A Fitting Tribute

As you know, I've been struggling with a way to physically memorialize the daughter I lost.  I'm still going to put in a flower bed this year just for her memory, but that's provided that it stops raining long enough to dry things up enough to till the soil...but I'm thankful for the rain, because it's God's way of cleansing spring.  I just wish it hadn't rained for 20 of the last 30 days!

Anyway...I've been following this blog:  http://namesinthesand.blogspot.com/  for some time now, hoping against hope that I could send in Elizabeth's name.  I always managed to visit the site when the request list was closed, but finally got in last week.  Today I visited, and there it was, such a gorgeous picture, loving made, with her name written in the sand.  The lady who started this has herself lost a child, and has created a ministry from that loss--she lives in Australia by a white sand beach and every week she takes that list of names and writes those childrens' names in the sand.  She then takes a picture of name, sand, sea, and sunset for the family to remind them that each life matters--no matter how long it was on this Earth. 

This is the closest thing I have to a Mother's Day card.  It's the closest thing to it that I'll ever have from my daughter.  I'm going to print it out and frame it and put it on the wall.  It will come with us no matter where we move, and it will serve as a reminder that once upon a time, I was a mom, for a fleeting moment, to a beautiful daughter.  That seems to be a fitting tribute.  And one day in heaven, where I'm sure we'll see a comprable view, Elizabeth can show me how she can write her own name in the sand.

Random Thoughts In My Head

Sooooo...Yesterday was a really, really, really hard day, and nothing made it better except for the fact that I took a three-hour nap and then went to bed an hour and a half earlier.  I honor my mom and grandma on Mother's Day, as well as my sister and sister-in-law, but other than that, I would be perfectly fine without a whole day whose purpose seems to be to point out the fact that I'm NOT a mom.  I know that just about every woman struggling with infertility thinks that, and to be honest, most people who easily have children don't understand exactly how deep the hurt is.

Six years ago, I began making corsages for the ladies in my church.  It was my way of honoring the moms around me.  Six years ago I was mourning on Mother's Day for a different reason--I was 26 with no husband in sight--I had no chance of being a mom because of that, and so I threw myself into it to keep from being uber-depressed.  I also noticed that moms don't wear corsages anymore--that was a given when I was growing up, and I thought it was sad that the tradition had kind of gone by the wayside.  Plus the Ag teacher at my school always hadthe 8th graders make their own and he showed me how it was done.  I wanted to use my new skills to help others.

Fast forward three years.  I was at a new church, and had just lost my first and only child.  I made those flowers to keep from bawling all day long.  Each corsage reminded me that I wasn't a mom, but yet it was cathartic because I could impart some of my love for Elizabeth in each flower.  It was more of a "I've started this as a ministry and have to keep doing it," than any sort of memorializing action.  This year I made 108 of them for family and church moms.

This was the one I made for my Grandma!

It has morphed back into a ministry, but it's still a reminder that this is my third year as a married woman, and the third Mother's Day I'm still not a mom...ugh. 

And in other news involving my LOVELY body, I still haven't started my new cycle.  I was so excited about getting that soy and getting to use it, and here I am, Day 30, with no ovulation in sight, which means no way in heck I could be pregnant, which means that I'm royally ticked at my body.  I haven't had a cycle this long in YEARS.  On days like today, I absolutely HATE PCOS.  Every time I think I've got it under control, or at least am on an even keel, something happens that just tips me over.  To top it off, thanks to PCOS, I still have all of those "lovely" early pregnancy  symptoms--faint nausea, sore you-know-whats, extremely weepy,...etc.  I have had long cycles in the past, none longer than 48 days, but it's just frustrating, because...what if it's not the PCOS?  What if I'm more of the family freak than I know and its early onset menopause?  Or cancer? Or some weird disease?  I mean,  (as I get reminded all too often) I AM 32, almost 33, and those eggs are getting stale and moldy.

I guess that I just need to try to regroup.  I sat in church yesterday, trying to hold back the tears, and felt that maybe it was time to say goodbye to motherhood.  I don't want to, but I've been trying for what seems like an eternity and it gets harder every time I see a friend or family member cooing over their new addition. 

What slammed into me like a brick wall was this:  I sent a dozen corsages with the men serving communion at the nursing home.  They handed them out to the ladies there who were mothers.  I know that someday I will be that elderly lady in the nursing home.  Who will come visit me?  I realize that sounds incredibly selfish, but I don't want to be old and lonely--and with my need to serve others that probably won't happen, but that's what floored me yesterday.

OK, enough brooding.  I've got a great day ahead of me at school, and then I get to spend the night at home.  That's good enough for today.