Faith Issues

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Let me begin this post by saying that this is not my best written blog, and I don't think it flows just right, but I am trying to be brutally honest about my relationship with God and it is ridiculously hard because I don't know if I entirely understand it myself. 

I am a Christian. I believe in God, and I know that God is good, wants good for us, and I try to live my life the way He wants me to. But I have a faith problem. I have such a hard time reconciling my faith with my infertility. It’s like a paradox. I believe in God, that He is good and that He wants the best for us, but then I want a baby so bad and I have suffered so much heart ache due to infertility. I have never been able to find lasting peace because I can’t even get a good, sure answer that I cannot have a baby, so that little hope keeps flaring up and bringing the pain back to the surface, and I can never fully get over it.

When I was on my way to the hospital to see my niece’s birth I had another crisis of faith. I was driving along and her contractions advanced so quickly that while I was praying so hard that she would wait until I got there they called to tell me that she was going to the hospital. At that point I started going back and forth between praying that I would make it and fighting with God, certain that I was going to miss it. I was so angry with God, asking him how it is that I can want something so bad, and pray for it so hard, like being able to see my niece be born, and then still miss it. I have an easier time accepting my infertility, because there have been a few times when getting pregnant would not have been best, like when we found the tumor on my spine in my neck and I needed all sorts of tests (x-rays and MRI’s and others) to see whether or not is was cancerous.

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Therefore, sometimes I can accept that God knows best (though intellectually I know He does, emotionally sometimes I don’t understand). Sometimes I think that He knows some good reason why now is not a good time, and why it might never be right for us, but I could not come up with one possible explanation of why I should not be at the birth of my niece, when I wanted it so much. Again, intellectually I know that God wants the best for me and that if God decided I shouldn’t be there than there apparently is a good reason I should miss it, but emotionally I have a harder time with that. It’s like I’m a child. A child knows mommy loves her, but doesn’t always understand when mommy says that she can’t go play at her friend’s house right now.

So I’m fluctuating back and forth between continuing to pray to make it in time, and arguing with God because I was sure I was going to be too late. When I was about 20 minutes away I called and my mom told me that they thought that she was still going to be a long time. The hospital thought that her contractions were being brought on by dehydration, and were having her drink water. Of course at this point I changed my tune again. I was contrite; I started praying about how I knew I was wrong to have doubts like I was having. I felt like I had a good heart to heart with God on that trip over, and it made me start thinking about these issues.

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When I was in high school I was so close to God. I read my bible all the time, I loved reading it! I prayed constantly, I felt God’s presence in my life on a regular basis, and felt loved by Him. I was comforted by praying when I was fighting with my dad, and I broke up with my boyfriend because I realized (eventually) that God didn’t want me to be with him.

After high school it was like a switch was thrown. I stopped being able to feel God. I read once I think in the bible about a man who God withdrew from in a way that He could not be felt, and that it was a test of that man’s faith to continue to have faith even when one could not feel God. It was much easier to have faith in God when I could feel Him there all the time. It is a whole different story now that I don’t feel like He is there.

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Storie's Story

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Being at the birth of my niece was such a blessing. (Remember her name is Storie) As I stated in my last post it was very important for me to be able to witness the miracle of birth at least once in my life. When she called at told me her contractions were a half hour apart and had been for several hours I decided I would finish dinner and then get on the road to start my three hour trip. When I was half way there her contractions had already advanced to 5 minutes apart and they were going to the hospital, but luckily for me neither the labor nor the contractions advanced for the entire hour that she was in the hospital before I got there. They even sent her home after an hour (right after I got there) and told her the baby wasn’t coming tonight, since she was only 1.5 cm dilated. We talked about walking around Walmart but the nurse said not to go walking because the baby wasn’t coming tonight and walking would only tire mom out. She said mom should go home and get some sleep. We weren’t sure how the expectant mom was supposed to go about sleeping while having contractions at 5 minutes apart, but we did what the nurse said.

When we got back to her house we started religiously timing the contractions using the stopwatch on my phone. Within the hour they were 2 minutes apart and very painful, so we went back to the hospital. Eventually they moved her to her own delivery suite, where mom stays through the labor, delivery and after the baby comes until she goes home.

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About 5:15 mom was checked again to see how far she was dilated, because she wanted to get more IV drugs, but wasn’t going to do it if she was 7cm or more, because baby has to go to ICU if she is born within 4 hours of getting the drugs. She was only at 6cm so she opted for more pain relief. 10 minutes after getting the IV her water finally broke. Her pain got much worse and I made sure that the new dad was standing by her side, and asked him for his phone so I could call his mom, since she wanted to be notified when the water broke.

While I was on the phone with his mom to tell her that the water broke Storie made her quick entrance into this world. From the time her water broke to the time she was completely out it was about 3 minutes, and from the time she started coming to the time she was all the way out it took about 10 seconds. I barely turned my head in time to see her make her grand entrance into this beautiful world. She came out with some great lungs, screaming away and with a full head of dark hair. She was born at 5:28 am, 7 lb 1 oz, 20 inches long. Since she was born 10 minutes after mom’s second dose of IV drugs she was soon taken to ICU, after dad cut the umbilical cord and she was cleaned up and held for a couple of minutes. I teared up when she came out and when dad cut the cord.

Big sister Layla and Storie

It was a terrific thing to see this beautiful baby be born into our strange world, and I am so happy I was able to witness it. She did great at ICU and they brought her back an hour sooner than they said they would, so we all started to take pictures. Mom and dad were both so happy, as were all the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and even big sister (who is almost 3) was a little happy, though I don’t think she was entirely sure what was going on. Storie latched well and breastfed for the first time, diapers were changed, baby was held and loved, family was together; it was a great scene with which to begin or end a movie, and similar to the picture I would use to portray my dream for my husband and myself.

Dad, Mom, big sister Layla, Baby Storie

Niece #3

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My sister is due with her second baby at the end of this month. We are all thinking she might come early, and I am hoping for today because I have a three day weekend since I have Martin Luther King JR Day off and then I wouldn't have to take any vacation time to go there. She lives about 3 hours from me, so when she goes into labor she is going to call me so that I can get there as soon as possible. I have a bag packed in my car so that I can leave from work or in the middle of the night with no packing necessary, and I have it approved by my boss to leave from work when she calls. I have a couple of vacation and couple of sick days built up so I should be able to take a couple of days, but I hope she goes into labor right before any given weekend so that I can take maybe 2 vacation days and have 2 weekend days also to meet my third niece, Storie.

I am very excited to be there and I hope the labor doesn't go by so fast that I miss it. I have never been there when somebody was in labor and I am really looking forward to it. I wasn't able to make it to this sister's first baby's birth because my old boss wouldn't let me leave, and I couldn't make it to my other sister's baby's birth because she lives out of state and I couldn't afford to fly there on a moment's notice.

When I missed the last one because my old boss refused to work with me or reschedule any of my rides to go with anybody else I was so upset. I really wanted to be there because I don't know if I will ever have one of my own, and this might be my only chance to be present at a live birth. So this time I am hoping that I can make it and I can be there to witness the birth of my new niece. I am so excited to be able to welcome another baby into my family, judging by my awesome two nieces I already have I bet this one will be a great addition.

My darling husband (who thinks he's a 4 year old)

And, just to remind my husband—the Hargraves women ONLY have girls. When and if WE ever get pregnant it is going to be a girl, and we are going to give her some kind of wacky hippie name like this third niece coming this month. Deal with it. Whining like a child will only be accepted while you are wearing your Mickey Mouse footie jammies that you got for Christmas this year.

Are You Pregnant?

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This is not a fun question. I usually hear it when I’m sick, as a question or as a prediction- “Maybe you’re pregnant”. I don’t get mad, and I don’t blame the person asking it, because most people don’t realize that I would know if I was pregnant. I always know what day of my cycle I am on and whether or not I could be pregnant. Also it is SO hard for those of us trying to keep from getting excited during our “two week wait”.  For infertile couples the Two Week Wait (2ww) is the time between ovulation, at which point some have had Intrauterine Insemination (IUI) or In Vitro Fertilization (IVF). Others that not doing IUI or IVF may have just been taking medication to help them ovulate and having Timed Intercourse (TI) which is just planning to have sex at the right time of the month. Even those that aren’t on any medication, like me, are still stressed out. Most of us already read too much into every twitch and stomach ache and mood swing thinking that it means we are pregnant, that we don’t need others predicting for us.

Another problem we have is dreaming we are pregnant. Most people I know battling infertility dream on occasion that they are pregnant and/or have just had a baby. I had another dream last night about getting pregnant and giving birth.  Every time I dream about it I dream that it goes really smooth. It’s such a bummer to wake up from a dream like this, but I guess it’s nice while I’m dreaming, because I’m so happy.

In conclusion: Infertility Sucks!

Nothing New

So I haven’t posted in awhile. When I think about it I’m not surprised. My last post was about starting anti-depressants because, unfortunately, it was time. One of the reasons I hate anti-depressants is because even though I don’t feel as bad after I go on the meds I also notice that things don’t seem as funny, and my interests aren’t as interesting to me. I love that I’m not crying all day or snapping at my husband every other time he speaks, but I don’t feel as much like writing or taking pictures, and of course the worst side effect of anti-depressants: no sex drive.

So I guess all I have to say is that I did take my own advice and go on the anti-depressants and they are doing what they are supposed to do. I’m not angry like I was and that is terrific! Also I want a new puppy so much! My husband’s cousin who lives right next door got a new puppy who is so cute and he was telling us that there is one left and it’s free and so cute! They are a Pug/Shih Tzu mix. But I have three cats and a dog already, and we don’t really have room for another.

Depression

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So it doesn't appear that my mood is improving with the absence of my period. Usually I have to suffer through a little bit of depression, sometimes mild sometimes severe for at least a week with pms and the arrival of my dreaded monthly companion, but then it goes away and I tend to feel better for a few weeks until the next onslaught of mood swings. Sometimes I have a week and a half of bad moods, but some months I don't have any more than a day or two or a moment or two on a couple of days that I feel very bad.

Lately however my depression has been worse and lasted longer, I want to sleep more as well as having a harder time waking up in the morning and I've been having more aches and pains than usual, along with the usual sadness and the anger that is new with this bout of depression, and all those are signs of worsening depression. So with dismay I think it's finally time to turn to the medical community for some help out of my slump. Hopefully if I go back on anti-depressants I can get back to a place where I don't bite my husband's head off every time he looks at me funny.

It's hard for me to go back on anti-depressants because I hate doctors and medicine. Not because I have any fear of needles or anything, but because many times doctors want to prescribe medicine for every single ailment as a first resort, sometimes without looking for the root cause of the problem, and so much as preventative medicine which is often unnecessary. The last time I had to go to the doctor it was for a bad respiratory infection he prescribed me an antibiotic and tried to give me a steroid shot for the symptoms, which I refused. He also prescribed me a GIANT bottle of prescription cough medicine with codeine, which is one reason the entire country is starting to get dependant on pain killers. The time before that I went to him for a Staph infection on my arm that I picked up (twice) from my job at the prison and he prescribed an antibiotic for the staph, and tried to prescribe something for a yeast infection "just in case" I got a yeast infection from the antibiotics which is a common side effect for some women. I said no thanks, and told him if I suffered from that particular side effect I would treat it naturally.

It's also hard for me to go back on anti-depressants because it's like admitting defeat. I feel I'm giving up and I hate that feeling. It's hard for people to admit they need help, and it's hard for me to relinquish control, which it feels like I am if I can't even control my own emotions without medicinal help. I know that it is a medical problem and not something I can control at will, no more than I can choose to ovulate or decide not to have a period this month. But having the head knowledge of these facts doesn't change what I feel, and what I feel is that I'm failing at being an adult. Grown-ups are supposed to be able to handle everything thrown at them with ease, work 40 hours a week, pay all the bills on time, cook dinner every night, keep the house clean, and still maintain happy marriages and raise well-adjusted children. I can't even handle working 40 hours a week without wanting to just curl up in a ball and stay there. I barely get any housework done even on the weekends because I am so physically and emotionally worn out from my work week. I'm always snapping at my husband and yelling at my cats, or crying for no reason. And, again, though my head knowledge that tells me that everyone needs some kind of help and even those who make all that work look easy don't always have an easy time at it doesn't change how I feel.

Anger

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Today is one of those very rare days where I wake up so fantastically cranky that I sit around all day stewing and feeling like I want to punch someone. On days like this it feels like my only options are to either be angry or cry. In fact I think the reason I am angry is because I am more depressed than usual and just want to lie down and curl up in a ball –but I have to go to work and pretend everything is fine and do my job without interruption.

I am angry because I had to get up this morning when I was still ridiculously tired from hardly being able to sleep due to coughing so much because of this upper respiratory infection that I supposedly should be over by now. I am angry because I woke up a few minutes late and had to rush when packing my lunch and letting the dog out and then drive to work in the rain. I am irritated because I have to walk down more than 90 outside steps to get to my office, and the knowledge of having to take those same steps back up in the inclement weather with an umbrella that keeps turning inside out in the slightest win just ticks me off even more. I am bothered because my boss is so busy all the time and has so many meetings that we usually don't have enough time to go over her mail and the other things we need to discuss. I am cranky because I am hungry, but there is no food being served here today that I will eat, and the tomato soup I brought as my lunch does not appeal to me at all.

But I am thankful that I woke up at all this morning and that I was not late to work. I am thankful that I was able to afford to see the doctor and start the antibiotics I need to kick this cough, even though it seems to be taking too long. I am thankful that I am physically able to walk up and down 90 steps each day, and that I don't need to be on crutches even temporarily. I am thankful that I have a job, a state job that I cannot get laid off from or fired from for no good reason, one that I get 40 hours a week, Monday through Friday. I am thankful that I have food in the house that I can bring to work with me, and that at my job I can eat for free, even though it's prison food and not great, it's still food and it's still free.

I am also cranky because my arms are aching for the baby I wish to hold in them. My heart sighs when I think about the Christmas games we could play, and the traditions we could form. And my eyes glisten with tears when I think about the good times our family may never have. But I am thankful that God gave me the heart to want to love a baby so much, and the ability to feel emotions even when they are sad emotions. Most of all I am thankful for my terrific husband, my beautiful dog, and my cool stepson who is coming tonight for the week, because I would be so much more miserable without these forces of love in my life.

Infertility and depression

I need to clear up a little confusion here. I have become aware that it may appear that my entire life revolves around infertility. If you know me only through my blog, or determine who I am and what I am like according to my blog, you may have the same misconception about me. My entire life does not revolve around infertility. Every blog I write is about infertility in one way or another and every topic I choose to write about I find a way to tie it in to infertility, but that is because it is an infertility blog. If I were to write a blog about photography nearly every blog post would be about photography in some way, but that wouldn't mean that every aspect of my life was infected by photography.

Infertility is not first and foremost on my mind every minute of every day. Yes, there are things that come up that bring it into focus, but I don't have the energy to obsess about it all the time. If I spend a lot of time thinking about it, then I will get a little sad. Sometimes I will get more than a little sad, or fall into a depression for a couple of days. However, not every bout of depression I suffer is infertility related. A fight with my husband can cause a short bout of depression, as could money problems, severe stress from work, or anything else that goes wrong. There are also times when there is no specific cause for a bout with depression, because depression is a lifelong battle that isn't yet well understood by doctors, and does not always have to have a specific cause other than a hormonal imbalance.

I have been suffering from depression for my entire life, from when I was a small kid, through my teens, and as an adult. So infertility is not the sole cause of my depression. Because depression is a lifelong battle I will not take antidepressants every time I have a bout with depression. Until my depression becomes so severe as to regularly limit my daily function I intend to stay away from anti-depressants. I have taken them in the past and they greatly benefited me, but I don't think it is necessary to be on anti-depressants for the rest of your life as long as you go off them under a doctor's supervision. I will go back on them if I decide it's necessary. I have also asked my husband to let me know if he thinks I need them again; if I don't recognize the need myself. However, if and when I go back on antidepressants I intend to take them only for a few months, and then attempt to go off of them (under a doctor's care) and see if I can once again handle life without the need to be on daily antidepressants. Most of my bouts with depression last a day or two, though I do sometimes have especially severe PMS at which point it can last for several days at a time.

Polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) is one of the causes of my infertility; and, I have learned, can also be a cause of depression and/or mood swings. Many times a woman with PCOS suffers from more severe PMS, depression, and mood swings, than women who do not have PCOS. This can be caused by the imbalance of hormones that causes PCOS. So, chances are, even if I find out that I can never have a baby of my own and I somehow come to completely accept it so that I am never once bothered by it, I will still suffer from depression and mood swings. Of course, infertility isn't something that most people just 'get over'. I think I am pretty well adjusted to the idea of maybe not having a baby of my own, but that does not mean that I am happy for it or that I'm never going to be bothered by the thought ever again.

Christmas

My Christmas decorating is done! I love Christmas so much; it is my favorite time of the year. I love everything about Christmas, the Christmas music, the lights, the general merriment and the gift giving. I love receiving gifts, but I am the kind that just loves to give gifts, and I would do so much more than I should if I had any money. When I was a teenager I used to wrap the gifts I was giving my friends over and over again so that when they got through with one layer (after fighting with the massive amounts of tape I put on it) there would be another layer to go through. And another, and another. I still do that sometimes. And with my darling husband being such a snoop and liking to shake presents and feel them and try to guess what they are by their shape I have taken to disguising them by putting them all in boxes or other containers. One year I wrapped a few things separately and then put them into a popcorn container and wrapped that. So when he unwrapped it he thinks its popcorn, then he opened it up and has more unwrapping to do.

I put up a tree, garland around the doors, mistletoe, a wreath, and best of all, my Christmas Village. This village has been passed down from my grandma to my mom, and then I received it from my mom. When I was a kid I loved the village and I always helped put it up, and later on my mom would let me put it up on my own. There are so many buildings in this village it would cost quite a bit to replicate. It also has a skating pond that plugs in and has moving magnets moving skaters around the lake. Unfortunately I don’t quit have the room to set it all up. Last year I had to spread it around the living room, putting most in the main spot next to the tree and then putting down snow blankets on the end tables next to the couch and putting some there. This year I am short some snow blankets (must have tossed them last year) so I put them all in the main spot and just skipped the skating pond.Of course the instant I put up the village the cats invaded, and when I booted my Romeo off the sewing table so that I could set up the village he decided he was a Christmas gift and placed himself under the tree.

As much as I love Christmas if I think about it too much I get a little sad. While seeing my beautiful tree lit up and my village all beautifully arranged brings a smile to my face, sometimes it’s a sad smile when I think of how there are no kids around to share my love of Christmas with. No kids around to enjoy the magic and mystery of the moving skating pond, or the twinkling tree, or the angel topper whose wings fluidly change color minute by minute. No Christmas stories to tell, stockings to fill, or waking early Christmas morning in anticipation of the gifts and the fun and love the day will hold.