Simul Justus et Peccator Shilly-Shally

Aunt Flo’s Christmas gift (of herself), this expensive little shit, and being angry with God….

So, if you read my last blog, you know what we’ve been working with the past few years. Last Christmas day, the obnoxious bitch Aunt Flo decided she would gift me with her presence, like the Krampus she is. Ladies in the TTC (trying to conceive) boat know what a stupid hoe-bag she can be, showing up to dash hopes and dreams. Anyway, it was a rough day. A day that I thought would be happy, just turning out to be a reminder of disappointment. A reminder of celebration of a child born, but we still did not have our prayers answered. Anger and questioning - why God? Are you not listening to us? As a side note, I don’t think God minds these feelings toward him sometimes. He’s got some pretty broad shoulders… he’s been accused of worse.

So, you ask, what did we do about the hole we felt in our heart and sadness about the plans we had not working out? Well, we rescued that sweet little thing pictured above, with the caramel cocoa eyes, that could make a puddle out of anyone he snuggles up to and has taken so much money out of our bank account. This is this face you get when you get your period on Christmas day. This 4-legged, food blackhole, anti-anxiety med taking, 2x kennel destroying, hymnal-eating, poor-mannered, safe haven box humane society rescue, 3 year old bundle of pure love would not be something I would give up for the world.

Many close friends and family know of our struggle.  It’s becoming less of a secret, especially with being married almost 5 years and others knowing our desire to have children.  So, here’s a raw, sometimes humorous, often heartbreaking commentary on the journey so far.  Be aware, some of this is messy and detailed - if you’re squeemish or feel that you may be triggered (you can tell by the title) stop here.

So about 9 months ago or so, I visited my ob/gyn for the first appointment.  We had been “trying” well over a year with no luck and they say that at my age once you hit that 1 year mark, ya gotta seek the outside help.  The doctor puts me on Clomid, a drug that induces ovulation, though I have no diagnosis and everything is technically normal (hubs test = normal, blood tests = normal).  They tell me that I need a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) which is a test where they inject radiographic dye into the fallopian tubes to check for abnormalities or blockages.  They say that fertility increases slightly after a HSG because it can flush out blockages and such.

The trick for this beautiful procedure is that you need to call at the beginning of your cycle because then you need to have it done after you are done menstruating and before ovulation.  So, first cycle on Clomid, I call the Dr’s office to schedule and apparently the women of Marion’s pregnancies are synced with my cycle because he had c-sections scheduled during my small window and my schedule did not match with his availabilies.  Ok, no problem, it’s just one month.  Next month it is!

I get myself prepared for the next month - doing research on what to expect.  Schedule it - great.  Go in to the surgery center first thing in the morning, get in my gown, sit in the big comfy pre-op chair covered in a sheet, with blankets on, somewhat nervous about what is to come.  Oh and did I mention, I had to pee in a cup so that they could do a pregnancy test.  You don’t want to flush out an embryo if there happens to be one in there.  Adam and I are still the only patients in the facility.  Slowly, quite a few employees filter into the room, talking among themselves - nurses, drs, assistants... My attending nurse then comes in and asks, “When was your last period?”  I get out my phone, as the modern woman that I am, to look at the fertility app I record everything in.  I told her it was whatever it was.  She then says, “Are you sure it was your period?”  The employees are now all looking at me and Adam.  I say, “Yes, I use a Diva Cup, so I am pretty aware of my body’s patterns.”  She then says, “Well, we have a positive pregnancy test here!” To which everyone in the facility (probably 6 to 10 spectators by now) start congratulating Adam and I.  “Congrats Dad!” The one guy in his scrubs and surgery cap says to my husband.  Adam and I are both in shock.  Joy and apprehension fill me.  It doesn’t make sense, but I want to believe it. The nurse said she dumped the urine or else she would test again. My nurse calls my Dr. telling them of the positive test and they order a blood test.  I get dressed, we get our refund of the money we paid when we first arrived, and head to the lab for my blood work.  We then excitedly go to Bob Evans for breakfast, as we were pretty hungry after not eating much due to the early rise.  We talk about how crazy this story is and how funny it was to have all of those people in there when we first found out.  Adam is so excited, and I am too, though I feel like I know my body and I just felt like I couldn’t let myself get fully excited yet.  We go home and go about our days.  I had a few cheapo preg tests that I felt like I just needed to take... I took 2... both negative. My Dr’s office called and the woman says, “Congratulations are in order!”  I tell her about the 2 negative tests and say, “Well they are the cheap kind, so they could be wrong.”  I could hear in her voice that she wished she didn’t congratulate me and told me that she would call the minute she got the blood test results in. Adam and I go about our day, I take a nap.  My Dr’s office then calls... the blood test was negative. The final verdict and my heart breaks.  It was like we lost a child that never existed.  Understandably it was only a few hours that I thought we finally had our prayers answered, but it was enough.  I feel so much more sympathy for women who have had miscarriages, for the plans that never came to be.  I sobbed the rest of the day (and do so now as I write this, too).  

Okay....... on the next month.  I call the Dr. Schedule the HSG.  They can’t do it at the surgery center like they wanted to do last time because of scheduling, so they schedule me at the local hospital.  Adam and I get up bright and early and go to check in at the hospital.  The nice woman at the desk asks me my name.  She can’t find it.  “What is your Dr’s name?” I tell her.  She finds that I am scheduled for an HSG for NEXT MONTH, not that day.  Mind you - HSG’s can’t be scheduled that far in advance because they are determined by your menstrual cycle and you literally schedule them a week or days in advance.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!  We go out to our car, sit in the Starbuck’s parking lot and wait for the Dr’s office to open (because it is still very early).  I call them finally getting through.  Tell them about the predicament.  They tell me that I need to come into the office.  The woman at their front desk dares to tell me that I was supposed to go to the surgery center - basically telling me that it is my fault, but they will try to get me in today.  I am beyond aggravated.  A women then pulls me into her office, she apologizes, tells me they are going to make sure to get me in that day for the HSG, gives me a $25 visa gift card (as if that makes it better) and I get scheduled that day during the Dr’s lunch break.  Fantastic.  They make sure to do the urine pregnancy test at the Dr’s office this time.  It came back negative.  Off to the surgery center... again.

My attending nurse, a very kind older woman comes in and gives me my gown, non-slip blue socks, back for my belongings, and asks how I’m doing.  I remember her being at the first spectacle, but she was not in our peanut gallery.  I break down in tears and she gives me one of the most needed hugs I have ever had and says, “Oh sweetie, you have had a rough go at this.”  So, I get in the operating room, they explain to me what’s going to happen -   I can see my reproductive organs on this screen - fantastic. Let’s go.  A nurse is up by my head and he tells me that he is there for moral support, I say, “Ok great.”  They insert the speculum - nothing unusual - all women know what this feels like.  Dr says something along the lines of, “Hmm, the cervix is closed, so we’re going to have to dilate it.  Hand me the hystero-dilator (or something like that).”  Nurse has no f-ing idea what he is talking about. “These?” she asks.  Yup, them. (btw, she was one of the peanut gallery a month earlier).  The tool looks like one of those short scissor things. “You feel any discomfort?” Feeling good, doc, let’s get this over with. This is when I experienced one of the most excruciating painful experiences of my life.  Dear Lord, it was like I was one of Vlad the Impaler’s victim’s.  “I am feeling pain now” I say with a trembling voice.  The nurse says “Grab my hand” and the poor man’s hand probably needed x-rayed after I was done with the machine. Peanut gallery nurse says to the observing student who I had no idea was there the whole time, “You can see the cervix, can you see the cervix” like a freakin zoo animal.  I am here for your amusement, I thought as I had sweat pouring off my brow in the cold room.  Then they inflated the balloon - even more pain.  Then the ink is inserted - slight fire through my abdomen.  “The right tube is open - good news!” Dr says... Extreme fire through my abdomen - Dr says “Left tube is a bit closed, but open now!”  “We’re done” were the best words I had heard.  The bloody tools are pulled out, balloon deflated.  Should I really have been awake for this?  It was quick, but wow.  Douche peanut gallery nurse then wisely states, “That’s what it will feel like when a baby’s head comes out.” Delirious from the pain high, I just stared at her.  Well it was over.  Better chance to conceive now.  Hope.  

Several months later, nine months of Clomid (only supposed to be on it for like 6 months because it diminishes the egg reserve), and our Dr refers us to the specialist.  Hope is not gone, but it is struggling to stay afloat.  Still no diagnosis, and a bit of a let down from when the Dr was so confident.  We will see what the specialist says.  Next potential options would be IUI (inter-uterine insemination) or IVF, which we do not feel is an option for us at this point. 

I write about this because I feel like these struggles are predominately kept silent.  I found a pretty great online community through a facebook group that I have gone to for questions, a proverbial shoulder to cry on, etc. but sadly there, with this group being women only, my husband has had a hard time with not having such a resource.  You are not alone in your struggles of infertility.  We have around two and a half years under our belt, certainly not as long as some, but it feels like forever.  Prayers are appreciated.  Feel free to private message me or come up to me privately if you would like to talk - it is hard to talk about it sometimes without crying so I prefer to not do so in a very public setting.  But know that if you know this struggle, you are far from alone.

We have a great desire to be parents and are proactively in the process to become foster parents, with the goal of adoption.  This was a desire for us even before this struggle, but we decided to go about beginning the process sooner.  More on this in a future post.  

For now, xoxo.  Oh and...

So, being married to a pastor has led me to be exposed to thoughts of God and religion (Lutheranism in my case - Evangelical Lutheran Church in America to be specific) probably a bit more than most. And being married particularly to the man who is my husband has also challenged me in my thoughts profoundly through our numerous discussions on topics of religion, philosophy, social issues, etc. I love it. 

I have also gone back to school to earn my degree in social work.  This has gone above and beyond all of my previous educational experiences (let me just say, I've had a few).  I took my first philosophy class (Ethics) last semester and it was awesome. I feel like this class opened my thought process to greater depths.

But, with exposure and necessity to finally be required to think more critically and more deeply, came more questions as to why I believe anything that I do.  I can honestly say that some of my beliefs have changed.  They had to because of learning how to object and reply to my own arguments.

My belief in a higher power did not change for the long run, however. I did experience times of great wonderment, doubt, and almost panic that what I had known, worshiped and hoped for basically my entire life could actually be wrong and all in vain.  So, I thought deeper, talked it out and wrote down some of my ideas and reasons for ultimately seeing great evidence to continue my quest to understand the beautiful depth of the God I have come to understand thus far in my piddly 28 years. 

Basically, I ask questions like a freakin toddler.  "Why?" "Why?" "Why?" ... then throw some Cheerios on the floor....

Btw - this is pretty deep and I have an admittedly limited vocabulary, so bear with me. Also, it is pretty random as ideas have come to me about questions I have had while thinking about God and God's existence. 

As seen on Earth, the universe (as we have seen so far) and from an understanding of time, things begin, exist, and end. The beginning of EVERYTHING had to occur just as anything does, right? Our universe works that way - just as a tree is formed from a seed being created by it's parent tree.  But, the tree's before it had to exist, evolve into what it presently is, etc.  That tree came from somewhere - it was created from something. Trees, animals, humans follow a lineage.  Particles in the universe are recycled and created into new bodies - planets, stars, etc. The universe may also follow a similar lineage. But, how did everything start. A lineage starts somewhere - the pattern isn't infinite - it can't be! Our universe doesn't work that way - nothing is infinite and I don't think the universe can be infinite either (many astrophysicists don't believe so either, though with varying opinions). Where will the bounds lie?  Even with vast unknown other spaces, universes, membranes, etc. outside our own universe, where does it end? Where's the "wall"?

Let's jump to this: For a beginning to occur, there would need to be an initiation outside of the linear time.  Some say that everything would have had to come from nothing because of the law and infinite nature of the universe, anything can randomly pop into existence at any random point.  Would this in itself need to be a law?  Is there a law that creates laws in the universe?  What about the laws of the laws of the laws? Again, how can laws just pop into existence and it they do just pop into existence, isn't that a law? What is the initiation of universal laws?

What about all of the organization, acutely minute and expanding outward in size?  Organization is a huge piece of evidence for me to see God in the details.  Is randomness in itself a form of organization? Organization, though our brains are equip to recognize, is a tangible universal truth. Why can we see it? Can intelligent beings be intelligent without the realization of organization? Is our awareness of organization intentional?

Is nothingness a law? Is nothing in itself still an existence?  Is nothing and something both existence in their own sense?  Existence in itself is extremely fascinating to me. WHY?! Why existence? Why existence of anything?

Within time, there is a time of existence and a time of nonexistence, which we see as linear (beginning, middle, end) in our understanding in the United States, modernly. Would there need to be both nothingness and existence in nonexistence, before time? In the realm of God, we would "be" with God in the timeless. Basically there is God, then there is us, with God - no time, just "being" together.

Something happened a couple weeks ago that has happened one time before since I’ve been married. I have had two different people make separate, yet similar statements…..

The two statements made to me had to do specifically with how people of different races should not mix. In both scenarios, I was fairly taken aback.

I have become a lot more socially aware in my recent years and found a strong passion for social justice, but such discriminating comments as these hit close to home. I am personally in an interracial marriage. It is very confusing that people will make these comments to me because not only do I try to stand for equality and present myself as such, but I am also married to an Asian American man (he’s German and Thai).

"Well, it’s not that noticeable," said one woman about the interracial status of my marriage. *forehead smack*.

"I just worry about the kids," said the other woman in the more recent conversation. (So, my husband shouldn’t have been born because asshole racists exist? WE shouldn’t reproduce because bigoted people are in this world?)

To the woman who eavesdropped the conservation my husband and I were having on the morality of male circumcision at the Chinese restaurant: your welcome.

Here’s the story: For my ethics class, I had to write a paper on my views pertaining to several moral issues… One being body mutilation, including male circumcision (hopefully I’ll remember to put a copy of that paper on here). We were going back and forth, for and against, whenever the woman who apparently sat at the table behind me was getting up from her seat to leave, with the man who sat with her at the register paying for their meal at this moment. Well, I guess she lingered there… intrigued by our less than appetizing dinner conversation. My husband spots our little eavesdropper and tells me with a whisper that maybe I should talk a little quieter. “Good luck with all that” she then says as she walked away and out the door. I’m seeing this as a positive, however. Maybe she can have a more educated view on the subject than the typical, ignorant “he’ll get picked on in the locker room” bullshit… And an interesting topic of conversation for the ride home.

With this insane cold spell, I have heard from various directions the argument that there is not really a warming of the Earth, but the whole concept is really all just a liberal agenda driven scam, completely unrelated from human activity and fossil fuel combustion.

hmm. I see you like to live dangerously.

Hello my name is church, I'm sure you've heard a lot about me. I have no shortage of critics. Perhaps you have heard that I am... boring, shallow, cheap, a waste of time...

This is pretty much a perfect summation of my own beliefs and understandings. Rachel Held Evans has put the words into such a beautiful, cohesive and comprehensive order. Fellow Christians, even if you may not agree, please take the time to read - and if you are not Christian, you may actually like this, too. It's completely different than any Christian identity society and the media tries to portray and a 180 from the loud voices of today's 'Christian representatives' we always hear about.

So, my first thought: sacrilege. Also: what the fuck... a movie about trolls in a box?  Or whatever, some shit like that... And I love children's movies! I seriously drag my husband to just about every film released in theaters with a target audience of 12 years of age and younger.  This one though... sigh... I don't know if I can see it now.

I am completely aware that people use songs other than their original purpose. I mean, our national anthem's tune came from a drinking song - well aware.  Other faiths and religions have probably had this done with their music, as well. 

I could also take the more optimistic view: The advertisement starts with the sculptors putting the creatures together and making sure their troll joints and such work properly, then flows into clips of the movie.  The artists  are creating these little buggers with their hands, just as our Heavenly Father was the creator of humankind. One could perhaps  draw a parallel with the working of the clay and the biblical story in Genesis where God created Adam from the soil... etc. blah blah blah. but, I DON'T WANT TO.

I guess I'm just coming out of the Christmas season a little extra bitter this year (well actually, we are STILL in the Christmas season for another 6 or so days - CHRISTMAS IS 12 DAYS LONG FOLKS! While the rest of the world ends Christmas December 26, 12 am sharp...) With this supposed war on Christmas with all the jolly capitalism (*cough* sarahpalin), I am just very frustrated and fed up with the secular, thinly veiled lines blurred of religious observance and simultaneous disgust shown when true religion is displayed. 

Woohoo! Found a tumblr app for my kindle!

It’s kind of funny… My observation, as someone who has probably posted more of my political and religious views on facebook than most, has been  that if I want likes and comments, I better post a picture of my dog.   If I post something about religion, a political view point, or a social issue, I may get one like, if I’m lucky. This is even with many friends who have similar views on such topics. I could chalk it off to the over stimulation of the internet and social media, but I think it could go even beyond that…

I think we, as a society, are simply attracted to what’s cute.  My St. Bernard is fricken adorable.  A malnourished child doing poorly in school due to lack of food, not so much. Jesus reaching out to those on the fringes, loving all and asking us to be His hands and feet- not all that cute, either….   

Thus this Tumblr account!  Hopefully like-minded and unlike-minded alike will read and we can grow together to be better human beings and citizens of the world.