"Tim, are we ready to do this?"
"Yep, Let's do this." he replies.
Wait...
Can we afford this?
What's it cost again? HOW MUCH?
Well, I guess the price went up, huh?
Tim reasures me, "Babe, we can do this!!"
OK.OK.OK.
Physically, ready.
Emotionally, ready.
Scared.
Anxious.
Excited.
Buckle Up. We are ready to take a ride.
"So, Doc, what happened last time?" I ask curiously. "We had 14 eggs fertilized and only two made it to five days. Then, of course, we only ended up with one."
"Well, as I looked back on your chart, it looks like all the eggs disintegrated." was her reply.
"REALLY?" I thought aloud. I was surprised.
She noticed my concern. "This time we are going to give you LESS medicine. That should give you less quantity but better quality."
Wow. Ruby was from that same In-Vitro Fertilization.
"Babe, can you believe that?" I asked. "Ruby is truly a miracle."
OK. Great news. Today is finally the last day on this birth control pill. Those 26 days were not fun. Now it's time for the serious stuff.
Time for the shots.
Wondering, I ask, "OK, Babe, do you remember how to give me those shots?"
"Of course," he says confidently,
"It's just like riding a bike, huh?"
Deep breath in and out.
I tell myself to think of something else...
Inside my mind I am whimpering, "Oh, that stings! It's burning!"
And... that's it.
"That was fast, babe." I encourage.
"Good job."
We do this all over again 12 hours later.
We go up to Omaha again tomorrow. This time we do another lab and ultrasound. No need to get a babysitter.
Can you believe that in ten days I could be pregnant?! Oh, Man. It seems to be going fast!!
I'm so excited!
"Babe, just a few weeks ago I was really anxious." I tell Tim. I hate that feeling. It felt like I couldn't get a deep breath. I would stop what I was doing and take a deep breath, trying to control my feelings. I had to ask myself what my problem was. It was kinda gnawing in the back of my head. A feeling I was wanting to ignore.
Just then it hit me.
Emily, you have to give this up. Give this to God. It's going to be a bad fight if you do this alone.
Trust Him.
Trust Him.
Emily, you have to give this up. Give this to God. It's going to be a bad fight if you do this alone.
Trust Him.
Trust Him.
That day things changed.
I gave it up.
I asked for peace.
I received a peace that I can't explain.
Anxiety is a terrible feeling.
It can steal your joy.
It makes you focus on yourself. You can be sucked into a state of busyness and restlesness all at the same time.
You miss seeing the good things because your trying to feel better.
Just then.
IT was GONE.
Felt like someone had takin a bullet to that feeling inside me a killed it.
Peace replaced it.
Tim and Ruby are waiting in the waiting room in the doctor's office. I head back to get lab work done and another ultrasound. Today is day three on the shots. That means we've already gone through $900 in medicine. In that very short time that money slipped through our hands.
But you wanna know something?
That money means nothing to us compared to wanting a child.
It could of been three times that amount and we wouldn't have blinked an eye.
Meanwhile, I'm looking at Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's family of seven, wondering if they went through in vitro or something like that? If so, it was just pocket change for them.
I catch myself admiring them. Why? Not for their fame or fortune or looks or anything as petty as that. But because they have what we want so bad.
Children.
The doctor comes in the room. Once again, I'm literally in a uncomfortable postion.
She says "Are you ready?"
Yep.
"Oh Em..."
She looks at me through the top of her glasses. She starts shaking her head as if I had just done something that deserved a grounding.
With great disappointment she says...
"You have a runaway follicle."
...a runaway what?
"No, I don't." I argue. "It's right there...I see it." (I've seen those black,and white screens enough) "Actually I think that follicle looks big and perfect." I replied with my two cents.
"That's the problem," she responded.
"It's too big, too soon."
"So... we can't do it this time?"
No. Sorry.
I try to lean closer into the black and white screen, forgetting that I'm connected to this device.
I recline back and try to process how that could be possible.
Grilling her for answers. She can't explain it.
"This just happens sometimes." she tells me.
This just happenes sometimes. I can't deal with "this just happens sometimes."
No explanation. After all the testing, drugs, and studying my body, that's all I get.
Still feelling a indescribable peace. I'm also left with feeling a natural disappointment and again another road block for us wanting to have children.
Our desire to have children is so strong that it hits the very core of my husband's and my heartstrings. We have longed and waited for our children. Been face down in prayer. Sometimes I catch myself begging for children.
I believe He's not saying, "No." He's just saying, "Not now."
I tell myeslf to remember that weight that was lifted off of my chest.
It's not about me and that's a hard truth to swallow.
It's never been about me.
Sweet Jesus, mend my heart.
Something too hard is simple for you. Nothing is too difficult for you.
I will rest my emptiness in you.
So now what?
We wait.
I believe I'll gain a strentgh from what is so hard to handle.
Refining.
Refining.
I don't like refining.
You Give and Take Away.
and yes,
I will praise you in the storm.
