Changes are afoot in our household.
First, we've decided not to pursue moving at this time. We felt like the situation created too tenuous a position between us and DH's parents, and overall we did not have peace about the timing. So I guess the change is that we're NOT changing this.
Second, I have resigned my job from the non-profit I for which I worked for 5 years. I've long felt disrespected and under-appreciated, but stayed because I care about the cause and felt like what I was doing mattered. Some things happened this week that just confirmed that it's no longer a good fit for me or for them. Pray for me as I transition. I struggle a lot with feeling significant and I experienced some struggle when I left the non-profit before. I've always found a great amount of satisfaction in what I do; I'm good at it and it's for a cause dear to my heart. It's hard for me to feel significant as a housewife and a secretary (my other job). Don't get me wrong-my husband is a wonderful man to serve with and my pastor is a wonderful boss. But really, whose life was ever changed by a secretary? Did vacuuming ever save anyone's life? I know that my significance is in the Lord, but I guess in this particular area, I'm wired more male than female in that I assign a lot of significance to my job. As I've struggled with childlessness, my job has helped me a lot. In my opinion, parenting is the most important job in the world, and the only one I ever wanted. As I've not had that, having something else to do that I thought really mattered in this world helped me a lot. It's hard to feel like what y0u do matters when your daily activities consist of housecleaning and clerical tasks. So, please just pray for my protection from that. And pray for the organization, too, as they transition and develop a new fit with a new person.
Our friend Mike has another new tumor spot. That hit me really hard yesterday. Whenever something like that happens, the reality of the timeline of life jolts me. But beyond that, of course we're upset for him and for his family. Please, please, please, continue to pray for a miracle for them.
People ask me how I'm feeling about this next transfer. Honestly, between the time I got the date, and the time I got the news about the new tumor, I was doing really well. I was excited and filled with wonder, and I didn't seem to have a lot of the cynicism and fear and worry that I had with transfer number 2.
But once we got that phone call, I was immediately filled with fear. During Mike's last tumor and hospitalization, we spent a lot of time caregiving for his kids. A lot of time--far more time than we could have ever given them if we had our own young children to parent. God made it pretty clear to us that a major reason our transfer didn't work before was that He needed us to be available for this dear family. And we were grateful to do it-those kids light up our lives like no one else, and we love their family dearly. Now, knowing that he's sick again, I am filled with fear. I'm literally petrified. I fear that God will say no again now for the same reason as before. Like this whole thing is just going to be deja vu all over again. The fear goes from the pit of my stomach, up to the dark corners of my brain and down into feet that now feel like lead, unable to move. I've never had this kind of overwhelming sense of worry. I'm worried about Mike, I'm worried about our babies, and I'm worried about reaching my breaking point if God breaks out hearts again.
Miscarrying our girls was the most traumatic thing I've ever experienced. The failed transfer was the second. I'm so afraid of enduring it again. These weren't just some clinical science products to us. They were our babies, who we love with all our hearts.
So I don't know what all that means. We obviously don't want to proceed without peace. On the other hand, after one loss, I'm not sure that at least a baseline level of fear ever goes away, so if I wait for that, it will never come. And at the end of the day, regardless of whether or not we ever meet any of these children here on earth, it's still our responsibility to thaw and transfer them and get them out of frozen limbo and give them a chance at life. We owe them that, regardless of a pregnancy outcome. So even if every single transfer fails, not going through with one just postpones the inevitable, because I refuse to leave my babies in the state they're in. I guess just sometimes I feel like I'm more of a processing plant than a mom.
Mother's Day is the loneliest day in the whole world. Please pray for me, and for all women who suffer from infertility, as we approach it. There is no celebration for mothers whose children are dead or for those whose children have yet to come. But every time you turn around, you're smacked with a silly facebook status update, a television commecial, a store promotion, etc, etc. During this season, it just feels like the whole world has what you want, and everyone and everything is out to remind you of that. And we still do need to put our own feelings aside and honor our own moms, so please, just pray for us.
As downer of a post as this sounds, we are well in other regards. And in an update to a previous post, it does feel like my knee is getting better, so hopefully, we'll have avoided surgery.
I've got to scoot-we're having dinner with the fam tonight! I hope you all are well!