, it definitely doesn't help the situation.  Just because I am considering IVF, it doesn't mean that I am lacking faith in God and His miraculous power.  I DO have faith that God can heal me, but at the same time, I look at reality.  Sure God can do a miracle in my life, but who's to say that the miracle won't come in the form of an IVF baby?  For my body to be able to have a baby, no matter how it happens, it will ALWAYS be considered a miracle; therefore, I will never not have enough faith!

Infertility Etiquette (part 2)

As a continuation from my previous post about Infertility Etiquette, I begin with the first two rules in proper infertility etiquette.  Personally, I've had more (negative) experiences with the first rule than the second, but I believe the author of this post on RESOLVE's website does a wonderful job of conveying why the following should not be done.  Without further ado...

"Don't Minimize the Problem
Failure to conceive a baby is a very painful journey. Infertile couples are surrounded by families with children. These couples watch their friends give birth to two or three children, and they watch those children grow while the couple goes home to the silence of an empty house. These couples see all of the joy that a child brings into someone's life, and they feel the emptiness of not being able to experience the same joy.
Comments like, "Just enjoy being able to sleep late . . . .travel . . etc.," do not offer comfort. Instead, these comments make infertile people feel like you are minimizing their pain. You wouldn't tell somebody whose parent just died to be thankful that he no longer has to buy Father's Day or Mother's Day cards. Losing that one obligation doesn't even begin to compensate for the incredible loss of losing a parent. In the same vein, being able to sleep late or travel does not provide comfort to somebody who desperately wants a child.


Don't Say There Are Worse Things That Could Happen
Along the same lines, don't tell your friend that there are worse things that she could be going through. Who is the final authority on what is the "worst" thing that could happen to someone? Is it going through a divorce? Watching a loved one die? Getting raped? Losing a job?  Different people react to different life experiences in different ways. To someone who has trained his whole life for the Olympics, the "worst" thing might be experiencing an injury the week before the event. To someone who has walked away from her career to become a stay-at-home wife for 40 years, watching her husband leave her for a younger woman might be the "worst" thing. And, to a woman whose sole goal in life has been to love and nurture a child, infertility may indeed be the "worst" thing that could happen.  People wouldn't dream of telling someone whose parent just died, "It could be worse: both of your parents could be dead." Such a comment would be considered cruel rather than comforting. In the same vein, don't tell your friend that she could be going through worse things than infertility."

In the desert...

After we received news from the Urologist that there was nothing that he could do for Luke, I began to sink into another slump.  A slump that led to more worry and hurt than before.  I had tried everything to get the doctors to help us as much as they could, but they said this was it; they couldn't help us anymore.  If we wanted a chance at having a baby, we had to do more evasive treatments (IVF).  To be honest, I was angry.  I refused to accept that the Urologist would just dismiss Luke after only meeting him once.  In my mind, it wasn't fair to us that he wouldn't even try to put him on medicine to see if it would help.  I saw it as giving up on us, and if I hadn't given up, why would the doctor?

This journey has been rough, to say the least.  Over the last year, 3 months and 4 weeks (not that I'm counting or anything), I have experienced many moments of God's wonderful Grace in my life.  There have been moments of peace that have come over me like a big, fleece blanket in the winter.  The warmth I felt in my heart after the world left it so cold and empty, renewed my faith and hope in my Creator.  Maybe my relationship with God is different than most.  I've heard people say that they've felt the Lord speak to them in their dreams, in their cars on the way to work, or even in the quietness of the night.  For me, the Lord speaks differently.  Maybe one could claim I'm not tuned into the Lord the way that I should be, but I don't think that this is the case.  The Lord, with the most important timing, speaks to me through music.  Whether it be a song that plays on the radio at the perfect time or a song I've not heard in years that comes to mind, I know that the Lord hears the cry of my heart and comforts me when I need Him the most.  

There is one specific song that I play time and time again because it basically outlines the last year and 4 months.  It refers to the battles in life, the trials and the pain.  I've held this song dear to my heart, especially as a worship leader.  If I could choose one song to define the rest of my life, THIS song would be it.  Below are the lyrics, I hope you enjoy!

The Desert Song

This is my prayer in the desert
And all that's within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is the God who provides

And this is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved
Of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flames

And I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain

I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

And this is my prayer in the battle
When triumph is still on it's way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on His promise I'll stand

All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favor and providence flow
I know I'm filled to be emptied again
The seed I've recieved I will sow

I tried...

I tried to make it through the night.  Honest, I did.  Apparently thinking of it all day didn't help me at all.  I tried to make it through a holiday without crying, but it just didn't happen.  I broke.  I told myself that if I handed out candy to the trick-or-treaters that I would be making a step in the right direction.  I mean, I could have gotten in my comfiest sweat pants and t-shirt, turned off all the lights in my house and locked the door and then watched tv until my breaking heart was content, but I didn't want to do that.  I wanted to try and make it through one holiday and not be "selfish."  I didn't want to think about all the parents grumbling and complaining that they HAD to take their kids out trick-or-treating when I was home wishing with all my heart that I had a child that I was blessed enough to take trick-or-treating.  But as most things I do, it didn't work out as I had planned. 

I'm so angry with myself.  I don't want to be like this.  I hate not being able to make it through holidays and baby showers/dedications without becoming and emotional wreck.  I mean, it's not like I don't make an effort to be different.  I really do try, but in the end I break down and withdraw from the people I love.  I know hope and pray that one day I'll be a mom whether it be the natural way or via adoption.  Unfortunately, that is not our reality now, so I'm forced to do the best that I can with what I have.

A new dynamic.

I'm not here to complain about this, I'm just here to simply update.  I never imagined our lives would turn out this way, but it is what we've been given to live with.

After my doctor appointment on October 13, I was asked to come back the following Thursday, October 22, so that I could have another Trans-vaginal Ultrasound done.  So, I did as I was asked, and I came back the next Thursday.  The Ultrasound took five minutes, and then we were sent to wait on the doctor.  A few minutes later, the nurse came and got us and took us to the Doctor's personal office to talk with him.  He said that according to the Ultrasound, there was nothing that showed why I would be in so much pain.  The cysts were still there, but everything else looked normal.  He said that it is a possibility that I may have Endometriosis because it would cause the kind of pain I've been having, but it wouldn't have shown up on the Ultrasound.  He said he wasn't going to look into that unless the pain continued over the next few months.  He asked me if we were serious about getting pregnant, and I just stared at him with a blank look on my face and then told him that we were serious about getting pregnant.  He said that the next step he was going to take was to put me on Clomid to help me ovulate so that I could (possibly) get pregnant.  But, before he would put me on it, he wanted Luke to do a semen analysis to make sure that that part of our situation was okay.  So, we did that. 

I worried all weekend, so when Monday came around I made sure to call and get the results.  After waiting all day for them to call me back, they called to tell me that the results weren't in yet.  I called the lab that we turned the test into, and they said the results had been sent to my doctor and they should have them, so Tuesday morning, I started calling to get the results.  The nurse called me back and said that the doctor wasn't in, but she had seen that I called a few times and decided to go ahead and look at the results for me.  She then told me that his results came back "abnormal."  Immediately I knew what that mean, and my heart sank.  I asked her what the specifics were, and she said that the normal count is supposed to be 20 million per milliliter (something like that ), and he has less than 2 million.  Also, she said something about his motility is really low too.  I asked the Nurse what the next steps were because the doctor said if Luke's tests didn't come back okay, He wasn't going to put me on Clomid.  She said that she was going to refer him to a Urologist, and that they weren't going to put me on Clomid until his numbers come up--if they will.  I asked her about doing an IUI, and she told me they wouldn't do it in the office with his numbers so low because it wouldn't work and would be useless.  When she told me that, I started to cry, and told her that I needed to go.  Another barrier against me getting pregnant had just appeared, and now we're facing male AND female infertility. 

I never expected that there was another problem besides me.  Never.  So, now we are faced with a new dynamic, but I'm not giving up--I'm just going to become pushy towards the doctors so that we can be as proactive as possible.

Healing...

I'm on a journey to healing.  Healing of my heart, my my mind, and my soul.  This fertility journey has stolen many aspects of my life, including happiness, and I'm BEYOND ready to take it back!  I'm beginning a book called Hannah's Hope.

Last weekend when Luke and I went on our "date," we stopped by the Christian bookstore on the south side of town.  I immediately went to the parenting section to seek out infertility books (ironic, huh?).  I wanted a Christian perspective on our situation, but to my surprise, they did not have even one book about infertility.  They had TONS of books on parenting, and adoption too, but NONE on infertility.  My heart ached for a few minutes because I had hoped to find a book.  I found the manager of the store and asked him if they carried any books on infertility.  He looked it up in the system, and once again they didn't have anything.  They've never ordered infertility books because of the overwhelming need for adoption and parenting books.  He could see the disappointment in my face due to not having even a single book, so the kind man asked me to follow him to the back.  He went straight to a computer, and he started looking something up.  He searched out for christian infertility books that he might be able to have shipped to his store.  As we were going down the list, the "Hannah's Hope" book popped out.  I read the following description, "Hannah’s Hope offers insightful and heartfelt encouragement for couples dealing with infertility, miscarriage or failed adoption. Building on the story of Hannah (First Samuel, chapter 1), Jennifer Saake interweaves her personal experiences with advice gleaned from over ten years of providing aid to grieving families through the support network she co-founded with husband Rick, Hannah’s Prayer Ministries. While remaining true to the very real and anguishing emotions of longing for a child, Jenni continually directs her readers back to the comfort and strength of a compassionate God. Each chapter concludes with a special “Burden Bearers” section offering practical suggestions for pastors, family members and friends."  When I read the description, I felt I should order it.  So, I did! 

I received a call from the bookstore Thursday afternoon, and by Friday afternoon the book was in my hands!  I've only just begun reading it, but I hope and pray that this book will help bring me peace and the healing I've been needing.  I can't wait to share with you what the Lord has done in my life through this book.

My plea...

Lately I've really been struggling.  A lot.  Friday we received our newest Netflix movie in the mail, and I was so excited to have a new movie to watch because our internet hasn't allowed us to get our Netflix fix (say that 10 times fast) via the Wii.  Apparently a few months back, I requested we receive the movie Like Dandelion Dust, and it came in the mail at a REALLY bad time.  I live in an emotional state as it it (Hey!  I'm a girl!), and I definitely shouldn't have watched that movie when I did. 

After crying throughout the entire movie (I told you I'm emotional), I sat on the couch processing every emotion I was feeling.  It wasn't long before I was curled up on one side of the couch pouring my heart out with tears.  Poor Luke, I feel that I put him in certain circumstances at times where he has no idea how to react to me.  With every pat on the back he gave me and every kind word he tried to say, my heart sank a little farther into my chest.  Of course, no kind word or gesture was going to console me at that point.  I knew that if I didn't get a hold of my emotions soon, it would be worse on me in the long run.  So, as I often do when I'm sad, I grabbed the keys to my car and set out for a drive.  Yes, I know driving alone on a Friday night at 11:00pm is not wise, but I knew I needed to get away for a while.

I drove around my neighborhood for a while before I decided to drive the main streets that surround the town.  As I drove around town, I began to cry out to God.  I said, "God, I don't understand.  This isn't fair!  What did I do that was so wrong that I can't be a mother?!?!?"  Basically, I began to plead with the Lord.  I cried my heart out to Him.  "Lord, PLEASE help me.  PLEASE!  I can't live like this anymore.  I'm tired of crying myself to sleep.  I'm tired of having breakdowns when I see undeserving parents who treat their little blessings like they're not good enough for love!  I'M TIRED OF CRYING MY HEART OUT AND NOTHING HAPPENING!"

After pleading with the Lord, the coolest thing happened.  As soon as I poured my heart out (I'm sure I looked looney driving around crying and talking out loud with no one else in the car), I finally felt that my prayers had reached Heaven.  The song Better Than A Hallelujah came on the radio.  The lyrics to the beginning of the song are, "God loves a lullaby in a mothers tears in the dead of night, better than a hallelujah sometimes.  God loves a drunkards cry, a soldiers plea not to let him die.  Better than a hallelujah sometimes.  We pour out our miseries, God just hears a melody.  Beautiful, the mess we are.  The honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah sometimes."

It was at that moment I knew everything was okay.  It was okay to cry my heart out to God.  He heard my prayers, my cries, and my pleas.  I have always felt that crying was a way of releasing inward pain, but at the same time hated to bring such deep sorrow and pain to the Lord.  I never want to 'complain' to the Lord about how unfair I felt I had been treated, but this time I seemed to have gotten an answer in response.  He hears my cries, as long as I bring my pain and sorrows before Him, everything will be okay.  He just longs to hear from us, no matter how we feel.


**If you haven't ever heard of  the movie/song I posted inside this blog, I recommend that you take a moment and click on the links, and give them a listen!**

The decision...

This past year has been a faith stretching, marriage testing kind of year.  If you've ever been on the same path as Luke and myself, you know exactly how I'm feeling right now.  You've cried yourself to sleep, you've wept uncontrollably, and nothing anyone said to you comforted your heart.  With every passing month your heart sank a little farther in your chest.  After my Endocrinologist appointment, Luke and I sat down and decided we are tired of month after month of disappointments.  We decided that we aren't going to put ourselves through this anymore.

We made a decision...

A decision that will change our journey.  A decision that also holds uncertainty, but one that we can see a light at the end of the tunnel.  After many hours of weeping before the Lord asking Him for a child to call our own, we feel as if the door to conceiving a child of our own has been closed.  As the saying goes, "where one door closes, another one opens."  This has been the case for us.  We've weighed the pros and cons of our decision, and without a doubt we feel that we've made the best decision for our lives.  We're adopting.  I know that adopting a child has it's downfalls too, but we acknowledge that.

I've come to grips that it's not the right time for me to conceive.  If I ever end up pregnant, it's not because of the doctors or the medicines they put me on, it would be by the grace of God that I bare a child in my womb.  I'm beyond ready to stop being so in tune with my body.  I'm ready to get back my life.  This infertility journey has stolen away most of my happiness, and I'm ready to become the new and improved Alicia Marie.  The Alicia who is even more understanding of other people and their pain.  The Alicia who is no longer afraid to go to hospitals and baby showers because it hurts too much to see other people happy about their baby.  I'm ready to put this behind us and move on to the new life we're going to live in the adoption world.

It's my prayer that everyone who reads this, or hears about our journey, will understand why we chose this new path and that they will accept it and support us.  We know that adopting costs a lot of money, but just as we did with our infertility journey, we're trusting that God will provide one way or another.  Even though the past (almost) year of infertility has stretched me mentally, I thank God for it.  I thank God that I have had the opportunity to meet new people who understand what I have felt.  I thank Him for being there in the darkness of the night when I weep from the sadness in my heart and for the peace that has passed all my understanding.  I am not worthy of His goodness, but I thank Him for everything He has done.