A Little Higher Out of the Hole

I just finished re-reading Anne's House of Dreams (#5 of the Anne of Green Gable's saga).  In college, I found that L.M. Montgomery's books do my heart good - especially when it's hurting.  I remembered vaguely that Anne and Gilbert lost their first child too so I turned to the girl of bosom friends to see what one is to do in this situation.

I cried during the entire chapter.  Then Gilbert got her a housekeeper to do the cooking and cleaning while she recovered.  As if! And she bonded with the girl down the way who had previously thought her life too perfect to truly be friends (I think she missed that whole orphan, terrible life pre-Green Gables part).  And then she moved on.  At least it seems.

Toward the end of the book, Anne is talking with their good friend the lighthouse keeper.  Wouldn't you love to live in a world where you are BFF's with a lighthouse keeper?  He told Anne, who was worrying that her baby wouldn't know her in heaven that, "God would manage better than that my baby would seem a stranger to me when I found her Beyond."

So, my friend that's due the day before our due date?  I've kind of stunk it up in the friend department on that one.  And yet, in a way, her son will be a blessing.  It has hurt, watching her get bigger and bigger.  And yet, seeing her son grow up?  It will give me a little taste of how big our Michael would be.  When Anne talked about her daughter a year or so later, she said, "I've followed her development day by day and week by week--I always shall. I shall know just how she grows from year to year--and when I meet her again I'll know her--she won't be a stranger."

I don't know that I feel our little Michael will be a stranger - we ask him for prayers every night.  But having a little one to see grow up, although hard, will make it a lot easier to have a visual of our little beloved.

On a lighter note (and as if the bacon were not enough celebration) I made the Pioneer Woman's Carrot Cake yesterday for Frank's Birthday.  It's awesome!! It will be my go to recipe from now on!!

Climbing out of the hole

*Note - this post isn't an accusation.  It isn't a call for apology.  It's not even so much a cry for help.  You know that guck that gets stuck inside of you?  This is just me trying to get it out.  A cry for catharsis (which means the release of pity and fear)  May be not catharsis then but definitely that whole cleansing part.

After we miscarried in February I fell into a dark hole.  Then I found out at a party (Frank was at a bachelor party so I was solo) that one of our friends is due the day before we were.  It was somehow worse than finding out that my sil is pregnant the same day we found out we were miscarrying. I finally understood how someone could feel like they'd been punched in the stomach.  I fell deeper.  I ran out of the room, hid to cry and fled the party.  I opened the car windows and told myself to breath on the way home. Only to come home to an empty house and pint of chocolate ice cream (that wasn't even that good).

Frank pulled me out of it around my birthday.  He's pretty wonderful.

But there's something dark and sinister that keeps trying to pull me back in.  A photo with my best friend with all the babies - including ALL the preggos in the group.  And there's a lot of them.  One more rant about how "we cheated" and got pregnant.  One more discussion about how "if I remembered what pregnancy felt like, I wouldn't do this again."  One more facebook post about breast feeding in public or how parenting is so hard.  An unintentional blow off that the fact I hadn't needed to buy a pregnancy test wasn't a big deal.  One more dig that stings so much - and yet is just a normal part of life. 

I wish it didn't matter and that it didn't hurt.  And that all the baby talk and discussions about how "we'll probably get pregnant on our honeymoon" were just fine and dandy.  I know it's normal and I don't wish it away.  I just wish it didn't hurt.

Every month I tell myself to not hope too much.  That we are probably not.  But the hope is still there (as are the symptoms, thanks to progesterone supplements).  And the hope gets crushed.  And then I feel guilty - how do women do this month after month?  It's only been three and I can't even imagine.

I have to be careful what I wear.  Does that make me look pregnant?  The question hurts - I'll avoid it at all costs.  I have to be careful about what I dream and hope for.  In May, I hoped that I'd go back to school with news for my students and teacher friends.  That's not exactly looking as though it may be the case.

It's weird.  I look at the friend who's due at the same time we were.  I can't imagine myself that far along.  I even thought yesterday about how it may be a blessing to be able to see her little grow up - to be able to imagine our little Michael and how it may be comforting to know that they'd be the same age.

Then there's the weird paradigm shift.  I think it was last October when our NFP practitioner told us that we'd get pregnant on our honeymoon.  I'm the girl with the normal, 28 day cycles.  I'd predicted the same back before we'd even started charting in June.  So not only was I mentally prepping myself to get married, I was mentally prepping myself for the baby carriage too.  But now instead of the baby carriage and showers and cute little clothes (those ones I've dreamed of my whole life) there's a little grave and a little saint up in heaven that belongs to us.  That's a bit of a shift in dreams.

I've wondered if we should take a break for emotional sanity.  For one month off of the little ray's of hope and the fall deeper in the pit at the end of hope.  So God wasn't ready for us to have a baby - maybe that we aren't ready.  But six months ago I was willing to trust that he'd do what was best.  Now I have to ask myself if I still trust him.

The quote from my daily calendar is from Thomas Merton says that it is no use praying if we are already planning our own answer to prayer.  THIS is where I don't get NFP.  (And that whole trusting thing).   How do we trust and yet have so high a knowledge of what could happen?  I looked up "taking a break from trying to conceive" this morning.  A bunch of momma's who "took a break" only to wind up pregnant.  So much for that trying not to hope thing.

So.  There's a difference in these virtues of hope and trust.  That's probably where I need to start.  I have to trust that God knows what he's doing.  And that when it's our time, he'll make it our time.  In Hebrews 11:1 it says, "Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things unseen."  Help me have enough faith to trust in you - that if I trust, you will bring us hope "and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us."

Father - let me live in your love. Let your love give me faith to hope that your ways will not disappoint and that there is no need for this silly pit.

Snow days and normal

I officially feel like I don't have a job.  Let me list the full days of work I've worked in the past two weeks.

Monday - regular schedule
Tuesday - 1 hour activity schedule
Wednesday - All School Mass for Ash Wednesday then I left after lunch
Thursday - 1 hour activity schedule AND I left early
Friday - sick day
Monday - no school, presidents day
Tuesday - regular day
Wednesday - regular day with random field trips to the windows for snow checks.
Thursday - snow day for me AND the hubs
Friday - snow day - just for me (where I pretty much did school stuff at home)
Monday - another snow day.

In reality, I have had 3 regular school days in the past 2 weeks and one day . . . and I kind of miss my students.  And school.  And normal.  I'd really like normal.  I don't really know what normal is.  I went from dating (that was pretty normal and nice) to engaged (not normal or calm or low key whatsoever!!). Then I went from married and pregnant to married and not pregnant.

Yeah, those early/sick days?  We found out we had miscarried our little one (pretty sure we conceived on our wedding night) on Ash Wednesday and miscarried him on Valentines day.  Fun memories of our first V  day, huh?

I don't want to go into bitter diatribe on how awful this was or how bummed I am and that I don't understand.  Or go on about how when anyone mentions babies or sonograms I can hold it in for about 30 minutes but then in the comfort of only my husband I'll start crying again.  At least right now, I don't want to go into it.  I may in the future.

I am, however, kind of ready to figure out what our married normal is.  Because I've been craving normal and non-overwhelming.  (Pregnancy came with uncertainty and scary and worry and house shopping because I am TERRIFIED of going up and down our tiny one bedroom condo steps with a baby).  Plus all the after the wedding craziness of thank you notes and sorting and cleaning and such.  All in all, overwhelming stuff.

On our joint snow day, Frank and I got the house sorted.  It was awesome!  Until we went to pick up the rest of his stuff from his former roommate's house and it landed in our collective living room/dining room.

Even though once again we have stuff strewn everywhere, I am happy.  I couldn't have asked for a better, more supportive, prayerful Catholic husband.  While I was at home in pain, he was right there with me hooking us up with Warehouse 13 episodes on his computer.  And when I needed to cry, he was there.  When he needed to cry I got to be there too.  And when it was over and we needed to pray, he prayed just what I would have prayed if it were me.

So even if I don't have normal, I have God and I have Frank.  And that's the perfect beginning of normal.

I wonder if we'll have school tomorrow . . .