Sub-Fertile will not mean Sub-Joy

I went to the doctor Monday to see why our experience trying to conceive this time has been so much different than our last experience.  Last time it took us 2 tries to get pregnant, which I now have an even great appreciation for how quick this was.

The doctor has referred to me as “sub-fertile” possibly due to the fact that I have hyperthyroidism.  We will be doing tests this month and next to better understand what is going on. 

This may as well be the story of my life. 

In all things I have ever attempted, I have always come out “subpar.”  My soccer team in high school got to the state finals and lost the first round.  Consoling bystanders would offer sentiments like, “Well you should be happy, you made it this far!” 

 

I came up 1 point short of scholarship money for my ACT score, even after taking it three times. “Well, you should be happy, that’s still a great score!”  

My business as an artist has come to a screeching halt after being offered a licensing contract, only because I can’t afford the canvases, materials and shipping costs it would take to get the initial scanning for the catalogues. “Well, you should be happy, you were offered the contract!”  

So my dream of having a large family?  “Well, you should be happy, at least you have one child.”

I’m so tired of, “well you should be happy…”  No one would ever say, “Well you should be happy, you’re subpar!” 

At the same time I think, joy in life is mostly about comparison and it is my choice to decide to be happy or not.  If I compare myself to those close to me who have been the best at absolutely everything they have ever put their mind to, earned plenty of money and on top of all that have been blessed with easy pregnancies and many beautiful children. I will be unhappy.     

If I compare myself to those in Africa who have nothing, who are in war-torn countries just trying to survive, then I will be overwhelmed with the joy in my life. 

In my heart, I KNOW this is what I must do to keep Satan from stealing my joy.  The trick is actually doing what I know I should.  I pray I will not be “subpar” at being joyful.

Mommy Guilt Spelled Out

This blog post spells out exactly what I feel on a daily basis.

Friendly Fire

Snow Globes and Snow Days

There is a snow globe of New York City on our shelf in our living room.  It's next to our TV so I look at it very day.  (Yes.  I love to watch TV). The Chrysler Building, The Empire State Building, St Patrick's Cathedral, The Brooklyn Bridge and The Statue of Liberty are all squished nicely together in the peaceful glass dome.  Sometimes, I shake it and watch the tiny white flakes create a winterscape over the familiar skyline.  My husband is from New York City and when we decided to settle down south, a friend was sweet enough to give it to us for moments of nostalgia. 

When my husband and I were dating, and for the first few years of our marriage, we thought we might eventually move there and join many of our friends.  But then reality of taxes, square footage (or lack thereof) and rent made us look else where to settle down and start a family.

When I start to struggle with the pity party temptation, the snow globe always taunts me.  It's as if it symbolizes dreams that never came to fruition.  I see (thank you facebook) the houses, families, vacations and jobs that my friends have and I think..."what if I had..."; "if only we had..."; "why does everything seem to be so easy for them?"  Friends, (and family) that have seemingly fallen into amazing careers, amazing homes, tried for their babies for only one or two months...never seeming to struggle.  I often wonder, "what choices have I made that have made my life so much more difficult?"  Then I think of one of my favorite quotes from Theodore Roosevelt, "Comparison is the thief of joy." I know this is true.  I have a beautiful, healthy family, a home that is warm in winter and cool in summer, and a job.  Then I look at the snow globe.  I think of all the things I thought I would be able to do at this point in my life: take a vacation, go out to eat or get a Starbucks without feeling guilty, buy a second pair of jeans, save for my son's college, save...period.  But here I am, 30 next month, my baby is not a baby anymore and wants a sibling to play with, and I can't get myself a Starbucks or a sibling for my son.

Friday we got out of school for a snow day (with a grand total of 0.04" of snow that was gone by noon--thank you southern schools!).  The snow seemed to cover all the anxiety of the last week: my 10th negative pregnancy test, the car accident, the unexpected traffic fines, dreams that are not.  I was able to play in the snow with my son and forget about everything, like for once we were inside that peaceful snow globe.  Slowly, reality settles back in, like the snow melting outside.  But I have to fight the pity party that will surely follow...

"Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done."  Philippians 4:5-7

When it rains it pours Swiss Cake Rolls part 2

Feeling bloated from my Swiss Cake Roll stress eating Monday I woke up with a slightly more hopeful attitude Tuesday.  The usual thoughts entered my mind after an early HPT (home pregnancy test)..."maybe I tested too early," "there's still a chance."  Getting my hopes up has not served me well the past 9 months, but I can't control the optimist in me...."maybe this time." 

Tuesday 5am: "Not Pregnant"  Why do I do this to myself?

Tuesday 1:30pm: Did I mention I'm a teacher? Unlike my fellow colleagues in Wisconsin and elsewhere, I make less than $40K/year. Trying to pay down my student loans and my husband's student loans and our doctor bills, and our car bills, child care and now our credit card bills on that salary...forget about savings.

I couldn't pay a speeding ticket on time in April. I paid it late. But I paid it.  Unbeknownst to me, due to my failure to pay on time or appear in court (in a tiny town 4 hours away) my license had been suspended.  I know you don't know me, but I am a law abiding citizen, with the exception of having some what of a lead foot.  This is something I am genuinely trying to change. 

Nevertheless, the speed limit bested me again on Tuesday.  going 59 in what I thought was a 55 but turned out to be a 45.  To my humiliated shock and surprise the officer informed me that I was driving on a suspended license.  Que the tears.  The officer told me it was his job and he just couldn't let me leave with a suspended license.  I had to call my husband out of work, which pays him hourly, to come get me and take me home. 

Wednesday 8am: What stinks about being a teacher is when you have a craptstic couple of days, you can't hide in a cubicle and bury yourself in your work, you still have to smile in front of your students, try to help them cope with their craptastic day and attempt to teach them something through it all.  You also can't come in a couple of hours late after waiting at the department of safety to get your license renewed and work a couple of hours late to make up for it.  No, you have to take sick leave because they have to pay a sub. 

After 2 hours contemplating the inefficiency of this ridiculous department of government while waiting for them to call my number, I get to pay $140 to reinstate my license AND $20 for them to actually give me a new license. 

So much for paying anything off the credit card this month.

Wednesday 4pm: A sobering dose of perspective.  My sister calls to say our 34 year old friend has cancer.

Suddenly, my 10th negative pregnancy test, car accident, traffic fines, rising credit card debt and no hope of anything changing anytime soon, somehow doesn't seem as terrible. 

Nothing a Swiss Cake Roll and my Sugar can't fix.  At least for now.

 

When it rains it pours Swiss Cake Rolls part 1

When I get stressed out I crave comfort food.  I recently lost 23 pounds and part of my success was reminding myself that it will not help my stress to punish my body with sugar.  However, Monday I bought three boxes of Swiss Cake Rolls.  I knew I wouldn't eat them all myself; my husband (who I'll refer to as "Lindo") would eat the majority, but at 4pm Monday afternoon, I needed sugar. 

Monday 5am: I took my 10th negative pregnancy test.  We have been trying to have our second child for almost a year.  Our first son, I'll refer to him as "Sugar," only took 2 months to conceive.  I know we were very lucky and I keep hearing from everyone that 12 months is totally normal to try for a baby.  But Sugar came as a C-Section after 15 hours of labor and now I am worried, something is not right. 

Statistics do not help when you are in the midst of the "trying-to-conceive" roller coaster.  Planned sex, ovulation predictor tests, having sex even though one or both of you is sick, or when you're out of town, or when you have company...talk about killing the romance.  Then the two week wait.....no caffeine, no Advil, hopes raised....and then nothing.  The emptiness of that nothing is so real. 

I know I am luckier than others.  I have never lost a child.  I have never known that emptiness and I pray I never will.  And in the depths of the loss of what I never had, I still have Sugar's precious smile to bring me out of the pit.  I KNOW I am one of the lucky ones.  But looking at the "not pregnant" glaring at me, it still hurts.

Monday 8:30am: My husband, Lindo, calls to say he has been sideswiped by a semi truck.  Thankfully he is okay, but the car is not.  In the summer, Lindo quit his job to go back to get his accounting degree.  He has a part time paid internship that basically means we are not quite breaking even every month once you subtract child care and gas.  We have all been sick over the past 3 months and the bills are stacked up.  After we ran out of savings our credit card is getting dangerously out of control due to cars needing batteries, tires, valves, etc and our doctor bills.  Now we get to pay for a new door on the car, unless by some miracle the state decides to declare the truck responsible.

Made it home.  Hugged my Sugar and my Lindo.  Ate Swiss Cake Rolls. 

Being Odelia

My life has become stressful recently.  It is not the stress of those who have suffered great loss or of those enduring severe hardship. 

The stress of my life has been brought on because I refuse to BE STILL.  "Be still and know I AM GOD."  PS 46:10.  Why can't I follow those simple instructions? 

The decision to start blogging is one I thought about for a long time.  It is not due to my overwhelming ability to communicate in the written word or because I have all the answers in life.  The opposite is true on both counts.  I needed to force myself out of a pity party and begin living up to my name, Odelia, which means "I will praise God."  If my mediocre struggles can be relatable to even one other person, maybe we can lean on each other.

So, I will attempt to listen to God one day at a time.

When I want what others have.  BE STILL.
When all the smallest, petty annoyances seem to become larger than life. BE STILL.
When I cry out to God to answer the desires of my heart. BE STILL.
When God says no.  BE STILL.