Longing for Lent

Dear Lord, do I ever need Lent to come.

I'm sure that those of you that read yesterday's post can clearly see that.

I am also certain that the Lord has a very interesting sense of humour.

I was at an all day meeting today surrounded by THREE pregnant women. I spent the ENTIRE day hearing about their pregnancies, their expectations, how easy it was to get pregnant. All of the typical conversation that one hears from a fertile that has never even had the thought that conception could possibly be difficult.

It took all of my being to stay in the room. I wanted to take my things and run, but I had to be professional and smile and look happy. I did send some bitter texts for TCIE who is always there for me (thanks again TCIE!) to help me cope, and there were a few washroom breaks that involved some silent screaming. I was dying on the inside, but no one could tell. 

Perhaps I should try acting, because I am certain that I did some Oscar winning material today.

On my way home today, I got a whiff of spring. For those of you that don't live in an arctic climate, this winter has been incredibly tough. It's been bitterly cold and there's been way too much snow (yes, a proud Canadian girl like me is complaining about snow, I usually love it, but it has been RIDICULOUS!). I got to drive with the window cracked open and the heat off.

I felt for a brief moment that I was going to make it, that the cross of IF wasn't unbearably heavy.

Perhaps it isn't just IF-related PTSD that I'm suffering from, maybe I also have seasonal affective disorder?

What I do know is that the sadness that I feel is something that I have to deal with. I need to find beauty in the little things in my life since the big stuff is just too daunting. I'm going to start with little steps tonight. My favourite yoga teacher has a new class on Wednesday nights and I'm going. I don't usually practice on consecutive nights, but I want to be bikini ready when we head south next month (the state of my body is another post for another time, d*mn you fertility drugs!). I can turn my mind off for 75 minutes and I can concentrate on making my body stronger, not the things that it can't seem to do.

Thank you all for all your kind words and support. I know that this dark time will pass, hopefully sooner, rather than later.

Seeking Comfort

That's exactly what I have tried to do today.

I took the day off because I had my annual physical (with the GP that I really don't like, but cannot leave because it is nearly impossible to find doctors that take patients). I knew that I needed a day away from my class (who is driving me crazy and making me a miserable person, well actually, it's one specific student, but I'm not going to blog about that today), and taking the entire day off was what I needed.

I've been miserable for the past couple of weeks. Part of me feels like I have some form of PTSD that's related to IF -- is that possible? I feel like I have been dragging my broken spirit through mud. I know that it most likely hormonal and that when AF starts the clouds will break open and peace will come upon me (funny how that happens, eh?). Another part of me is worried that my normalizing hormones are making me feel like a basket case.

I am usually an optimist. I am also usually happy, despite five and a half years of being IF. I am constantly being praised by my friends and colleagues about how calm I am. I know that it isn't a persona, I am actually that person.

Since the Dalya and Danielle's deaths I have tried very hard to focus on the positive things in my life -- my ulcerative colitis being in remission, our upcoming trip to the Dominican Republic, my perfect eyesight, but I feel like the weight of IF is dragging me down.

I know that I have hit rock bottom many times, and so many of you have buoyed me through so many periods of intense suffering. It seems as though I am there again.

After my physical I went to the chiropractor (who is my biggest IF cheerleader) and I complained to her about my aching lower back as well as my jaw. She joked that I'm never an easy case to "fix." She asked me why I was so tense and I wasn't able to answer her.

Is my body trying to tell me that I need to get off of this roller coaster? Is it time to reclaim my life and move on?

It seems to me that every time I set a deadline for myself, I get a positive sign that we need to keep going.  I had thought that December 2010 was going to be the end of our TTC journey, but then I started to see Dr. Nora. Then in January my Napro doctor said that we had just had our first two viable cycles and that we shouldn't despair. And now, there's a possibility (however slight) that I will be able to have surgery with Dr. H.ilgers.

Is this divine intervention? Or is it coincidence?

I know that ultimately I have to make peace with what I want, and unfortunately that means that I can't give up. I did say to Mr. JB a couple of weeks ago (perhaps it was in the car on our way home from Danielle's funeral) that I believed that we were close. I have not had that feeling in a VERY long time.

I never thought that I would be 36 and still childless. Part of me just wants to mourn the loss of that dream, but I can't hibernate in a hole and do that. Another part of me (although lately, it has been a very small part) believes that my IF is serving a greater purpose in my life.

So for now, I have to continue praying -- which has been really great since we have a Legion of Mary statue visiting with us for a couple of weeks, and hoping. And maybe, I have to reach my hands out so all of you can hold me up while I am feeling so weak and small.

Thank God for all of you.

Just this once...

I wish that I could see into the future to see that the pain of IF was all worth it.

But I know that isn't realistic, nor am I in control.

All I know is that I feel extra, special sad today and that this cross is particularly heavy on my heart.

Not even the tub of dark chocolate covered almonds are helping right now.

[sigh]

The calm after the storm

Dear Lord, I hope that this is a boring, uneventful week.

I feel like I've spent the past week crying, and it has nothing to do with the state of my uterus.

Witnessing the grief of two families, two very different families, this past week, I have had a lot of time to pray and question God. I know that I have no idea what His plans for us are, and I can't possibly understand the logic of a 13 year old girl and a 32 year old mother dying of cancer.

All week I've heard about how Dalya and Danielle were such witnesses to their faith. They both believed in God's plan for them and at the end of their lives they were both more worried about their families, and not for their deaths. At the reception after Danielle's funeral her husband and father-in-law spoke (and my how brave they both were) about how she didn't want to give up, that she was willing to try anything to live. Danielle also went as far as to write cards to both her young children, from everything from birthdays to First Communion to their wedding days. She also wrote letters to her family members outlining what she wanted them to do to help out in her kids' lives.

I have no idea how she found that strength. But then again, she made her peace and she wanted to prepare her family for her eventual death.

Dalya was another amazing witness to her faith. Her mother never wanted to use the word cancer. She refused to acknowledge the disease in the hope of erasing it. It is too bad since her brothers were both refused counseling that was offered by the hospital and the school. We have another student who's cancer in currently in remission and Dalya was over the moon to hear that Nicole was beating her disease. Dalya would call the school and ask for more challenging work, and despite the fact that she was too weak to attend school on a daily basis, she would try her best to attend when she could.

Dalya, too, worried about her family and how they would be after her death. She didn't ask for her own comfort, but for the comfort, particularly, of her mother.

I feel so small in the face of these two beautiful women.

I have spent the better part of five and a half years feeling sorry for myself. Every month since we got married I have mourned the arrival of AF and the passing of yet another month without a baby. The disease that was growing inside me, although the cause of much pain, was not fatal.

I have seen my health steadily improve since my IF diagnosis. I don't know if I will ever conceive, but at least I am not adrenally fatigued, suffering from debilitating cramps every month, or crazy because of PMS. Although I know that I would trade any of these things to have just one child, I know that this journey has brought me health, something that Danielle had her husband remind us in his speech at the reception after her funeral.

It is so hard to look past the grief that I have held in my heart, the grief of the dreams that I thought were going to come true soon after my wedding. But I do know that if it wasn't for IF that my marriage would not be as strong as it is. I also know that when parenthood does finally come that we will not take one day for granted.

So Dalya and Danielle, thank you for forcing me to appreciate my life. I will continue to pray for your families since I have no doubt that you are both looking down on us from heaven.

I hate you cancer

We had a student pass away Tuesday night of cancer.

That's two cancer deaths in one week.

The teachers had to do a mini-liturgy in our classes to remember the poor girl that passed away and I could barely hold it together.

So more prayers are in order, friends.

A twelve year old girl should not be dying of cancer. 

Let's hope that this is the last death for a LONG time.

St. Peregrine, pray for us. St. Joseph, pray for us.

Prayers Please

Okay prayer warriors, I need you.

A colleague of Mr JB's passed away from cancer this afternoon. She went into hospice care Friday and we knew that she was at the end, but it is still a shock.

She was diagnosed when she was on maternity leave three years ago. Her son will not have memories of his mother not sick. Her daughter is only five.

She had a large, faithful family and she had the support of her parish and her school community. There are many sad hearts mourning her loss.

Please pray for the repose of Danielle's soul. I cannot imagine how her husband and children are going to get through this.

St. Peregrine pray for Danielle. St Joseph pray for Danielle.

More bitter than sweet

It's my birthday eve.

I am staring down 36 and I'm not very happy about it. I didn't even organize a birthday party for myself (although we are going out to dinner tomorrow and Saturday night). For the first time since I got my chocolate fountain, it is staying in the box in the basement.

A large part of me wanted to ignore that yet another year was passing. Another year that my womb was still empty. Another year that my eggs were aging.

When we got married I never imagined that I would hit 36 and still be childless. Heck, I thought that I would be working on my third kid if my reproductive organs cooperated!

Oh my, how wrong was I?

It also doesn't help that tomorrow is also the twenty-first anniversary of Mr. JB's mom's death. I definitely don't think that those two dates coinciding are a coincidence in any way shape or form. More than one person has commented about the two dates intersecting. Did my mother-in-law have something to do with bringing me into Mr. JB's life? I definitely believe it to be so.

So I need to put my big girl panties on tomorrow and smile through my sadness. One of my students was away for her birthday earlier in the month and her parents are bringing in pizza for lunch for the class. I asked the kids if they wanted me to bring dessert and one of them said, "Madame JellyBelly bring in fruit!" I couldn't say no to that. I just spent $50 on two fruit trays, apple juice and Smar.tfood popcorn for my at school birthday party.

I know that once I see their little smiling faces that my sadness will be forgotten, or at least put away until I get home. They have been counting down all week and I know that they are more excited that I am about my birthday. They all think I'm turning 23! Gotta love little kids.

Oh please Lord, let this year be the year. I don't want to turn 37 with empty arms and an empty womb.

p.s. Thank you for all of your comments on my last post. I will be re-visiting the issue of my half-siblings and I will answer all of your questions. It's a lot for me to wrap my head around and I've been dealing with all of this hidden drama for most of my life! 

Secrets

I've been toying about writing about some pretty big family secrets for quite a while now, but I finally feel ready to share.

My parents, particularly my mother, are very secretive. From a very young age I knew that my parents weren't the typical parents. They were loving enough, in their own way, but I figured out that they were strange. As a teenager I started to do some snooping around in my parents' room. I knew that they weren't coming 100% clean with me and I was just tired about it.

From a very young age I knew that I had an older half brother. My dad was married before he was married to my mother and his first wife died when his son was quite young. I had put together pieces of the story with the help of an older cousin and while we were at a family wedding she filled me in on the entire story. Apparently my dad fell in love with her family's nanny and they had to get married (if you know what I mean). His first wife fell ill when my brother was quite young and she passed away.

My dad immigrated to Canada to get over his broken heart and soon after met my mom and the rest was history.

I remember my dad telling me about my brother and that one day he would come to Canada to live with us. When I started kindergarten I would draw pictures of a family of four and my mom would tell my teacher that my brother was just in my imagination. One day after my bath, I think I was about four or five, I was blabbering on about my brother and my mom snapped at me, "He's not really your brother, he's adopted."

I learned from a young age that I wasn't allowed to talk to my mom about my brother. I didn't quite understand why, but I just knew at a young age that the topic was off limits.

I don't know why my brother never came to Canada. He was definitely young enough to be sponsored by my parents, but for some reason he stayed in the Philippines with my paternal grandmother. I've met him twice and both times I did not feel any warm fuzzy feelings from him. I know that he's incredibly jealous of the life I get to live here in Canada while he's the hidden child. The last time my parents visited family in the homeland there were photos of both my parents with my brother and his family and they were all smiling, but who knows.

Then comes my secret sister.

Oh yes, my dad isn't the only one with secrets.

My mother also has another daughter, but the details are a little more fuzzy. My mother has never come clean that I have another sibling, nor does she even acknowledge the fact that I am not her only child, but my dad does when we're not around my mom. My cousins on my mom's side and my mother's siblings even refer to my sister in conversation. They all seem to think that I have full knowledge of how this sister came about, but I really don't.

While I was doing my detective work as a teenager I discovered pictures and letters, particularly around the time when my sister had her first child. The photos were addressed to my mom as the grandmother. But that's all my digging got me.

Today I went over to my parents' house because my dad was going to help me change my burnt out headlight. When we were on our way to the store to get the parts my dad told me that he was building a house for my sister and that my brother's house was almost finished. My parents are also building a house for themselves! I made a crack to my dad that he must be glad that he doesn't have to worry about building a house for me since I have a good job. He thought that was funny, but he did say that if we needed help that he would be there for us. It was strange that the conversation was so nonchalant! It
was like we always talk about my siblings in regular conversation!

As I was driving home I was retelling the conversation to Mr. JB and we were trying to figure out the circumstances of my sister's birth. We figure that my mother was married and her first husband must've passed away (my mother swears that divorce doesn't exist in the Philippines, and I know that she would not have had a child out of wedlock, not in the late 60's/early 70's!). Perhaps both my parents came to Canada to help heal their broken hearts. They were married in the church after all, so it would make sense that they were both widows.

I know that I will never know the complete truth from my mother. She has spent my entire life lying to me -- don't worry, I've gone to therapy, I've sorted through these issues at length -- and I know that BIG part of her craziness is that she has to keep up living this way.

So where am I going with this? I have no idea. I so wish that I could ask and find out the complete truth, but I think that it would destroy my mother.

Perhaps if Mr. JB and I ever visit the Philippines, I will hear the entire truth. Maybe it will take actually asking my sister who the heck her father is to find out. I don't know. She's wanted to be my friend on Face.book and I've ignored her request. It's just too much for my brain. I don't want to pretend that it's all hunky dory over here!

Please pray for my crazy parents. They seem to need it.

p.s. I think it's funny that today of all days that O.prah introduced her half-sister to the world today. Mr. JB even said, you could be on that show JellyBelly! Ha ha!

What a difference a day makes....

Thank God for a new day.

Not only am I completely embarrassed that at almost 36 I had to nurse a wicked hangover, I also neglected so many things around my house because of my state yesterday. I was lucky to wake up, full of energy and I did so much to make up for it.


So here's what I did:

1) Weatherstripped the windows (my not so handy hubs said he would do it in November and I was sick and tired of waiting so I just did it). It was remarkably easy and I wish that I did it earlier. I didn't realize how drafty our windows were!

2) I finished my report cards. All I had to do was enter marks and comments for the Social Studies unit that I finished on Friday, so it was a quick job. I have to print them out and proofread them before I hand them in to the principal. I am so relieved.

3) I finished the laundry and did some hand washing. I hate washing things by hand, but I seem to own way too many delicate pieces of clothing!

4) I purged and tidied up my bathroom vanity. I also packed up large bag of toiletries that I put on Free.cycle.

5) I packed up and listed a whole bunch of stuff on Free.cycle. I had clothes, shoes, bags and hangers that I wanted to give away. Most of the stuff is already spoken for so I am so glad to free my house of more clutter!

6) I went to yoga. A Sunday evening must.

I still have a ton of paperwork to tackle in preparation of tax season. I offered to do my parents' taxes as well since it isn't that difficult. All I have to do is buy a $20 computer program and I can do four sets of returns. They've been paying their accountant way too much money to do them and I know that their return won't be difficult.

It's CD4 and I am so glad that I don't have to take F.emara anymore! It made my cramps worse and it seems like my hormones are better off of it -- does that make sense? I've been doing a lot of thinking about adoption and our TTC journey lately. I feel like I'm at a crossroads right now and I need to make some decisions. The biggest thing that has been on my mind is the question of international vs. public domestic adoption (particularly through the Ch.ildren's A.id Soci.ety). I've been praying a lot lately since this discernment is not going to be easy.

Could I request some prayers please?

p.s. I am so glad that the S.teelers are going to the S.uperbowl. Mr. JB is a HUGE fan and if they lost he would've been unbearable! I really don't like NFL football, but I love my husband so I have to show my support! :)

Ouch

Mr. JB and I went to a wedding last night and I may have overindulged.

It was a cocktail reception and there weren't many JellyBelly-friendly things that I could eat. The most substantial menu items were pasta so I tried to fill up on salad and fancy cold cuts. Thank God we had cheese and crackers before we left.

I had a rough week. Heck January has not exactly been an easy month. So it doesn't surprise me that when the open bar tempted me, that I took advantage.

It has been so long since I have felt like this. I had all of these lofty ideas of what I was going to do around my disorganized house. Instead I am going to eat plain popcorn and lie around.

The one thought I had as we were leaving the reception was, "I'm glad that AF is here so I could drink at the wedding!" I wasn't even being sarcastic.

I'm going to crawl into a hole until I feel better.

[sigh]