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Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Mommy Ache, Assurance, and the Fear (Part Two)

I want to be a mommy.

PCOS is the leading cause of infertility, and I was diagnosed when I was 16 (and have had it since I was 12) so I've dealt with the idea I'd never be a mom biologically.  I love adoption and have hoped for years to adopt someday.  When I met Ryan, I introduced him to the idea of adoption, which he had embraced.  But we mainly discussed having both biological and adopted children. That'd be the ideal.

And there's a big difference between not getting pregnant and adopting and knowing God can open and close the womb... and not having a womb at all anymore.  To never even have the chance to get pregnant even once in my life. And if I had cancer, I might lose my uterus.

It didn't help that while I was freaking out about this a little, I'd gone and spent time with my friend Tabitha's beautiful baby boy, which really ignited my hormones.  I mean, last year when 40 people I knew gave birth (no exaggeration) I already sort of got a small case of baby fever. It was in the air or something. But when you're holding a baby and watching it nurse a bottle... bouncing him to stop his fussing... watching him giggle... carrying him on your hip.
Jordan (about a month ago, I didn't take any current pics)

It's a whole new level of maternal instinct then looking at friend's cute baby pictures.

I also worried about Ryan.  In a few ways.  First, he is a big fixer, a do-er, an action man. And I needed his shoulder to cry on, but I had to tell him "Baby, all you can do is pray." And pray I know he did. But he hates when I tell him that. He'd rather be thrown in an arena and fight a lion bare-handed.  Well. Maybe.

Second, he wants biological kids more than me. That's not to say I don't want them. I do, I do! It's just with the PCOS I did tell myself "You'll be okay if you never do"... for years before I met him. Plus, he wants at least two biological kids.  Personally, I could be very happy with many... or with one. I kind of just want the experience of pregnancy and breast feeding and whose nose does the baby have? I'm fine with having it more than once, and with prayer and grieving I'd reconcile myself to never at all. But Ryan wants at least one boy and at least one girl biologically.

So what did I do when I started freaking out? I turned to God.  Which is the right thing to do.  I was also talking to Ryan intermittedly.  And that resulted in the night that birthed this post. It was amazing. God was speaking to me left and right.  From blogs I was reading to the things on tv. It all wove together until I was forced to close my eyes and raise my hands and just cry out in praise. And I was left with an assurance He'll be with me, and what I'm going through is for His glory.

The fear left, for a time.  But as anyone knows, waiting has a way of wearing a person down. So I knew my ultrasound wasn't until Tuesday and I was not patient. And it came back. And I'd chase it away and it'd come back. But God had given me assurance. Not assurance, as Ryan wanted to proclaim, that I didn't have cancer. But assurance that God had a purpose and a plan and it'd all be to His Glory. He was with me. So I clung to that. He gave me that night to cling through during the week between it and my appointment (and onward.)

Do you know that song "The cat came back?" Well for me it's like "The fear came back. The very next day. Thought he was a goner but the fear just wouldn't stay away..."

I hate admitting stuff like that. As a Christian I tend to fall into the trap of "don't admit your weaknesses because if you do, it shows you're pitiful and small and you're not really relying on God, you're not holy enough, you suck as a Christian. God will only be glorified if you keep that to yourself and only show peace and joy to others."  Yeah, but that's a lie.  I mean, I am pitiful and small and sometimes I'm not really relying on God and I'm not holy enough and sometimes I can suck big.  But God does glorify himself through the pitiful and small and sucky. And the truth was, when I felt the fear overwhelm me I did call out to God.  And so even though I suck, I'm persevering. And I need to share this with you because if I fell into that Christian trap then the liar might say to another Christian reading this, my brother or sister, "Look how she relies on God and never fears. Now look at you, you're so small and pitiful and you're not really relying on God and..." You get the idea. So to end the lie, I know I have to tell you.

But I hate to do it. It's totally pride, which is a sin, but I wish I was perfect enough that I didn't fear through this.

This is part two of three, and three is coming shortly. (If you  missed part one, here it is.)

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