So I've spent this week getting ready to start a new year of school as a Paraprofessional in a new building, doing new things, and learning new stuff. Just so you know, it's not just kids who get the jitters about being the new kid in school. :o)
When I first started teaching 11 years ago, I felt called to teach middle schoolers. They were still young enough to be excited about learning, challenging enough to keep you on your toes, stubborn enough to need more than "because I said so", and old enough to grasp sarcasm--my native tongue! As the years progressed, I moved more towards elementary, and if I ever teach again, I'm going to concentrate on the little guys. I felt my calling had changed--it just broke my heart to see the middle schoolers losing that "little kid-ness" and becoming hardened individuals before they hit age 11 or 12. Doing drugs, sleeping around, getting pregnant,...and I know it's a sign of the moral shift away from absolutes, but that kind of stuff wasn't supposed to happen to "my kids".
Then when I was crying out to God for a job, when all else was lost, I took on a job last year as a Paraprofessional for middle school math. And loved it. I found my zeal for the middle schoolers again. I had been renewed, and began looking for something similar (OK, I was looking for a teaching position, but this one offered me a job first--before I had even started the interview!), and this job opened up.
I started officially on Monday. When I was hired, I was going to be a Special Education Paraprofessional for High School Job Skills Students. (Nifty title, huh!) When I arrived at my first meeting, I got told that I was still hired, but that I would be moved to the elementary. I was OK with that. So, I went to my meetings, looked over the IEP data for my assigned elementary students (very low functioning), and started getting together a schedule. When I arrived on Tuesday, I went to two elementary meetings and then got told by the Special Ed. director that where I was REALLY needed was with the lower functioning Middle Schoolers. So I went to the middle school special ed. teacher who teaches the low functioning students and we made out a schedule of when I would be doing push-in with regular teachers, and when I would be doing work in her room. I shredded the elementary stuff and re-organized my "first day of school" bag. Then, as I showed up this morning for my training meeting, the director told me that she thought I would eventually end up in the middle school, but that for the first week, I would be working at the high school with the low functioning students up there. So, once again, back up to the high school. I met all of the teachers I would be coordinating with, wrote down ANOTHER new schedule, and then was getting ready to leave for the day when the director called my new cooperating teacher. We had a new student enroll in the middle school who had such severe disabilities that a full-time aide HAD to be assigned starting tomorrow. So, I guess this is all to say that I go in tomorrow, the first day of school, to start assisting a very special student that I have never met, don't know how much assistance he/she needs, have no idea about how much physical support to offer, and don't know if I will need to utilize what sign language I know to communicate with the student.
What I have learned:
1. I am "technically" in violation of our confidentiality policy, since I have seen the IEP's of
students I'm not working with. (although when I saw them, I WAS going to be working with
them)!
2. I am apparently really good at being FLEXIBLE!
3. They trust me enough to let me work with the lowest-functioning students.
4. I will be expected to know how to handle students with varying abliities--and I do, just not
on a 1-to-1 basis. I'm going to be learning a lot, and learning it quickly!
So, I guess I'll find out about my job as I go. Here's to a great school year and the hope that this turns into a teaching job sometime in the future!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Happy Birthday to Me?
Well, today is the day that I turn 33. Unlike most women, I absolutely adore my birthday. I even still celebrate my half birthday! (Although I will admit it's more because it's a heck of a lot cooler in February than in August) I got to have a family birthday party last night and am looking forward to another one with the in-laws in another couple of weeks. Since it's so hot, I'm thinking that just celebrating my birthday the entire month might be OK so that we can pick the one day the temperatures are under 90 degrees and then go to the zoo that day!
Today the hubby is taking me to the Ozark Empire Fair--compliments of the press pass we got since he works for a radio station, out to dinner where the wait staff will sing to me, and then cap off the evening with a movie at the $2.00 theatre. Call me a cheap date if you want, but I can have fun for a tiny amount of money!
The only time I wish I didn't love my birthday is when it comes to our childless state. I really would like to stay 28 until I had my first child, then age after that. Urgh. I see all of my high school and college friends/collegues on facebook sharing pictures of their families, and realize that I AM old enough to be the mom of a high schooler. Many of my high school friends were finished with their families by our ten-year reunion, and most of my college friends are on child 2-5 right now. There are many days I wish I was in their shoes. I knew I would be an older mother, since I didn't get married until four weeks before my 30th birthday, but I really thought I'd have one and maybe be expecting #2 by now.
That's really the only thing that really stinks, and God knows I think it stinks. I let Him know frequently, and try not to whine about it all the time. I can't stand whininess, so I try to not whine to Him. I do, however, repeatedly plead my case before His throne. There are days when I can see how His timing is best, but then there are many more days when I just stew about why my life (while admittedly NOT crummy) isn't filled with the joyful laughter of my own children.
But that's enough stewing today. I hope that by the time I write this post in a year I will have different things to stew about. Here are my hopes for when I turn 34:
1. I hope I'm pregnant/a new mom/in the process of becoming a foster/adoptive mom.
2. I hope I am healthy and have my PCOS under control.
3. I hope I've lost 60-80 pounds.
4. I hope both my husband and I have good full-time jobs so we can qualify for #1.
5. I hope that we can move to the community we attend church in.
6. I hope my relationship with my husband grows deeper and fuller.
7. I hope my relationship with God grows fuller and deeper as well.
8. I hope I can be more than just a "fun" aunt to my nieces and nephews, but also be a
listening ear and a Christian example for them.
9. I hope that I can say I've had a positive impact on the students I work with.
I hope...and pray...and as my brother-in-law said last night, "Dear Lord, we thank you for this year, we thank you for the birthdays we celebrate tonight, and we ask that this next year be better than the past one." I would like to add "Pleeeeeeeeesssssseeee Lord, let this next year be better--I think two years of yuckiness (and yes I know You've taught me things, and they haven't been yucky all the time, but...) has earned me a happy year. So pleeeeaaasssee, let this year be better than last." Amen. (and amen)
Today the hubby is taking me to the Ozark Empire Fair--compliments of the press pass we got since he works for a radio station, out to dinner where the wait staff will sing to me, and then cap off the evening with a movie at the $2.00 theatre. Call me a cheap date if you want, but I can have fun for a tiny amount of money!
The only time I wish I didn't love my birthday is when it comes to our childless state. I really would like to stay 28 until I had my first child, then age after that. Urgh. I see all of my high school and college friends/collegues on facebook sharing pictures of their families, and realize that I AM old enough to be the mom of a high schooler. Many of my high school friends were finished with their families by our ten-year reunion, and most of my college friends are on child 2-5 right now. There are many days I wish I was in their shoes. I knew I would be an older mother, since I didn't get married until four weeks before my 30th birthday, but I really thought I'd have one and maybe be expecting #2 by now.
That's really the only thing that really stinks, and God knows I think it stinks. I let Him know frequently, and try not to whine about it all the time. I can't stand whininess, so I try to not whine to Him. I do, however, repeatedly plead my case before His throne. There are days when I can see how His timing is best, but then there are many more days when I just stew about why my life (while admittedly NOT crummy) isn't filled with the joyful laughter of my own children.
But that's enough stewing today. I hope that by the time I write this post in a year I will have different things to stew about. Here are my hopes for when I turn 34:
1. I hope I'm pregnant/a new mom/in the process of becoming a foster/adoptive mom.
2. I hope I am healthy and have my PCOS under control.
3. I hope I've lost 60-80 pounds.
4. I hope both my husband and I have good full-time jobs so we can qualify for #1.
5. I hope that we can move to the community we attend church in.
6. I hope my relationship with my husband grows deeper and fuller.
7. I hope my relationship with God grows fuller and deeper as well.
8. I hope I can be more than just a "fun" aunt to my nieces and nephews, but also be a
listening ear and a Christian example for them.
9. I hope that I can say I've had a positive impact on the students I work with.
I hope...and pray...and as my brother-in-law said last night, "Dear Lord, we thank you for this year, we thank you for the birthdays we celebrate tonight, and we ask that this next year be better than the past one." I would like to add "Pleeeeeeeeesssssseeee Lord, let this next year be better--I think two years of yuckiness (and yes I know You've taught me things, and they haven't been yucky all the time, but...) has earned me a happy year. So pleeeeaaasssee, let this year be better than last." Amen. (and amen)
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Just In Case You Ever Wondered...
In case you've ever wondered what it's like to walk a mile in my shoes...here's a video that sums up my emotions quite nicely. And no, I'm not like this every day, but I've heard of 10 new pregnancy announcements from friends and family in the last 3 weeks, and while I'm happy for all of them, there's this feeling of being left in the dust while everyone else gets to see their dreams come true. And I guess I'm also worried that when I finally get in to see the specialist this fall, he'll tell me that I'm too fat to be a mom, or too old, or that I'm a hopeless case. I just really, really like my current doctor, and I don't know about a guy doctor--especially one who doesn't know me. Anyway, here's the video, and no it's not directed at anyone--I really am happy for those of you expecting--it's just that I'm sad that it's not me at the same time---I really think that those of us suffering from infertility lead dual lives with multiple personalities. I feel like two people most of the time, happy yet sad, hopeful and hopeless, ready to meet things head-on while still wanting to hide behind a rock...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4nFFGCbR18&feature=player_embedded
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4nFFGCbR18&feature=player_embedded
Monday, July 25, 2011
Telling My Least Favorite Bible Story--HELP!!
This week I'm teaching Vacation Bible School at my church. Who am I kidding? I'm not just teaching it, I'm adoring it! My two favorite things: preschool kids and teaching. What's not to love? I've got all these great ideas, and I'm full of ideas since I haven't been teaching for a year...
Anyway, it's going wonderfully except for one teensy, tiny, itsy-bitsy thing...the story for the final night of VBS.
It's the story of Hannah, and the theme of the night for the preschool is "God gives us good gifts." Ugh. I know God gives good gifts, but couldn't we have expressed that thought with another story?
All of my helpers are moms or grandmas, and while I don't know their personal stories, its going to be hard to tell the story with them in there. Why you ask? Well because the story of Hannah goes like this: Hannah was married to a guy named Elkannah. She was his most-loved wife, but he had another wife who was exceedingly fertile, who had borne him many children. Hannah had none. Zero, zippo, nada. Wife #2 apparently had scads of free time, because she spent every waking moment reminding Hannah of her status as an infertile--and insinuated that Hannah was not "woman enough" or "religious enough" to be blessed as a mom. Her husband, because he knew she was being treated wrongly, loved Hannah all the more tenderly.
Hannah wept bitterly, and I'm sure she often questioned God in her prayers. Finally, during a trip to the temple during one of the holy festivals of the year, Hannah breaks down in prayer during a private visit in the temple. She is crying and praying silently,(because even then infertility was the "taboo" subject) when the priest sees her. His first thought is to shoo her out of the temple because she wasn't praying aloud--he thought she was soused--but then he asked her what the matter was. When she explained her heart's desire, the priest assured her that God had heard her prayer, and that anyone as devoted as she would have their prayers answered. Her prayer was that if she had a child, she would give him back to God. Sure enough, by the next year, she had her baby. Three years later, she came back and gave her son, Samuel, back to the temple in the service of the priest. Impressed by her faithfulness, the priest blessed her and her husband, and later Hannah ended up with 3 more sons and 2 daughters. Samuel went on to some really awesome stuff, and there are two whole books in the Bible about his life.
It really is a wonderful story, and some days it does give me hope as an infertile woman. My problem this week is that it seems that they want the story presented as "If you pray for something hard enough, it will be given to you." I don't want to give my itty-bitties false hope, don't want to be that bitter, "God doesn't always give us stuff" person, and don't want to just start bawling in the middle of the story. I don't want to mess them up. I know they're just 2-5, but I worry that telling them something that's not a complete truth will end up being a stumbling block later on in life.
So here's my plea...how would you tell the story? The theme "God gives us good gifts," is true, but what about the fact that He doesn't always give us everything we pray for? How can I show my kids something to make the story "stick" ?
On a personal note, how do you as an infertile woman deal with people who quickly bring up this story as the be-all, end-all to point out that if you were just religious enough, or prayed harder, that God would suddenly bless you with six children, and the reason you're not a mom is because you're "just not Godly enough"? I've not dealt with a lot of women like that, but have had it dragged up by family memers (not close ones) and some older women who have never heard of PCOS.
I know this has been a long post, but I really would like a lot of input, please. Thanks!
Anyway, it's going wonderfully except for one teensy, tiny, itsy-bitsy thing...the story for the final night of VBS.
It's the story of Hannah, and the theme of the night for the preschool is "God gives us good gifts." Ugh. I know God gives good gifts, but couldn't we have expressed that thought with another story?
All of my helpers are moms or grandmas, and while I don't know their personal stories, its going to be hard to tell the story with them in there. Why you ask? Well because the story of Hannah goes like this: Hannah was married to a guy named Elkannah. She was his most-loved wife, but he had another wife who was exceedingly fertile, who had borne him many children. Hannah had none. Zero, zippo, nada. Wife #2 apparently had scads of free time, because she spent every waking moment reminding Hannah of her status as an infertile--and insinuated that Hannah was not "woman enough" or "religious enough" to be blessed as a mom. Her husband, because he knew she was being treated wrongly, loved Hannah all the more tenderly.
Hannah wept bitterly, and I'm sure she often questioned God in her prayers. Finally, during a trip to the temple during one of the holy festivals of the year, Hannah breaks down in prayer during a private visit in the temple. She is crying and praying silently,(because even then infertility was the "taboo" subject) when the priest sees her. His first thought is to shoo her out of the temple because she wasn't praying aloud--he thought she was soused--but then he asked her what the matter was. When she explained her heart's desire, the priest assured her that God had heard her prayer, and that anyone as devoted as she would have their prayers answered. Her prayer was that if she had a child, she would give him back to God. Sure enough, by the next year, she had her baby. Three years later, she came back and gave her son, Samuel, back to the temple in the service of the priest. Impressed by her faithfulness, the priest blessed her and her husband, and later Hannah ended up with 3 more sons and 2 daughters. Samuel went on to some really awesome stuff, and there are two whole books in the Bible about his life.
It really is a wonderful story, and some days it does give me hope as an infertile woman. My problem this week is that it seems that they want the story presented as "If you pray for something hard enough, it will be given to you." I don't want to give my itty-bitties false hope, don't want to be that bitter, "God doesn't always give us stuff" person, and don't want to just start bawling in the middle of the story. I don't want to mess them up. I know they're just 2-5, but I worry that telling them something that's not a complete truth will end up being a stumbling block later on in life.
So here's my plea...how would you tell the story? The theme "God gives us good gifts," is true, but what about the fact that He doesn't always give us everything we pray for? How can I show my kids something to make the story "stick" ?
On a personal note, how do you as an infertile woman deal with people who quickly bring up this story as the be-all, end-all to point out that if you were just religious enough, or prayed harder, that God would suddenly bless you with six children, and the reason you're not a mom is because you're "just not Godly enough"? I've not dealt with a lot of women like that, but have had it dragged up by family memers (not close ones) and some older women who have never heard of PCOS.
I know this has been a long post, but I really would like a lot of input, please. Thanks!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
MIA...But not on purpose
Boy, a lot can happen in two months, especially when you live in Missouri. Ididn't intend to leave my blog unused for so long, but life has happened to my family at such a rapid pace, I just haven't had the time to sit down and compose anything. When I last left you, I was trying to put in a memorial flower garden for the daughter we lost in utero two years ago. That project has also been placed on the back burner with everything else because of what's gone on. I promise that from here on out I'm going to more regularly update the blog, even if life gets in the way. But, so that you can see I'm not joshing you about the hecticness of my life, here's what happened while I was away:
May 14th--Last blog post. Spent the day and most of the next week working and picking strawberries out of my giant strawberry bed.
May 22--Out picking strawberries, trying to beat the coming storm, when I get a call that my sister and her family have just survived a tornado that hit Joplin.
May 23-27--Trying to get things organized and get plastic bins bought so that we can salvage as much as possible from my sister's house. Find out that I lost 3 friends in that tornado.
May 28-30--Memorial Day weekend--Cleaned out my sister's house--saved about 90% of their belongings, but most things that were in their garage are gone---saw all of the places I used to shop at, work at, visit often--and they were all gone, some completely. I saw how God protected my sister and her family--the room they were in was spared by six inches--God is good.
June 1--My sister has her baby. All my worries about getting to hold my new nephew went out the window with all that had happened before. We almost lost my sister in the delivery, though. Doctors believed that it was delayed shock from the tornado--but she and the baby are doing fine.
June 9--I go to the house my sister is staying in temporarily and get to babysit the boys--boy was that torture (not!!!). I've gotten to spend more time with both boys since #2's birth than I was allowed to spend with #1 the first year of his life. Of course a lot of that had to do with the fact that they were needing to take care of insurance stuff and trying to find a new house.
June 11---My period FINALLY started. It was a 64-day cycle, the longest one I'd ever had in my life. I'm worried that it could be early-onset menopause, because, you know, I'd have no luck at all if it wasn't for bad luck.
June 12--We had to put my cat down. He had been with me since I lived in that house in Joplin, and was my constant companion and a good mouser. It broke my heart to have to do it, and I still miss him.
June 13--Babysitting the boys again. My husband has decided that Christmas is too long to wait for a new kitten for me--he's decided I'm getting one for my birthday in August, but while he's on the porch talking to me over the phone, a VERY bedraggled, flea-bitten, rib-showing, tiny kitten stumbles into our yard. God knew I needed something to keep me entertained--after a LONG bath and an hour picking off and killing fleas, he looked adorable--we named him Greyson.
June 17-24--I'm doing Missouri Girls State, where I'm the music director. Camp is a blast, except for the total lack of sleep involved!
June 30-July 2--Moving my sister and her family into their new home. Of course it was the hottest day to date for that move :) I discovered my new favorite cleaner---Bon Ami---it cleaned all of their appliances that had taken the brunt of the tornado's wind and debris so it looked like they'd gotten a new stove and fridge. Now I can't find any of that miracle stuff for my house (of course, because if I didn't have bad luck...)
This last weekend, we spent a vacation/anniversary trip/needing to get away from it all/HAD to go see the niece trip in OK City visiting my brother and his family. Got lots of photos of the niece, got to go to a wild animal refuge and pet baby white tigers, toured the bombing museum and memorial, and then saw Green Lantern on the way home as a anniversary present to my husband.
Whew!! It makes me tired just writing about it. In the middle of all of that, I lost at least half of my strawberry crop due to not being home to pick, went and had my annual "well-woman" exam and found out I'm going to have to see a specialist to do anything like Clomid or Femara, and that due to not being able to take my Metformin regularly, I had gained 20 pounds--(back to the no luck but bad luck)--I've even been eating better and don't eat as much anymore (I hate you, PCOS!).
But I start my new job in two weeks, get insurance again in six weeks, and will finally be able to get back to seeing if I can become a mom before I'm 90 like Sarah in the Bible.
That's been my two months in a nutshell...can anyone top that?
May 14th--Last blog post. Spent the day and most of the next week working and picking strawberries out of my giant strawberry bed.
May 22--Out picking strawberries, trying to beat the coming storm, when I get a call that my sister and her family have just survived a tornado that hit Joplin.
May 23-27--Trying to get things organized and get plastic bins bought so that we can salvage as much as possible from my sister's house. Find out that I lost 3 friends in that tornado.
May 28-30--Memorial Day weekend--Cleaned out my sister's house--saved about 90% of their belongings, but most things that were in their garage are gone---saw all of the places I used to shop at, work at, visit often--and they were all gone, some completely. I saw how God protected my sister and her family--the room they were in was spared by six inches--God is good.
June 1--My sister has her baby. All my worries about getting to hold my new nephew went out the window with all that had happened before. We almost lost my sister in the delivery, though. Doctors believed that it was delayed shock from the tornado--but she and the baby are doing fine.
June 9--I go to the house my sister is staying in temporarily and get to babysit the boys--boy was that torture (not!!!). I've gotten to spend more time with both boys since #2's birth than I was allowed to spend with #1 the first year of his life. Of course a lot of that had to do with the fact that they were needing to take care of insurance stuff and trying to find a new house.
June 11---My period FINALLY started. It was a 64-day cycle, the longest one I'd ever had in my life. I'm worried that it could be early-onset menopause, because, you know, I'd have no luck at all if it wasn't for bad luck.
June 12--We had to put my cat down. He had been with me since I lived in that house in Joplin, and was my constant companion and a good mouser. It broke my heart to have to do it, and I still miss him.
June 13--Babysitting the boys again. My husband has decided that Christmas is too long to wait for a new kitten for me--he's decided I'm getting one for my birthday in August, but while he's on the porch talking to me over the phone, a VERY bedraggled, flea-bitten, rib-showing, tiny kitten stumbles into our yard. God knew I needed something to keep me entertained--after a LONG bath and an hour picking off and killing fleas, he looked adorable--we named him Greyson.
June 17-24--I'm doing Missouri Girls State, where I'm the music director. Camp is a blast, except for the total lack of sleep involved!
June 30-July 2--Moving my sister and her family into their new home. Of course it was the hottest day to date for that move :) I discovered my new favorite cleaner---Bon Ami---it cleaned all of their appliances that had taken the brunt of the tornado's wind and debris so it looked like they'd gotten a new stove and fridge. Now I can't find any of that miracle stuff for my house (of course, because if I didn't have bad luck...)
This last weekend, we spent a vacation/anniversary trip/needing to get away from it all/HAD to go see the niece trip in OK City visiting my brother and his family. Got lots of photos of the niece, got to go to a wild animal refuge and pet baby white tigers, toured the bombing museum and memorial, and then saw Green Lantern on the way home as a anniversary present to my husband.
Whew!! It makes me tired just writing about it. In the middle of all of that, I lost at least half of my strawberry crop due to not being home to pick, went and had my annual "well-woman" exam and found out I'm going to have to see a specialist to do anything like Clomid or Femara, and that due to not being able to take my Metformin regularly, I had gained 20 pounds--(back to the no luck but bad luck)--I've even been eating better and don't eat as much anymore (I hate you, PCOS!).
But I start my new job in two weeks, get insurance again in six weeks, and will finally be able to get back to seeing if I can become a mom before I'm 90 like Sarah in the Bible.
That's been my two months in a nutshell...can anyone top that?
Saturday, May 14, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, May 9, 2011
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.
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.
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