It's a new year, and I've decided that I'm done being the victim of my circumstances and whining about everything. Soooooo, I'm making changes that hopefully I can live with and can help me be a better me.
I started back working out tonight---and I feel great! My legs are totally rubbery, but I got to work off some of the stress I aquired from working with a student who chooses to do absolutely nothing when he's capable of it. It's sad to see a Jr. High student fail, but he just sits and throws a fit when you make him pick up a pencil and write--we've tried everything under the sun to get him to work, but he just wants to do the fun stuff and have me do all of his "work". Yeah, that's gone over real well, especially since I work in this low-functioning special ed room where we have kids with real disabilities who are working their patooties off to try to complete work at half the level he was born with. Urrrgghh. Anyway, I redirected my angst at the workout, and have relieved some of that stress.
As I was finishing up, I decided to weigh myself----and SURPRISE!!! I've lost 5 pounds since my car accident!! I'm all kinds of happy about it, and I want to continue this success. I know that my health will be better if I weigh less, and I'll have a more sympathetic doctor if I do, so I want to get started with this journey before I see my new doctor. I'm calling tomorrow to set up the first appointment. I'm really apprehensive about it, and don't want to get laughed out of the door because of my weight.
My other big thing right now is that I am wanting to make a home-cooked meal for my husband and myself every night. I've done well with that so far, but tonight we're just eating leftovers so that we're not wasting food. So far this week, we've had baked *fried* chicken with mashed potatoes, chicken alfredo with baked chicken, sloppy joes and fries, baked spaghetti, and we've been eating on a chocolate cake all week. It's not low-cal food, but it's lower-calorie than fast food, and we're cutting down on fried food. I'm also trying to eat more fruit and veggies, so I'm foregoing the cake most nights in favor of a giant apple with a bit of homeade fruit dip. I can cook, and I love cooking, so why not use my talents?
I'm thinking that the home-baked stuff plus walking all over campus with my students plus working out 3-5 times a week plus taking my Metformin should make me lose some weight. It seems the *correct* way to start my new year. I'd say it's the RIGHT foot to start off on, but I'm left-handed and left-footed, so I'm really starting my year off on the left foot in order to be right. Right? (I'm obviously feeling better since I'm back to puns and humor!)
So, off to cook and crochet and read and study and help my students I go----LEFT foot forward!!!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
New Year, Thank Goodness!
It's FINALLY 2012. I don't normally say unkind things about those who have passed from our lives, but I'm glad 2011 finally left this planet. In fact, I'll be happy that I'll never have to live through 2011 again!! (How's that for positive statements?)
No, in all seriousness, I am glad to be starting a new year. A new year has new possibilities, a chance for at least some of my dreams to come true, a time of newness for everyone.
I don't make resolutions, since I always break them, but I do like to set goals. My goals for this year?
*Finish reading through my Bible and then pick a topic to do an in-depth study on
*Lose at least 25 pounds. I know I can do this, I just need to be motivated.
*Start looking at a new house (if I'm re-hired for next school year)
*Take some special education classes and work towards that certification
*Get pregnant, stay pregnant, and bring home a living baby
*Start getting serious about adoption if the above isn't possible.
I don't know how many of those goals are possible to achieve, but I have 12 months to begin working on them. I refuse to see this as a negative, and instead to see the positive in it. Let the work in me begin, and let me be the light to the fuse. Here's to a much better 2012!
No, in all seriousness, I am glad to be starting a new year. A new year has new possibilities, a chance for at least some of my dreams to come true, a time of newness for everyone.
I don't make resolutions, since I always break them, but I do like to set goals. My goals for this year?
*Finish reading through my Bible and then pick a topic to do an in-depth study on
*Lose at least 25 pounds. I know I can do this, I just need to be motivated.
*Start looking at a new house (if I'm re-hired for next school year)
*Take some special education classes and work towards that certification
*Get pregnant, stay pregnant, and bring home a living baby
*Start getting serious about adoption if the above isn't possible.
I don't know how many of those goals are possible to achieve, but I have 12 months to begin working on them. I refuse to see this as a negative, and instead to see the positive in it. Let the work in me begin, and let me be the light to the fuse. Here's to a much better 2012!
Saturday, December 10, 2011
This and That
Today's post is totally going to be full of randomness...it's been so long since I posted that I imagine most of you have forgotten about me. Sorry for that, but I had to take a break and have some "me" time. I've been working late each day, trying like a madwoman to get Christmas presents done, and then dealing with life in general, so here is an itemized list of my last month or so...
1. No period since October 13. I haven't been working out due to the fact that I'm going to training, practicing for worship team, have meetings, or have youth group up until the gym is closed. I have also been just sick enough with the creeping crud that on days when I could have gone to the gym, I couldn't breathe well enough to make it through the workout. Then there was the car...
2. The Car...(cue dramatic music) The first week of November, my car died. As in kaput. It took three weeks in the shop and $2,000, but I got her back with a new engine. I had her for three weeks and then Tuesday happened. We were experiencing our first snow of the season. I had already had my husband call the school to let them know I would be late to work, like 15 minutes late due to the road conditions. Halfway to work, (while traveling at top speeds of 30mph on a 55mph), at a crossroads, there was this young woman who decided that she should just put on her brakes WHEN she got to the stop sign. She of course, skidded straight through the intersection. I swerved to avoid her and then hit the guy coming from the other direction who was also swerving to avoid her. Even though it was a slow-impact crash (We both had been slowing down b/c we could see her approaching the intersection and it didn't look promising), the estimate is $4,000 of damage to my car. All fixable, but still...I just spend $2000 to fix it!
3. That $2000? It was my new home/adoption fund money. It stinks that I can't use that money for its intended purpose. We have to have a new home to qualify for foster/adoptive parenting. Does this sound familiar? Yeah, it does. I go through this like every three months where I want to move forward with becoming a parent and then get hit with the reality.
4. Hubby did get a job again. I don't know how long it will last, but the additional income is greatly appreciated. We can start building up the adoption/new home fund again.
5. I am working crazy hours trying to get an afghan done. I tweaked the pattern and am trying desperately to get it done--so far it's required two trips to Wal-mart to buy more yarn. My goal is to have it done by December 22. We'll see...
6. I'm getting referred to an OBGYN who specializes in fertility medications. I haven't heard from her yet, and it probably won't happen until February or later, but it feels nice to think that we're moving forward with our family planning process. (Which is still a weird thing to think how much planning we have put into this when so many others don't plan at all for children. It's almost getting to a scientific endeavor with charts and graphs and timing and calculations...that part stinks, but my future children will KNOW how much they were wanted--there will be no "accidents" here!)
I've already taken too long away from the afghan, and I still have to go to Grandma's house to practice for the two Christmas concerts I'm playing for...the music is still kicking my caboose, but I've got to get it together...Have a good day, and in case I forget it, MERRY CHRISTMAS!
1. No period since October 13. I haven't been working out due to the fact that I'm going to training, practicing for worship team, have meetings, or have youth group up until the gym is closed. I have also been just sick enough with the creeping crud that on days when I could have gone to the gym, I couldn't breathe well enough to make it through the workout. Then there was the car...
2. The Car...(cue dramatic music) The first week of November, my car died. As in kaput. It took three weeks in the shop and $2,000, but I got her back with a new engine. I had her for three weeks and then Tuesday happened. We were experiencing our first snow of the season. I had already had my husband call the school to let them know I would be late to work, like 15 minutes late due to the road conditions. Halfway to work, (while traveling at top speeds of 30mph on a 55mph), at a crossroads, there was this young woman who decided that she should just put on her brakes WHEN she got to the stop sign. She of course, skidded straight through the intersection. I swerved to avoid her and then hit the guy coming from the other direction who was also swerving to avoid her. Even though it was a slow-impact crash (We both had been slowing down b/c we could see her approaching the intersection and it didn't look promising), the estimate is $4,000 of damage to my car. All fixable, but still...I just spend $2000 to fix it!
3. That $2000? It was my new home/adoption fund money. It stinks that I can't use that money for its intended purpose. We have to have a new home to qualify for foster/adoptive parenting. Does this sound familiar? Yeah, it does. I go through this like every three months where I want to move forward with becoming a parent and then get hit with the reality.
4. Hubby did get a job again. I don't know how long it will last, but the additional income is greatly appreciated. We can start building up the adoption/new home fund again.
5. I am working crazy hours trying to get an afghan done. I tweaked the pattern and am trying desperately to get it done--so far it's required two trips to Wal-mart to buy more yarn. My goal is to have it done by December 22. We'll see...
6. I'm getting referred to an OBGYN who specializes in fertility medications. I haven't heard from her yet, and it probably won't happen until February or later, but it feels nice to think that we're moving forward with our family planning process. (Which is still a weird thing to think how much planning we have put into this when so many others don't plan at all for children. It's almost getting to a scientific endeavor with charts and graphs and timing and calculations...that part stinks, but my future children will KNOW how much they were wanted--there will be no "accidents" here!)
I've already taken too long away from the afghan, and I still have to go to Grandma's house to practice for the two Christmas concerts I'm playing for...the music is still kicking my caboose, but I've got to get it together...Have a good day, and in case I forget it, MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Worst. Dream. Ever.
Last night I had the absolute worst dream I have ever had in my life. Ever. It didn't even fall into the "horrid nightmares that occasionally return to creep me out to the point of not wanting to look in the closet or under the bed" category. It was absolutely awful. I woke up shouting and sobbing, and held on to hubby for half an hour in the middle of the night. Then I only slept for 10-20 minutes at a time for the rest of the night because every time I fell completely asleep, one scene kept repeating itself and I just kept waking up trembling. I have thought about it all morning, and hope that it just stays a dream and NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER TO INFINITY HAPPENS IN REAL LIFE.
Normally, my nightmares fall into 2 categories: Critters I despise, and harm coming to those I love. I've gotten to the point where dreams of me falling and breaking various limbs has turned into a "Stooge-esque" affair, where I just shake my head and think, "yeah, that's probably what's gonna happen one of these days." But it doesn't SCARE me. The recurring critter nightmare is one where I have the Midas touch, only everything turns into poisonous snakes or spiders. And of course, the spider one is all the more disturbing because spiders do actively seek me out to bite. After one of those nightmares, I find myself praying for kittycats and puppydogs, or sitting up and counting my blessings and then turning on the TV to watch a movie for about 15 minutes until I've cleansed my mind of the terrifying thoughts. It always works for me. The nightmares about those I love are a little harder, because they have that small element of truth to them. I find myself praying for that person or people, and then telling my husband the dream. He's really good at soothing me back to sleep, and he usually turns on the TV or radio to quiet my mind until I get calmed down enough to go back to sleep.
Last night, though, nothing worked. In that weird way that dreams work, time was flexible, locations appeared that I have never seen before, and you find yourself doing things that seem impossible in the light of day. The dream started off innocently enough. I was in the hospital having a baby. I have those kind of dreams every now and then. No biggie. We bring him home to our house and life goes on as normal. (And by normal, I mean that one second we're bringing him home and then the next second, we've been home for a month.) I don't recognize the house at all, never been in it before in my life, but I don't think twice about the fact that it's my house. (Everything sounds great, right?) Anyway, I find myself sitting at the kitchen table eating a Sub.way Meatball Sub. (Which I have never had in my life--What's up with that?) I find myself getting ready to send them an e-mail on a pizza sub idea I had. Then I sort of sigh and smile as I pick up my iced tea, and reflect upon the fact that hubby and I had been cozy the night before and that it might be possible that we could have two children within a year...(And right now is when my mind should have been red-flagging this as a total dream, due to my PCOS, but it didn't. I am still not realizing that this is a dream. It is all as real to me as this computer is.)
...at that exact instant, I drop my iced tea glass to the floor and realize that I have not heard my son cry or make any noise whatsoever. Furthermore, I can't remember when the last time was that I saw him. It strikes me that it's been over 24 hours since I fed him, and that I don't know what's wrong...(I know now that this would not be possible, but once again, at 3:00 in the morning when I woke up, this was NOT an impossible situation). I scream for my husband, and he rushes into the baby's room. By the time I get there, he's screaming and crying and trying CPR. I see him holding our baby, and there's no movement, no sound, no nothing. And because of my vast knowledge gleaned from all the crime shows I've seen, I know that our baby has been dead for at least 12 hours, and I never had checked on him in that time. Who doesn't notice their baby is dead for 12 hours? What kind of horrible person was I? I just fell to the floor sobbing and screaming...
And then I woke up. In my head I know that I will be a good mom when that day comes, but in my heart right now, I'm wondering if I would be a good mom. It's just scared the bejeebers out of me. I spent at least 30 minutes just sobbing and shaking, and apologizing to my husband for not being a good mom. He just kept holding me and comforting me, and praying over me until I stopped shaking and the sobs had subsided. I have seen that baby's face every time I close my eyes since then. You would think that something so obviously NOT real wouldn't stick so strongly in my mental movie gallery, but that's all that's playing right now. Ugh.
It's like satan is using my biggest fears against me. Add to that the fact that my cousin lost her little boy last week, and I know kinda where this dream came from. But my dream was sooo vivid, and so realistic...
Let me state what I know. I know that I do not actually have a baby son. I know that I do not live in that house. I know that I don't eat that kind of food at Sub.way. I know that I would not ever "forget" that I had a living baby. I know that I would worry if I didn't hear my baby breathing over a monitor. I know that I wouldn't "forget" to feed my baby. I know...that this was a nightmare, using things that I hope about and things that I fear, twisting them together until it becomes something that would never happen...I know these things, but like any good lie, there remains that niggling doubt in my head and heart.
It's going to be hard to go to sleep tonight. I need to watch something completely benign before going to bed, and then have something in the DVD player that is just funny to get my mind off of things so that I can go to sleep and NOT have this dream again. EVER. I don't even want anyone to joke about it. It bothers me greatly, and is still giving me the willies.
I know that if you're still reading this, you've probably decided that I'm certifiable. Right now, you're probably not far off the mark. If there's any consolation, it's that I'm not normally like this. You also probably didn't want to hear or read any of this, but I needed to kind of "write it out", in the hopes that it would keep it out of my head tonight. Here's hoping for a better night tonight.
Normally, my nightmares fall into 2 categories: Critters I despise, and harm coming to those I love. I've gotten to the point where dreams of me falling and breaking various limbs has turned into a "Stooge-esque" affair, where I just shake my head and think, "yeah, that's probably what's gonna happen one of these days." But it doesn't SCARE me. The recurring critter nightmare is one where I have the Midas touch, only everything turns into poisonous snakes or spiders. And of course, the spider one is all the more disturbing because spiders do actively seek me out to bite. After one of those nightmares, I find myself praying for kittycats and puppydogs, or sitting up and counting my blessings and then turning on the TV to watch a movie for about 15 minutes until I've cleansed my mind of the terrifying thoughts. It always works for me. The nightmares about those I love are a little harder, because they have that small element of truth to them. I find myself praying for that person or people, and then telling my husband the dream. He's really good at soothing me back to sleep, and he usually turns on the TV or radio to quiet my mind until I get calmed down enough to go back to sleep.
Last night, though, nothing worked. In that weird way that dreams work, time was flexible, locations appeared that I have never seen before, and you find yourself doing things that seem impossible in the light of day. The dream started off innocently enough. I was in the hospital having a baby. I have those kind of dreams every now and then. No biggie. We bring him home to our house and life goes on as normal. (And by normal, I mean that one second we're bringing him home and then the next second, we've been home for a month.) I don't recognize the house at all, never been in it before in my life, but I don't think twice about the fact that it's my house. (Everything sounds great, right?) Anyway, I find myself sitting at the kitchen table eating a Sub.way Meatball Sub. (Which I have never had in my life--What's up with that?) I find myself getting ready to send them an e-mail on a pizza sub idea I had. Then I sort of sigh and smile as I pick up my iced tea, and reflect upon the fact that hubby and I had been cozy the night before and that it might be possible that we could have two children within a year...(And right now is when my mind should have been red-flagging this as a total dream, due to my PCOS, but it didn't. I am still not realizing that this is a dream. It is all as real to me as this computer is.)
...at that exact instant, I drop my iced tea glass to the floor and realize that I have not heard my son cry or make any noise whatsoever. Furthermore, I can't remember when the last time was that I saw him. It strikes me that it's been over 24 hours since I fed him, and that I don't know what's wrong...(I know now that this would not be possible, but once again, at 3:00 in the morning when I woke up, this was NOT an impossible situation). I scream for my husband, and he rushes into the baby's room. By the time I get there, he's screaming and crying and trying CPR. I see him holding our baby, and there's no movement, no sound, no nothing. And because of my vast knowledge gleaned from all the crime shows I've seen, I know that our baby has been dead for at least 12 hours, and I never had checked on him in that time. Who doesn't notice their baby is dead for 12 hours? What kind of horrible person was I? I just fell to the floor sobbing and screaming...
And then I woke up. In my head I know that I will be a good mom when that day comes, but in my heart right now, I'm wondering if I would be a good mom. It's just scared the bejeebers out of me. I spent at least 30 minutes just sobbing and shaking, and apologizing to my husband for not being a good mom. He just kept holding me and comforting me, and praying over me until I stopped shaking and the sobs had subsided. I have seen that baby's face every time I close my eyes since then. You would think that something so obviously NOT real wouldn't stick so strongly in my mental movie gallery, but that's all that's playing right now. Ugh.
It's like satan is using my biggest fears against me. Add to that the fact that my cousin lost her little boy last week, and I know kinda where this dream came from. But my dream was sooo vivid, and so realistic...
Let me state what I know. I know that I do not actually have a baby son. I know that I do not live in that house. I know that I don't eat that kind of food at Sub.way. I know that I would not ever "forget" that I had a living baby. I know that I would worry if I didn't hear my baby breathing over a monitor. I know that I wouldn't "forget" to feed my baby. I know...that this was a nightmare, using things that I hope about and things that I fear, twisting them together until it becomes something that would never happen...I know these things, but like any good lie, there remains that niggling doubt in my head and heart.
It's going to be hard to go to sleep tonight. I need to watch something completely benign before going to bed, and then have something in the DVD player that is just funny to get my mind off of things so that I can go to sleep and NOT have this dream again. EVER. I don't even want anyone to joke about it. It bothers me greatly, and is still giving me the willies.
I know that if you're still reading this, you've probably decided that I'm certifiable. Right now, you're probably not far off the mark. If there's any consolation, it's that I'm not normally like this. You also probably didn't want to hear or read any of this, but I needed to kind of "write it out", in the hopes that it would keep it out of my head tonight. Here's hoping for a better night tonight.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day
Today is one of those days that few outside of the Infertility and Infant Loss Community ever hear about, but for those of us who have experienced such a loss, it is a day you don't forget, because it means that someone, somewhere in this world, is praying for you and your family. It means that you are not alone in your grief, and that feeling is freeing, especially when it seems that so many people have forgotten that you had a child. My heart also mourns with my sisters who also lost their pregnancies early on, when all you have is that one ultrasound picture, if any. It is a day we stand together, arm in arm, hankies at the ready, as we remember our children, the dreams of our children, and the hopes we had for our children. We remember that we are not alone; that no race, no age, no level of health, no socio-economic status is exempt from this tragedy. We remember oh so deeply that life is a precious gift, not to be taken lightly, not to be discarded or trampled upon. We REMEMBER.
One of the ways we remember this day is to light a candle at 7:00 and keep it lit for an hour, creating a wave of light around the globe. While so many will not know why we light our candle, we know. I have many friends across this country and beyond who will also light their candles tonight. We pray that someday lighting a candle on this day will just be lighting a candle, but for us, for now, this is our memorial; our tribute to the lives that could have been.
This year it's hitting even harder than the past two. This is my third year to light a candle for my Elizabeth. It's actually her expected 2nd birthday. I should be bustling around planning a party, but instead, we're spending a quiet evening at home--just the two of us (and the pets). But as I sit tonight and remember my loss, I also pray for my cousin, who lost her 3-month old to SIDS last week. He was born soo premature--just 3 pounds, but he had made it all the way to six pounds, and the doctor was so pleased with his development. That was on Friday. On Saturday, his mom took him to a family gathering with the cousins (I stayed home--I just knew I'd see them at Christmas, and I had a bad cold that I didn't want the babies to catch.). Then on Sunday, while he was laying on the couch sleeping while his daddy was sitting in there with him, he just stopped breathing. He couldn't be saved, even though everything was tried.
I just don't understand it. I understand that miscarriages happen. I know (in my head at least) that there are all kinds of things that can cause death in utero. I even know that infants die--how can I not know that, since I scream at the TV every time I hear about one of these precious ones being thrown away by their "mothers" or killed by "mom's boyfriend" who shakes him or her to death. But it just boggles my mind that a family who fought so hard to bring a life in this world has to now lay to rest all of their hopes and dreams for his life.
So tonight as I light my candle, I'll light another one for my cousin, and remember to say a prayer for all of those who grieve as I grieve, who mourn as I mourn, in the hopes that one day we can rejoice with those who rejoice. I light my candle to remember that innocence I had that has now been lost, and pray that not one more person has to lose that innocence through the loss of the life of their child.
One of the ways we remember this day is to light a candle at 7:00 and keep it lit for an hour, creating a wave of light around the globe. While so many will not know why we light our candle, we know. I have many friends across this country and beyond who will also light their candles tonight. We pray that someday lighting a candle on this day will just be lighting a candle, but for us, for now, this is our memorial; our tribute to the lives that could have been.
This year it's hitting even harder than the past two. This is my third year to light a candle for my Elizabeth. It's actually her expected 2nd birthday. I should be bustling around planning a party, but instead, we're spending a quiet evening at home--just the two of us (and the pets). But as I sit tonight and remember my loss, I also pray for my cousin, who lost her 3-month old to SIDS last week. He was born soo premature--just 3 pounds, but he had made it all the way to six pounds, and the doctor was so pleased with his development. That was on Friday. On Saturday, his mom took him to a family gathering with the cousins (I stayed home--I just knew I'd see them at Christmas, and I had a bad cold that I didn't want the babies to catch.). Then on Sunday, while he was laying on the couch sleeping while his daddy was sitting in there with him, he just stopped breathing. He couldn't be saved, even though everything was tried.
I just don't understand it. I understand that miscarriages happen. I know (in my head at least) that there are all kinds of things that can cause death in utero. I even know that infants die--how can I not know that, since I scream at the TV every time I hear about one of these precious ones being thrown away by their "mothers" or killed by "mom's boyfriend" who shakes him or her to death. But it just boggles my mind that a family who fought so hard to bring a life in this world has to now lay to rest all of their hopes and dreams for his life.
So tonight as I light my candle, I'll light another one for my cousin, and remember to say a prayer for all of those who grieve as I grieve, who mourn as I mourn, in the hopes that one day we can rejoice with those who rejoice. I light my candle to remember that innocence I had that has now been lost, and pray that not one more person has to lose that innocence through the loss of the life of their child.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Right Battle, Wrong Armour
Wow! It's been one heck of a week, just like I thought it would be...anytime I try to get more serious about something, my week just explodes around me, as if daring me to make plans and try to stick to them. So this post will be some randomness, some thoughtfulness, and a whole lot of just stuff I want to write down so I don't forget it.
***Remember, feel free to comment---I won't bite, and I might even find a way to bless you, too***
First things first---after spending over 45 days with either spotting or heavy bleeding, I can finally say for 100% certain that my cycle of doom is FINALLY over. Where are the helium balloons, the streamers, the cake...? Now I'm on to a new adventure of a cycle--and I have no idea of what day I'm on, simply because I was counting how long it took to stop bleeding, not when to chart as the new cycle. Oh well, I'm just going to roll with it.
Secondly, I was surprised by something my mom did for me this weekend. I went over to her house to help her with some computer stuff, and she handed me a box with HCG pills in it. She watches Dr. Oz, and he had said that they're unsafe when you use them with that drastic diet plan, but that he often prescribed them for patients suffering with infertility. So my mom wrote down all of that information, and got me a month's supply. At this point, I don't think anything will hurt, so here I go for a month. It was just weird, because just two weeks ago, she was chewing me out over worrying about what was going on with my body. Massively chewing me out---as in "you should stop moping about this, the world doesn't revolve around you". "You're making a mountain out of a molehill...if you just stop thinking about infertility your attitude will get better" kind of stuff. She also included the "don't talk to you brother and sister about all of this stuff because they get worried about you and then I hear about it. Some people just aren't supposed to have children and you need to get used to that idea." Yeah...there are times when I can have conversations with her about what's going on and she's super supportive, and then I get..."the talk". So, I'm not going to talk with her about stuff when I'm actually emotional anymore. I really am to the "matter-of-fact, shrug-it-off" stage of this struggle with infertility. Maybe because we have no money to go further medically and have no way to go forward with adoption/fostering, but I'm usually NOT weepy or crying anymore.
However, every now and then, a perfect storm of stuff happens to me and I get the gloomies. And I really want to be able to call my mom and just hear words of comfort, but that's not gonna happen, because then it means that I'm "having a fit" and "need to get off of my high horse". Sooo....no calls to family when I'm weepy. (And if you know my mom in real life and you tell her about this vent, I will have to hunt you down...OK, not really, but I need this blog to be a safe place to vent and telling her what I said totally undermines that, so keep this on the QT, OK?)
OK, that was a rabbit trail I wasn't planning on talking about, but I'm not going to delete it, because, well, it happened and I want to be honest on this site. I need to face things head-on, even things when I'm in a not-happy spot.
But the main purpose of this particular post, the one that explains the title is this: We're well on our way to reading through the Bible in 90 days. I am daily finding new ideas, new thoughts about the Old Testament that I hadn't ever thought of before.
ANYWAY, this morning our youth minister was leading our weekly teacher's devotional time this morning before school and he brought up something God had just hit him upside the head with---and to be honest, it was an upside-the-head moment for me, too. He said that God impressed upon him that many times our lives are like David's when he went to battle with Goliath. David was supposed to fight that battle. He had prepared for it by fighting the bear and the lion that had attacked his sheep. God had set aside that battle for David, not for anyone else. However, when he went to fight, he was waylaid by well-meaning people like the king of Israel, who insisted that David wear the king's armour. David was fighting the RIGHT BATTLE, the one appointed for him to fight, but if he had gone forward with someone else's armour, he wouldn't have had success, because it would have been the WRONG ARMOUR. Just as David had to hand back the wrong armour, we too need to make sure that we are 1) fighting the right battle, and 2) wearing the right armour.
How does this apply to my journey with infertility? I don't know right now. I need to meditate on this right now. I think it's going to involve lots of prayer, talks with the hubby, and discussions with the doctor. Check back with me in a few days..
Hopefully by then I'll be able to actually talk about it. I've had a wordless weekend due to laryngitis, and I'm hoping that it goes away soon. Have a blessed week, and remember that smiles go farther than frowns!
***Remember, feel free to comment---I won't bite, and I might even find a way to bless you, too***
First things first---after spending over 45 days with either spotting or heavy bleeding, I can finally say for 100% certain that my cycle of doom is FINALLY over. Where are the helium balloons, the streamers, the cake...? Now I'm on to a new adventure of a cycle--and I have no idea of what day I'm on, simply because I was counting how long it took to stop bleeding, not when to chart as the new cycle. Oh well, I'm just going to roll with it.
Secondly, I was surprised by something my mom did for me this weekend. I went over to her house to help her with some computer stuff, and she handed me a box with HCG pills in it. She watches Dr. Oz, and he had said that they're unsafe when you use them with that drastic diet plan, but that he often prescribed them for patients suffering with infertility. So my mom wrote down all of that information, and got me a month's supply. At this point, I don't think anything will hurt, so here I go for a month. It was just weird, because just two weeks ago, she was chewing me out over worrying about what was going on with my body. Massively chewing me out---as in "you should stop moping about this, the world doesn't revolve around you". "You're making a mountain out of a molehill...if you just stop thinking about infertility your attitude will get better" kind of stuff. She also included the "don't talk to you brother and sister about all of this stuff because they get worried about you and then I hear about it. Some people just aren't supposed to have children and you need to get used to that idea." Yeah...there are times when I can have conversations with her about what's going on and she's super supportive, and then I get..."the talk". So, I'm not going to talk with her about stuff when I'm actually emotional anymore. I really am to the "matter-of-fact, shrug-it-off" stage of this struggle with infertility. Maybe because we have no money to go further medically and have no way to go forward with adoption/fostering, but I'm usually NOT weepy or crying anymore.
However, every now and then, a perfect storm of stuff happens to me and I get the gloomies. And I really want to be able to call my mom and just hear words of comfort, but that's not gonna happen, because then it means that I'm "having a fit" and "need to get off of my high horse". Sooo....no calls to family when I'm weepy. (And if you know my mom in real life and you tell her about this vent, I will have to hunt you down...OK, not really, but I need this blog to be a safe place to vent and telling her what I said totally undermines that, so keep this on the QT, OK?)
OK, that was a rabbit trail I wasn't planning on talking about, but I'm not going to delete it, because, well, it happened and I want to be honest on this site. I need to face things head-on, even things when I'm in a not-happy spot.
But the main purpose of this particular post, the one that explains the title is this: We're well on our way to reading through the Bible in 90 days. I am daily finding new ideas, new thoughts about the Old Testament that I hadn't ever thought of before.
ANYWAY, this morning our youth minister was leading our weekly teacher's devotional time this morning before school and he brought up something God had just hit him upside the head with---and to be honest, it was an upside-the-head moment for me, too. He said that God impressed upon him that many times our lives are like David's when he went to battle with Goliath. David was supposed to fight that battle. He had prepared for it by fighting the bear and the lion that had attacked his sheep. God had set aside that battle for David, not for anyone else. However, when he went to fight, he was waylaid by well-meaning people like the king of Israel, who insisted that David wear the king's armour. David was fighting the RIGHT BATTLE, the one appointed for him to fight, but if he had gone forward with someone else's armour, he wouldn't have had success, because it would have been the WRONG ARMOUR. Just as David had to hand back the wrong armour, we too need to make sure that we are 1) fighting the right battle, and 2) wearing the right armour.
How does this apply to my journey with infertility? I don't know right now. I need to meditate on this right now. I think it's going to involve lots of prayer, talks with the hubby, and discussions with the doctor. Check back with me in a few days..
Hopefully by then I'll be able to actually talk about it. I've had a wordless weekend due to laryngitis, and I'm hoping that it goes away soon. Have a blessed week, and remember that smiles go farther than frowns!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Bible Challenge
Today our whole church started a new Bible challenge: to read through the entire Bible in 90 days. Just read, not fill out worksheets, or do in-depth studies, or link the Old to the New Testament, or... Just reading through the Bible. It comes out to about 12 pages a day. It doesn't seem too difficult, but I can tell you that as far as finding the time to do it, I'm pretty sure that "things" will come up that will try to sideline me from my goal. It seems that every time I'm working for the Lord, "things" happen in my life to knock the wind out of my sails.
However, I know that in this instance, I'm not alone. I'll have friends from my entire church working on the same goal. We'll be able to encourage each other and lift each other in prayer. I'm hoping it helps our church grow. I'm praying it will make me grow. I know I will be changed as a result of this challenge, and hope that it leads to me taking a more active role in studying my Bible.
I've already done today's lesson--Genesis 1:1-16:16. I found myself listening to my husband read (he's in radio, so he has a great voice) and was astonished to hear some things that I know I've read before, but had never really hit me. (Like tar pits in Israel--not a big detail, just one that I hadn't heard before) I'm already excited to begin tomorrow morning with a new lesson, even if I just get in a page before work. I'm thinking about having hubby record himself reading it out loud so that I can put it on my computer and just listen to the Word at any time.
I'm also hoping that this new-found motivation will work its way into my regular life. I need to begin to take my medication on a regular basis, work out on a daily basis, and start taking control of my PCOS, instead of just treading water with it. I have the best coach in the world, my hubby, who is wanting me to become the best me possible. Here's to a fresh start at the beginning of a new season!
However, I know that in this instance, I'm not alone. I'll have friends from my entire church working on the same goal. We'll be able to encourage each other and lift each other in prayer. I'm hoping it helps our church grow. I'm praying it will make me grow. I know I will be changed as a result of this challenge, and hope that it leads to me taking a more active role in studying my Bible.
I've already done today's lesson--Genesis 1:1-16:16. I found myself listening to my husband read (he's in radio, so he has a great voice) and was astonished to hear some things that I know I've read before, but had never really hit me. (Like tar pits in Israel--not a big detail, just one that I hadn't heard before) I'm already excited to begin tomorrow morning with a new lesson, even if I just get in a page before work. I'm thinking about having hubby record himself reading it out loud so that I can put it on my computer and just listen to the Word at any time.
I'm also hoping that this new-found motivation will work its way into my regular life. I need to begin to take my medication on a regular basis, work out on a daily basis, and start taking control of my PCOS, instead of just treading water with it. I have the best coach in the world, my hubby, who is wanting me to become the best me possible. Here's to a fresh start at the beginning of a new season!
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