Sorrow may last for the night but joy comes in the morning

I am back.

I think Kelsey may be popping in with a blog today, but I didn't confirm. So Kelsey, if you see this, post away. Or post tomorrow. Post whenever you want. Everyone is asking me how you are doing. Tell us! :)

I am still trying to determine if my return to my own blog is good or not for the future of the “Life in the Polar North” blog. This past week, while I was away, I had more hits on my blog in a one week period than I have ever had! More hits the week that I didn’t post.

Go figure.

With my return, also, comes JB’s untimely departure. He, his brother Matt, and three friends: Ronnie, Sean, and Ajit, are heading six hours north for a camping expedition, where, I know, it’s hard to believe, the weather is even colder than it is in Rochester. They are leaving very early on Monday morning and will return on Thursday.

Right now, it is Sunday, and we just got home from a long weekend in Chicago. JB took his Clinical Skills Test for Step II of his Boards. It is the last national test he will have to take in medical school. We visited with tons of family and picked up John's brother Matt from Midway airport this morning. It was a wonderful weekend. Kathleen took us to a Dairy Farm where I saw my first calf being born. That was ... interesting.

To my guest bloggers, who so perfectly entertained while I was away, a thousand thank you’s. We all have our different opinions of who best entertained during my absence, however, if we go according to hits, it was the “girl who never wins anything”, Tara, who’s blog-day got the most daily hits. Congrats Tara. She only won by 7 hits, and only I know who finished second.

I won’t go into second through last place mainly because I don’t want to hurt Josh’s feelings if he didn’t finish very high. Secondly, Tara, pointed out some fallacies with the “hits = winner” idea. She, for instance, posted first thing in the morning. This meant that visitors came in once, saw her post, and left, pleased. Justin posted later in the day. This meant that people may have returned for a second look, or even a third, as they tapped their toes and urged him on. Justin then noted that Gabbi used trivia to up her hit number. Only Gabbi knows if that was truly her intention. Josh was just upset in general. Lesley didn’t worry at all of course, as she never does, and Kelsey, well, I am still waiting to see if Kelsey will grace us with her presence.

Aaaaah. Okay, the formalities complete, on to business.

I have to tell you, first, that last Tuesday was, a very rough day. I was glad we decided to keep our dinner plans with Sean and Tara later that evening. It was a welcome respite from hours of crying. There comes a point when your body says, “If you cry, once more, you will split a rib or burst a blood vessel.” My body was there. I spent the afternoon after we received the results, working on RLSF’s webpage. It is brain-dead work that I could do without having to pay much attention. I took breaks to talk via email or instant messenger to a few of you, to answer the door as the flowerman came and went (they were beautiful!), and to talk to Kristi, seemingly the one person that I was able to generate words with that afternoon (other than JB).

Now I say all this to say, that I was at the bottom. I was frustrated a hundred times over. JB, “Mr. Optimism”, who can always see the silver lining, was not impressed with how grey this particular cloud seemed as well. I was done with trying to have children. I was mad that this meant so much to me. I was tired of shots and appointments and the invasion of physicians into such a personal area of our lives. I was having some heated discussions with God. I was trying, as best I could, to figure out what we should do next. Go back for our one embryo and then close this book was my immediate feeling. If God wanted to bless us without medicine, so be it. I was done with doctors. Did they realize how hard it was to listen to another message (the ninth time, but who’s counting?) featuring disappointing news. The nurse told me that not only was I not pregnant but that they considered anything above a number “5” pregnant, and I was .0005. Hmmmph. Definitely not pregnant.

I screamed to the Lord for direction, for peace, for comfort, for anything to make sense of this. John was right there with me. His feelings perfectly mirrored mine. We actually talked very little. We both knew exactly what the other was feeling. We felt completely exhausted and weary and worn. Enough was enough.

Yet again, I had made “cycle partners” with women on my online discussion board. Yet again, the woman I followed had a positive result, and I had a negative. Each time I have connected with someone, and we vowed to pray for each other, I celebrated with them and grieved for myself. I was jealous yet again.

Throughout the day people kept sending me emails telling me they were praying. This offered me comfort, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t know which end was up during these hours. People have been praying we’d get pregnant too.

My new friend Jenny, currently resting with sticky babies in her own womb, wrote and told me that these were the years the locusts had devoured, and the Lord had promised to restore them. She was referring to a scripture in Joel.

Joel 2:24-26 24 "The threshing floors will be filled with grain; the vats will overflow with new wine and oil. I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten — the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm [a] — my great army that I sent among you. 26 You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the LORD your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed."

Her words perfectly met me where I was. Yes! These years feel so heavy. I am so weary.

I remember when my dad’s father passed away. I remember my grama being so strong at the funeral and telling me that a lot of people must have been praying for her to be that strong because she could have never done it on her own.

I had an experience with what prayer felt like. As soon as I started telling people, I started feeling better.

When I woke up Wednesday morning, the clouds just didn’t look so dark anymore. As of Wednesday morning, I felt like people were holding me up themselves, with their own hands. From Florida and Illinois and New Mexico and Indiana and Texas and Kentucky and all over the U.S. (Even the Polar North.) I felt strong. The grief was waning.

I am okay. We are okay. I say that, and I mean that. It’s hard not to doubt prayer works when you don’t see it answered the way you want it to be answered. But Wednesday, my prayer for peace and guidance and direction was answered. It was as if God was saying, “See Wendi, I am here. I’m walking with you.” Things cleared up. My sadness dissipated – a sadness that had taken weeks to get over the first time. Weeks to get over the first eight times. In twenty-four hours, I was feeling upbeat and positive and, yes, that we could harvest again.

We now plan to harvest again in November. We’ll try again.

I have to wonder if this is what people were praying for us. If people were praying that we would try again, because Wednesday morning, things became very clear, and we both knew what we should do.

I will start my new medications and shots within a few days. It’s amazing that after so much waiting for past cycles, I feel like this one is coming very fast. We will harvest and then three days later, transfer again. We are currently discussing the number to transfer as it appears that they will do ICSI (this is the process where they “force” one egg and one sperm together.) ICSI should increase the number of embryos that actually do fertilize due to our “sperm binding” issue. I am also not sure, until we meet with the doctor, if he will again advise us to only transfer two sticky babies or if we will be allowed to move to three because of our two failed attempts.

Not only am I returning in November, but, ironically, JB will on his REI (reproductive endocrinology) rotation in November. He is doing a rotation in my doctor’s office, doing procedures on other women, talking to women just like me, the month that I will also be there. We aren’t really sure how this will work. He will actually be in the office when I come in for my appointments. Weird.

Some people may wonder why we don’t wait a bit. As I have mentioned before, our tests are still current. If we wait longer than the first week of January, we will have to re-run all those tests. Something that is financially, emotionally, and physically taxing. In addition, we are still at Mayo and still have Mayo’s 50% infertility insurance. If we move to Eglin, our insurance at Mayo will be terminated June 1st. We want to move forward while this only costs half as much as it does otherwise.

During the next six weeks, JB has given me homework. A book entitled Mind over Mood that they use with their psychiatric patients. (Says a lot about me, huh?) We are also looking into some alternative therapies and non-pharmacologic approaches to dealing with possible migraines and stress associated with these procedures. Everything seems so simple right now. But when those hormones start raging, I want it to still feel simple.

I have no reason to worry. This is completely out of my control. So I just need to trust. Thank you for praying for me everyone. I feel it. Please don’t stop praying for me to have peace and comfort. I really need it, and your prayers, really work. I know some of you are growing frustrated, like me, asking God how long you have to pray. Feeling Him during these days reminded me that prayer really does work.

They say the third time is a charm, right? That’s what I’m praying for.

Look for another post tomorrow. I have to regain control of my territory.

Blessings,

Wendi