#8 My Faith

Today is a little bit of a bummer.  I started AF and for an infertile woman, it feels like your heart is literally breaking.  I get this really sick feeling in my stomach that doesn't leave me for at least three days.  Since starting this blog however, I have vowed to cast off those negative feelings and replace them with positive thoughts and an optimistic attitude.  So to really stick it to infertility, I am dedicating my thanks today to my faith.

I am not going to lie and say that my faith has not been shaken in this journey.  I am a Christian, so when I first had the feeling that something wasn't quite right because we weren't conceiving, I started praying to God.  I prayed all day and attended mass every Sunday and prayed for the same thing over and over.  My husband and I would pray together before dinner every night and after we blessed our food, we begged God for a baby.  One time, as weird and maybe creepy as this sounds, we prayed after sex.  We were willing to do ANYTHING.

After two years of praying, we found that our prayers were not being answered.  I started to grow angry with God and questioned everything wrong in the world.  If God loved all his children so much, why are there such horrible and atrocious acts in this world?  Where is the justice?  Why can every crackhead in the United States have a baby and not take of care of it, but my husband and I, who I know will be amazing parents, can't even have one baby?  It got even worse.  I would get angry when I watched a reality TV show about teens getting pregnant and not taking care of their children.  Then I started to see my own students have children before me!  Some of them I know were not ready.  People who would get married two years after us were working on baby #2.  I felt crushed, alone, neglected, and just pissed off.  I stopped going to church and rarely prayed.  I started to believe that nothing in this world was the deliberate act of God.  It merely was science taking its course.  My relationship with God was no longer a close one and I didn't care.

Then recently I had a serious epiphany:  I was relying on hope, not faith-BIG difference.  Hope was destroying me every month.  To me hope is desperation.  It is filled with doubt.  Example: "I really hope I get pregnant this month."  This statement is filled with anticipation and fear.  In hope, there is no definite result.  However, if you have faith, you believe it will happen, even if it takes a while.  It's taken me about four years to know the difference between the two.  I've come to realize that miracles happen all the time.  In my most recent blog, I wrote about one of my heroes, Louis Zamperini and his experiences during World War II.  How did he survive what he went through?  A lot of men didn't.  Clearly, the only answer was that he believed he could survive and that eventually his suffering would end.  He is a living miracle.

I now believe this for myself.  I have suffered, but the end of it is coming, I know it.  I have faith that a miracle can happen for me too.  Regardless if you aren't a Christian, everyone can have faith.  Whether it be in a God, love, people or an energy that powers us all, everyone should have faith that miracles are real and can happen to anyone, even you.

Infertility is no longer going to weaken me.  My will is strong.  I will not further allow it to shake my faith.

"Impossible situations can become possible miracles." ~Robert H. Shuller

#7 Heroes

In honor of 9/11, I thought it only appropriate to show my appreciation and gratitude to all the heroes out there.  A hero is different for everyone.  The firefighters that risked their lives after the twin towers fell, and the ones that ended up giving their life, the soldiers overseas preserving freedom, a mom, a dad, a policeman or a teacher-these all are heroes to someone.  Not everyone can be a hero.  It really takes someone special.  They have to be willing to go above and beyond for a cause that they feel is greater than themselves.  Let me tell you about one of my heroes.

I just finished reading a book that I urge every American to read: Unbroken. It is a biography about Louis Zamperini, an Olympic runner turned B-24 bombardier during World War II.  Louis didn't have an easy life.  His parents were Italian immigrants to America and he struggled to fit in.  He was beaten up and harassed relentlessly on a daily basis.  They didn't have money and barely had enough food to eat due to the Great Depression.  However, in high school, he discovered track and became so good at running that he attended the Olympics when he was only sixteen.  Everyone said that he was destined for greatness.  Essentially, he gave up his dream of winning the Olympics when he enlisting in the military and was assigned the job of a bombardier.  He was 24 at the time and was absolutely terrified of flying.  On a flight meant to rescue another crashed bomber, Louis' plane went down in the Pacific. Out of an eleven man crew, Louis and only two other men survived the crash.  They floated on a life raft for 47 days, fighting off sharks and enduring enemy fire, thirst and starvation.  The men were rescued by the Japanese Navy (one man had died by this time) and were sent to POW camps.  What he endured at these camps was ten times worse than anything he faced on the life raft.  He was tortured, beaten, starved, given stagnant water, suffered with dysentary and dengue fever for months without medical treatment, and forced into slave labor.  After over two years in these camps, the war ended and Louis and the other POWs were saved.  He weighed 67 pounds.  He went into the war weighing in at 154.

What makes Louis a hero is not that he survived these appalling circumstances, but how he handled it in his life afterward.  Sure, Louis was a victim and he deserves all the sympathy in the world.  He could have spiraled down hill and no one would have blamed him.  He in fact did struggle for a while with depression, alcoholism, post traumatic stress, and a rage for his captors that consumed him.  However, one day he realized that the life he was leading was not the life he had fought for on that raft in the Pacific or in those horrific camps.  He wanted to live a life devoted to God.  So, he went home and poured all his alcohol down the drain.  He opened a camp for troubled boys.  He even traveled to Japan to face the very soldiers that had beaten him, tortured him and denied him his every human right.  He forgave them and embraced him.  This is what makes him a hero.  No one looks up to the guy that spirals out of control and can't put his life back together.  Though sympathetic, this is not what inspires people.  People are inspired by how someone gets back up after  he/she has been knocked down over and over again.

Louis' story touched me in such a way that there is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him.  In my personal struggle, I many times have wondered why me?  The emotional pain that I have experienced has been so heartbreaking that I wonder how I can make it through another month.  Now when I have these thoughts I think of Louis.  Is my pain, emotional or physical, greater than what he experienced?  No.  When I feel like I can't endure another month, I think of Louis and how he probably wondered every month how much longer he could make it, but still did.  Surely, whatever I am experiencing is not nearly as terrible as what he faced, and he now is a happy and healthy man in his 90's that skateboards, hikes and loves his family.

After reading this book, I self reflected on my behavior and attitude.  The way I was reacting to my infertility was not inspiring.  Crying, sulking and playing the victim, these actions are not admirable.  If I never have children and spend my life acting like this,  more than likely I will not touch a single soul.  However, if  I act like Louis did in the face of adversity, maybe my story can inspire another.  Now as each month passes, I think to myself, "I can get through this month because eventually my rescue is coming too."  When I feel sad about my predicament, I think "Is this worse than a Japanese POW camp?"  Hell No.

“A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

                                                 Louis Zamperini greeting his family after being rescued.

#6 My Brother

There really is nothing better than having a sibling that is also a best friend.  I am fortunate enough to have this blessing.  Of course, we didn't always get along.  My brother and my sister used to team up against me and pick on me relentlessly.  I was the youngest child with a temper to boot, so when they would pick, I would lash out.  They of course will say that I was a brat or that I was crazy.  I say that I was defending myself against their never ending torment.  Though my brother always picked on me, I remember my sister was especially mean.  I always thought she hated me, even when I was doing nothing wrong.  When I was about twelve years old, the tides turned.  My brother will say that I had grown up and matured and that he felt our sister was really hard on me.  I say that he grew a mind of his own and was no longer under her evil spell.  All I know was that from that point on, it was Me and Grant against our older sister.  I suddenly felt redemption.

Our friendship continually progressed and never faltered.  When we both were in high school together, instead of him being embarrassed by his little sister, he was proud.  We hung out with each other's friends and we would cover for each other if one of us snuck out (I did more covering than him).  When we were both in college together, we hung out and he always called me and included me in everything he did.  He wanted to watch over me and see me happy and have a good time.  I loved hanging out with him.  I had always looked up to him and thought he was special for a big brother.  Most big brothers, I thought, would stay far away from their younger siblings, but not my big bro.  He enjoyed showing me the ropes of high school and then college.  I of course was elated that he gave me the time of day.

After college, my brother had it rough for a while.  He had to let go of his dream of being a pilot because he got married and had kids too young.  Later on he lost a lucrative paying job and then he divorced from his first wife.  Many of his hardships came from his decisions or mistakes, but I still couldn't help but feeling for him.  For a while when he was going through the bad years, we weren't as close.  I just thought that maybe that was the natural course of a sibling relationship in life, but his depression was the culprit and I wouldn't realize it until after he overcame it.  Grant picked himself back up, got a new job and found a new wife who he absolutely adores.  It should come as no surprise that his current wife and I are great friends.  He started calling me more often and asking for advice.  Our relationship had been restored.  To this day, I talk to him at least twice a week.  We give each other advice or just listen to the other vent.

When I was going through infertility, I didn't tell anyone for about three years.  I can't explain it, but infertility almost makes one feel ashamed or embarrassed.  It's not something you want to shout from the roof tops.  It is a sensitive subject and how others react can alter your mood and spirit.  My husband and I always figured that we'd eventually get pregnant and wouldn't have to tell anyone about us struggling through it.  When it wasn't going as planned, I realized I needed to tell my family.  I knew they were wondering why we weren't having kids.  The first person from my family that I told about it was my mom, followed by my brother.  He didn't say much but just listened.  I didn't expect any consoling words, because guys just aren't that good at it.  The great thing was that he just asked questions and didn't offer any words of advice. Even better, he didn't say any of the insensitive things that most of us infertiles expect to hear from someone who doesn't understand.  I felt a weight being lifted off my chest.  Even now when I tell someone new whom I trust about my infertility and they react in a way that doesn't insult me, more weight is lifted.  I can still talk to Grant about it and the conversation isn't sad or depressing, it's merely matter of fact.  One time he said, "I just won't believe that you and Nick will never have kids.  Yall are just too good of people for it to never happen."  Some people need to take advice from him on the right things to say to an infertile woman.  I have the best big brother in the world.  I am so thankful.    

"I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see.  I sought my God, but my God eluded me.  I sought my brother and I found all three." ~Author Unknown

#5 Teaching

I have been teaching for the past five years.  Currently I am not working as a full time teacher but am substituting instead.  My husband told me that this year I should take a much needed break.

Teaching full time and struggling with infertility was very difficult.  When my doctor wanted me to come in every day one week for an ultrasound at nine in the morning, it wasn't exactly easy to take off.  After I did that one week, I vowed I could never take off from work like that again.  Taking time off for a teacher is very different from other professions.  Not only are you gone from planning, organizing and grading, but you are leaving 100+ students behind to fend for themselves. Not to mention that you have to do extra the day before for being gone the next day.  It is exhausting!  So, instead of taking off, I worked my infertility appointments around my teaching schedule.  This was still very stressful and difficult.  Once when my doctor wanted to test for a thyroid problem, I had to record my temperature and heart rate three times a day.  I had to plan it during my off periods, lunch break and between classes.  I can't even count the number of days I would race to my doctor's office after school just so I could make it to get my blood drawn before the four o'clock deadline.  On top of that I was charting CM every day, all day while working.  Every chance I could make it to the bathroom, I went.  This meant booking it to the bathroom and back in the four minute passing period time between classes.  For empahsis, let me add that the bathroom was on the other side of the school, so that meant I literally ran.

When I look back at all of this, sometimes it makes me laugh because it is so ridiculous.  The things us infertiles will do to get pregnant!  Sometimes however, it makes me realize how strong I am.  Most women do not have to endure all this stress and heartache and they are lucky, don't get me wrong.  I would trade places with them in a minute, but I've learned a lot about my character in the process.  I have been knocked down so many times in this battle, but I always manage to get back up.  I endure a lot of emotional and some physical pain and I learn to get through it.  A lot of things in my life have helped me get through the hard times, but one of the things that sticks out like a sore thumb is teaching.

Unless your an exception, every woman has an innate desire for children.  A woman may want success and have ambition, but the sense of purpose is best fulfilled by having a baby.  Because really, the greatest success of all is raising a productive member of society.  For infertiles, that sense of purpose may never be fulfilled.  So then, what is our purpose in this life?  Every person has to answer that for themselves and it is up to them to seek and find it.  For me, I always felt that if I never have children, at least teaching has given me a sense of purpose.

I love kids.  I love helping kids and seeing them succeed...even if they are not my own.  I see that students crave discipline and I give it to them.  I am not a pushover and I expect a lot of out of my class.  I am there to help them when they need it and tell them to do it themselves when I know they can.  I try to encourage them and influence them in positive ways.  I give them advice and listen when they need to talk.  I try to demonstrate how to behave and to work hard.  Sure, I teach them the subject matter, but I also do so much more.  For some of my students, I know that my classroom is the only place they are learning life lessons.

Sure, sometimes it hurts to look at my students and see what I may never have, but I have to shake my head and clear that thought.  What sits before me is a classroom of kids that need me at that moment.  There were mornings that I would cry on the way to work, but rest assured as soon as I walked in that school, I was back to the upbeat teacher that they had come to expect.  Teaching not only gave me a sense of purpose in life but it gave me strength to keep going even when I didn't want to.  For that I am extremely thankful.

"A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others."  ~Author Unknown

#4 My House

I love my house.  Just thinking about my house gives me a sense of pride.  It's not the most beautiful, biggest or that up to date, but it's all mine (or I guess I should say all ours).

Since I moved out of my parents' house at the age of eighteen, I have lived in about ten different places.  Which pretty much means that I was moving about once a year!  All the places I lived were apartments or rental houses and all of them were not exactly ideal.  My first year away from home I lived in a dorm on campus that was so small that my roommate's and my bed were literally two feet apart.  We used to joke that whatever I breathed out, she breathed in and vice versa.  I was sick in that dorm about every other week.  We also lived in a rental home our junior year that somehow had a secret passage way for flying roaches to get in.  We were constantly hunting and being chased (literally) by roaches while screaming the whole time.  Our senior year, our rental apartment literally was about 10 feet from train tracks.  How I managed any sleep that year is beyond me.  Well, I take that back, because drinking and passing out makes you oblivious to all noises and environmental distractions.  Thank you Bud Light.  The last place I lived in with my husband was definitely interesting as well.  One of our neighbors broke into our apartment in the middle of the night to get away from two men that were "threatening to kill him."  The guy was so inebriated that I didn't know whether to kick him out or let him pass out on the couch.  I could go on and on.  Seriously, those are only a few out of many.  I won't even delve into the long story of how one of my apartments was hit by a car.

All of these stories now provide me with a good laugh and a reason to be thankful for my current house.  The house I live in now is ten years old.  It is not brand new.  It doesn't have granite countertops (yet) or wood floors (yet) and believe me, it has its flaws.  We had to fix so many problems in our first few weeks of moving in, my husband and I started to question our decision.  There were times that I thought Nick would have a nervous breakdown.  Every time he had to fix something, I would get tense.  I'm not sure if all husbands are like this, but when it comes to patience in DYI projects, Nick is not exactly setting the world on fire.  All in all though, we have come to be happy with our decision and are in love with our new home. Not just that, I am thankful for it.

As you all know, I've been struggling with infertility for four years and I have been living in this house for only about three months, so it hasn't been with me through the whole process.  However, the idea of it has.  All those years, one thing I would constantly fantasize about (besides getting pregnant) was owning a house.  What it would look like, the home decor, how big it would be, etc.  It gave me a little something to look forward to.  I was never sure if a baby was in our future (still not) but I knew for certain that a house would be.  It was something we had control over and if we worked hard enough, could get it one day.  Having a baby for us infertiles is so different.  There is absolutely no control, and you can bust your butt and put your body through hell and back and none of it may work.  That's is the reason why when someone who is not struggling with infertility gives a bit of advice or an antidote about perseverance or never giving up, we infertiles want to punch them in the face.  They have no idea what's it like and never will.

Right now I am sitting at my desk in the entertainment room of my house.  I have decorated my house just the way I like it.  It is cleaned spotless, just the way I like.  I still have big plans for this house as far as updating it to make it more modern but I love it in the mean time.  It is my home, my sanctuary.  I can be myself and if I am sad about infertility, can bawl my eyes out and no one would know the wiser.  If me and Nick have a screaming match and want to curse each other out, we do it, and we don't have to worry about the upstairs neighbors hearing.  I am so comfortable in this house.  It is glorious.

One day I hope to have children to fill the rooms of this house.  I currently have an entertainment room, a guest bedroom and one room that is empty, which I would love to turn into a nursery.  It may never happen, who knows.  However, if it does, at least I feel peace that I have a great and loving home.  Any baby would be lucky to grow up here.

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." ~ Maya Angelou

        

#3 Louisiana

Well, I am back from my labor day weekend hiatus.  I know I said I would write every day, but when I go back home, all is forgotten and I become responsibility free.  So I thought it would be very fitting to write my #3 thing I am thankful for as my home state of Louisiana.

My parents were born and raised in New Orleans and my siblings and I were all born there as well.  When I was in elementary school, my family moved from Louisiana so my Dad could find work.  From there, we lived in Mississippi, then Florida for several years and then I finished up high school in Texas.  All that time, without realizing it, I never felt at home.  It wasn't that I didn't have friends or that I wasn't happy, but something was off.  This feeling stopped when I attended LSU for college and everything made sense.  I finally felt like I was right where I belong; it was like I was tapping in to roots I had forgotten were there.  To this day, when I cross the Atchafalaya bridge, the feeling rushes back to me.

Maybe I am biased, but there is something about Louisiana that you can't get anywhere else.  I have lived in several states throughout my life, but there is no state that I have lived in yet that has the culture that Louisiana has: the food, Mardi Gras, the hospitality, the people, the music, the football, the crawfish boils, Antebellum homes, New Orleans...I could go on forever.  Louisiana undoubtedly has a culture of having a good time.  Seriously, which other state has their own holiday that they celebrate for almost a month?  If there is one, I would have to google it to realize it, but who has to google Mardi Gras?  Where else in this country can you walk down a street at twelve in the afternoon to find people drinking, laughing and listening to live music?  I bet I don't even have to tell you that the street I'm talking about is Bourbon.  I have visited many places, but not one has even near the quality of delicious cooking that Louisiana has.  It is truly a unique place and I have yet to find a place to match it.  Which leads me to explain why I am thankful for my #3.

Throughout these last four insufferable years,  I have not lived in Louisiana.  However, I visit there at least once a year.  Whether it be for Mardi Gras, to see my parents, to visit my college friends, for a family reunion, to attend a wedding or like this past weekend, for a bachelorette party, Louisiana is a great place for a vacation.  The great thing about Louisiana is not only do I feel like I can act more myself, but I forget about all my worries and my current predicament.  It takes my mind off of the situation and I can just relax and have a good time.  When I go there I am too busy shopping at the local shops, partying, eating and visiting with family and friends to think of anything else but the moment.  It is one of my biggest distractors and I am so thankful.

I love Louisiana and I am proud to call it my true home.  I have seen a decline of Louisiana in some ways in my own lifetime and this saddens me.  I was living there for Hurricane Katrina and saw the devastation it caused.  In a lot of ways, New Orleans still has not recovered.  However, despite the negative aspects of Louisiana, I really feel that they are all outweighed by the positives.  I have not lived there in years, but deep down, I know I will find my way back there eventually.

"I guess I feel that I was following my instincts, and at the same time being guided by the best. I became totally intrigued with Louisiana - the people, the food. It is a part of my life. Everything that has happened for me since moving here has just been icing on the cake."  ~Emeril Lagasse

#2: Mia (my dog)

Ok, I know what you’re thinking: “She picks a dog over the rest of her family.  She must be a crazy dog lady.”  Well I am here to tell you that I do not love my dog more than my parents or siblings.  I do not dress my dog in clothes and I will never book a photo shoot for my dog alone.  I am actually horrified when people take their dog to the pet store to take pictures with Santa.  Not that long ago, a single acquaintance of mine from high school posted pictures of a photoshoot on facebook.  All the photos were of her and her two dogs.  This actually creeps me out.  So let me explain it like this: Every day when I choose something to be thankful for, whatever I randomly choose is what I am going to focus on.  My parents may not come for twenty days or they may come tomorrow.  Today I choose Mia, my dog.  

Mia is a four year old German Shepherd and let me tell you, she is truly awesome.  My husband and I chose Mia when she was only six weeks old.  She was seriously the cutest thing I have ever seen (as far as puppies go) and seemed completely healthy.  But when Mia was three months old she almost died from parvo, an extremely deadly canine virus.  Less than 20% of dogs survive this virus.  Therefore, Mia is a fighter.  Coming out of parvo alive gave Mia a new lease on life and in return she chose to love people unconditionally.  

Let me further explain why Mia is a marvel.  Mia is a 90 pound german shepherd.  She could destroy any thing (including people) that stands in her way.  Mia will accidentally bump into me and I will bruise.  She could drag me across the yard on her leash without blinking an eye; she is that strong.  However, Mia is the most gentle and affectionate dog I have ever seen.  She has never shown signs of aggression and she is great with children. 

How does Mia relate to my infertility?  You see, I truly believe that dogs are angels.  They are one of the greatest gifts that God gave to mankind.  Like I said in my previous post,  Nick can get uncomfortable when I get emotional about infertility and he at times doesn’t feel up to talking about it.  Mia however, will always listen and never criticize.  There have been so many times that I would be crying and Mia would come up to me and lick the tears off of my face.  Sometimes she will be in another room and hear me sob.  She will come in and lay by my side of the bed.  Sometimes, she will even lay her head in my lap.  I’m not really sure if I could have gotten through these last few years without her.  She has eased some of the pain and made the void not so empty.  I completely understand the saying that dogs are man's best friend.

As a Catholic, I was taught to believe that animals do not have souls and therefore do not go to heaven.  This always bothered me because I thought of Mia and how she was more deserving of heaven than a lot of people.  A religion teacher I used to work with put me at ease.  He said, “When we pass, all aspects of our soul go to heaven if we are worthy.  Dogs do not have their own souls, but instead are an extension of their masters’ souls.  So when your time comes to pass, your dog will be with you in heaven.”  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole."  ~Roger Caras