Friday, 25 May 2012

Breaking through

The sun's been shining the past few days and the weather's lovely and warm! Isn't it funny how this weather can make you feel so much better?

Or maybe it's not the weather at all? I attended a conference at the weekend. The title was 'what's your story?' I was absolutely dreading it and even entertained the idea of not going at all. I don't know why. Was I scared of breaking down, of not being able to hold it together or of being completely closed and angry and getting nothing from it. I'm not sure but I really didn't want to go.
I have amazing friends who I spoke to about my concerns and I knew that I could trust them completely and not have to worry about being honest in front of them. This is something I often worry about - I worry that my pain will make other people uncomfortable and they'll isolate themselves from me. This didn't happen though.
One of the speakers at the conference had lost a baby boy in very similar circumstances to Emilie's death. Her story and the way she dealt with things had a massive impact on me and something has clicked in me this week. I am still desperate for a baby. I still want to be pregnant now and pray for a miracle but I feel strangely at peace with the way things are at the moment.
I'm thankful for my amazing friends, for my husband and beautiful little boy and for this gorgeous weather. I'm thankful for all the amazing people God's put in my life to support me through this!

Monday, 7 May 2012

Another knock...

We found out today, for certain, that our fertility treatment hasn't worked this cycle. It's so hard to keep getting back up after being knocked down so many times. I have been thinking about this this week - a friend shared it with me:

Psalm 143:4-6 (NLT)
4I am losing all hope; I am paralyzed with fear. 5I remember the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.

I know it's true. I can see what God has done. I have just come back from taking Sam to the toilet before bed. I had to prize a butterfly hand puppet off his hand before lifting him out of bed and it made me smile. As I lifted him up, I was struck by what a miracle he is. The news at the hospital is so unbelievably bleak at the moment that I can't understand how I possible got pregnant with him and how he survived the pregnancy. I look at photos of Emilie and wonder at the miracle of getting pregnant with her naturally. And that brings me back to today. Hearing the words from the sonographer 'looking at the results from your scans there's no indication that this cycle will be ovulatory. I think we need to call it a day and cancel this cycle'. What a blow. Back to square 1 and needing to increase my meds. It feels like it's not what I need at the moment at all. I know that I'm overcome with fear, this is completely out of my control and that scares me. I am scared that they'll have cancelled this cycle too early & that I would have ovulated. There's no way of knowing if that will/would happen and that makes me feel uneasy. I am struggling to trust the medical professionals and I'm struggling to trust that God knows what is best for me. I need to cling onto that scripture and remember what God has done. Heaven seems completely silent for us at the moment so remembering and clinging is all I have left.