ICLW Week

Hello Everyone! Happy ICLW week.

Welcome to my blog. You will see that some of the posts from the last two months have consisted of a lot of gloom and drama. I'm not going to lie, the end of September and all throughout October, life in my little corner sucked, so most of the recent posts reflect how I dealt with the aftermath of the suckiness of a failed adoption, and the grief that followed, (it felt like another miscarriage).

The highlight of November so far is that The Hubsand and I moved to a newly remodeled apartment. Its very nice with its all tiled floors, crown molding, recessed doors, granite counter tops, sunshine in the living room from morning to afternoon, microwave above the stove, new dishwasher, and plush carpeted bedrooms. (Did I just get excited about crown molding?)

I'm still unpacking, so we will see how much I like this new apartment when I can't fit all my junk stuff in the space that I am given.

Our cat, Jack seems to like the new place, though he camped out in the guest bathroom for the first four days we were here. He seems to have rediscovered the sun and he likes it...a lot.

I hope to get to know many of you this week.

<=== If you would like to read a brief history of our IF journey, you can read it on the left.

What my dreams tell me...or Don't tell me (Dreams Part deux)

I sometimes have this recurring nightmare/dream where I'm somewhere and I need Michael, but I can't find him. I can't call him, text him...nothing. Its like he vanished off the face of the earth. Usually in the dream I'm looking for him for answers to something, some problem or challenge that we are facing. But I can't find him to help me get out of it.

In these dreams, when I'm looking for him and can't find him, I panic, to the point of crying hysterically until I remember that its just a dream. If I need him I can wake up and he is either right there next to me in bed, in the other room, or just a phone call away.

I don't have these dreams often, usually only when we are facing something life changing like the decision to stop treatment and trying and pursue adoption, or struggling with the aftermath of a failed adoption.

Its these dreams that remind me, as much as Michael is my support, ally and teammate in this journey - I can't make him my stronghold, my refuge, my hiding place in times of peril, because that is God's job. Its the shelter of His wings that I need to find refuge, not my husband. I think that is especially why I can't find Michael in those dreams when I need him - I'm relying on the wrong person for strength.

This is when I'm reminded that God uses dreams to help us see things clearer than we would if we were awake.

There is another dream I have sometimes, its of me and I'm pregnant. I can feel the baby move. I can feel the roundness of my belly and I'm so happy...and then I wake up and realize that I'm not pregnant, nor am I close to ever being pregnant. Reality hits that it was just a dream and I'm heartbroken and mad at God for giving me that dream.

There are others, sometimes I'm not pregnant, but caring for a baby, and I can feel the small weight of a baby in my arms...and then I wake up and my arms are empty and my heart is aching. I had even become so bold as to ask God not to give me these dreams as they were too painful to endure. And just to make sure that I didn't dream, I would purposefully wait to go to bed until I was thoroughly exhausted in the hope that I'd be too tired to dream. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn't, especially on nights when despite my body's fatigue, my brain was very much still active.

But what if I've had it wrong this entire time? What if these dreams that God has given me are promises and not tortureous dreams of longing lifestyle?

I told Michael about the pregnancy/baby dreams for the first time last Sunday. He told me not to discount them. I told him that it wasn't so much the pain of the dreams themselves as much as it was the pain of waking up and realizing it was 'just a dream'.

I'm sure God knows what he is doing by giving me these dreams; even if I don't know what He means by giving them to me. Maybe to remind me not to give up?

Michael is right, I shouldn't discount them. I might be throwing away promises God has for me...for us.

Learning to Dream again...

...is the title of the new series our Pastor is teaching at church.

I'm not going to lie, my first reaction to reading the topic title brought out a cynical side of me I try to closet away while at church.

But the cynical voice wouldn't shut up. Before his sermon even started, all I kep hearing in my head was, "Dreams are dangerous. They crumble to dust and have to be mourned."

Not really something one wants floating around in their brain before church, but when you've had to go through eleven months of therapy to mourn the dream of having your own children and grieve the losses that come with infertilty, and now a failed adoption - the concept of dreams or dreaming is useless, tiring and painful.

I'm sure I failed to listen at the most important parts of the sermon, because I couldn't hear them over my brain saying, "But you don't understand what dreaming has cost me, so why would I want to continue to dream?"

Its not like my dream is an impossible dream. Its tangible (sure, I just lack working ovaries, one tube and balanced hormones), but I don't think my dream is all that complicated.  Its very simple.  I just want a baby in my arms. I want to be a mother. I want to be happy. And I've done everything I can to accomplish this dream.

I charted my cycles, saw an RE, did treatments. Got pregnant twice, miscarried twice. When treatments failed we decided to pursue adoption. We found an agency, had a homestudy, waitied, got matched, match failed. Now we are waiting again.

I've done all this and still nothing but tears and heartache. This is what dreaming has cost me.

As cynical as I can be about the concept of dreaming, maybe I'm blaming the wrong person for them not coming true. Its easy to blame God, or myself, for this dream not coming true. Because really who else is there to blame? I can blame infertility, but whose to blame for why I am infertile?

I don't want to sound like a bitter believer, but I'd by lying if I said that part of me doesn't blame God. I know that is a horrible thing to say. But God understands, and I don't constantly blame Him for everything.

I know God has chosen a particular path for us, and I know that I'll never understand why He chose for us to walk this bumpy, and painful road of infertility. And in my heart of hearts I wish He'd have chosen another couple, because this journey sucks.

I'm tired of having my dreams crushed and having to mourn them, so learning to dream again is going to be a challenge.