The Lillies of the Field (did not hyperventalate)

Written on March 23, posted on March 31

Today is March 23. I have a devotion book that I received from my sister Sarah, and today's message touched me.

I am a God of both intricate detail and overflowing abundance. When you entrust the details of your life to Me, you are surprised by how thoroughly I answer your petitions.

Intricate detail...He designed this body, and knows why it isn't working. He knows every fiber of my being. And in abundance are His resources, His gifts of healing, and His attention. I need to trust that the details of this journey (right now the worry and fear of cost is dominating my thoughts).

I take pleasure in hearing your prayers, so feel free to being Me all your requests. The more you pray, the more answers you can receive.

I'm stuck at "all" of my requests. I almost want to say, "Are you sure?...Because I am super needy." Is it true that the more we pray, the more we will receive from Him?

Best of all, your faith is strengthened as you see how precisely I respond to your specific prayers.
Right now, I am running on empty in the faith department. I know I can't expect anything from Him if I don't believe with my whole heart.

Because I am infinite in all My ways, you need not fear that I will run out of resources.Abundance is at the very heart of who I am.
I know that God can't run out of anything, because He built and created everything. I need to remember the lillies of the field. None of them ever freaked out about anything, and neither did the birds. I have got to start believing that He loves me too and will provide just as abundantly for me.

Come to me in joyful expectation of receiving all that you need--and sometimes much more! I delight in showering blessings on my beloved children.
When I think of joyful expectation, I think of being a kid having a birthday party. I remember what it was like getting ready for that day, seeing your friends, and opening presents. God wants to give us presents. God wants to give me presents, too. Right? God wants to give me my heart's desire? What if children are not part of the plan he has for my little family? If it isn't, Lord, please help me realize that and accept it sooner rather than later.

Come to me with open hands and heart, ready to receive all that I have for you.
I'm going home this weekend to have my Poppa and my patriarch give us a special blessing and administration. I need to have joyful expectation like I am going to a birthday party. I hope that the Lord gives me a present that I understand.

The Princess' New Clothes...(didn't matter)

Three days before my appointment...

I received some _________(fill in the blank, I don't have a pleasant or polite take on this yet) news just a few days before my appointment that disoriented my courage and calm. Convulsing with disappointment, and ugh- the dreaded emotion I despise more than anything...envy, I cried and raged into my pillow. Another "unexpected, unplanned, accidental" pregnancy that wasn't exactly occurring on the peripheral was announced. My heart and mind immediately went to my grandparents whom I adore with my whole soul. What causes a significant portion of my grief and angst over this situation is that they might not ever hold my babies. But now they probably will hold this one. My Poppa might not be here to bless my babies...but will probably be blessing this one. My babies might not have their pictures taken with their great grandparents, but this one probably will. It's typical Mre-Proctocal to throw a raging fit and cry "why me?" or in this case, "why not me". I don't think these "special reactions" will ever completely stop, but their length is shortening as I continue to grow (up). After the sob-fest, I realize and remember that probablies and maybes are useless. I am reminded too, that God doesn't give people babies because they are nice people, who have good jobs, who are Christian or because they are educated. He doesn't give babies because people "deserve" them. They aren't rewards, and they aren't punishments. And this particular situation? I wouldn't have wanted this person's life over mine in another other circumstance, so why start now? So I won't. Thank you, mom for chasing me around the house with a Xanax, and to my sister Sarah for peeling me off the ceiling and turning my pillow over when it got soggy, my sister Autumn and cousin Jenny for talking with me on the phone.  

One day before...

Before the visit to the clinic, I caught myself in a familiar pattern that I'm having trouble labeling. It's either denial or stupidity, or a naive combination of both. As I've mentioned before, I convince myself that if something looks pretty, nothing bad can happen to it. So, the night before our consultation, my cousin Lydia and I made a ton of breakfast food: a sausage egg casserole, potatoes with green and red peppers, fresh fruit, orange juice and raspberry yogurt. I bought a new outfit from Maurice’s. New jeggings (highly recommended by the way) a white tank top that went under a springy green lace tank top and a little chocolate milk colored jacket. I felt confident and prepared.

The morning of...

I threw up before we got in the car, and my doctor could have cared less about my jeggings...he still conducted an ultra sound and took 13 tubes of blood. (I'm sure if he would have noticed my super cute earrings along with everything else, he would have thought, no this girl is too put together and she's SO NICE! I don't need to see anything here...right?!) It's always such a shock when this defense mechanism doesn't work, I honestly don't know why I continue to feed it.

During...

Dr. Simckes asked us questions. We asked him some too. Some of those were super fun for Curt to answer in front of my parents (I'm sure they will sleep better understanding the complexity incorporated with sperm count and motility as it pertains to their son in law) We all had put money on which "fertility phrase" was going to get my dad out of his chair and back into the waiting room. To their credit, both men stayed put and endured to the uncomfortable end. No one giggled either when Dr. Simckes waved a model of the female reproductive organs around like a flag while he explained how they worked. (Seriously, we filmed this whole thing- its classic.)

His first direction was to rule out 2 genetic factors; one was clotting and the other would account for multiple pregnancy loss, hence the 13 tubes of blood. The ultra sound was equally pleasant (Curt's first experience with that realm too) but showed no signs of abnormality to explain this (temporary!) infertility.

After...

We have been since told that my blood work was all normal. He would like to schedule an operative laparoscopy before June to address endometriosis. Where we go from there is dependent upon the results from that surgery and the tests related to it. If I do not have endometriosis, then it's back to the drawing board which points towards IVF. If I do, then hopefully the surgery will put everything back in its proper place and it will just be a matter of time.

Today...

I am not sure what today is quite yet...I am becoming myself, one day at a time.

Cradle of Stones and a Bluebonnet Story

This weekend I spent laughing and visiting with my friend Nikki from back home. There are certain places that I have to take those who visit us in Branson: Dicks 5 and 10 is among them. It is every ADHD child/adults dream. It is a cracker jack box of primary colors, it's a circus of pop culture icons from every decade since Elvis and in between the narrow aisles and merchandise stacked upon merchansise are tourists and little tiny old people handling tokens that remind them from the past. I foud Curt in the toy aisle lost in thought, running his fingers along a box of army guys. "When we have our kids," he said, "We're going to come here to buy them toys." This is how he talks about it, through slips of hope when he remembers something from his own childhood that he wants to see a little one do just like he did, specifically a pirate ship made of legos. This Christmas I found a pirate lego ship kit on line and ordered it for him. He sat alone at the kitchen table and built a ship that came with a shark and a treasure chest that had a hinge and four plastic diamonds you could set inside. I wasn't much for playing with toys as a child, but Sarah and I were into stories, art, plays, music, creating anything with paper and crayons (I loved the smell of crayons and couldn't stand for them to be dull or not in rainbow order...except when I was going through an alphabetical phase). I wandered around the store looking for something that I would want to pass on if we did have children of our own. In the very back corner of the store were some story books. Curt and I played with the ones that had puppets in them and we laughed as he experimented with giving barn animals different voices. He is going to be so great at this...on a shelf next to some Nancy Drew books was a picture book called, "The Legend of the Bluebonnets". Recognition and familiarity immediately rushed to my eyes and heart. This story was a story that we had heard all through growing up from "Claire tapes". Claire was a story teller in Texas who lived in a beautiful old barn made into a house in the middle of a big grassy field. She had an old paint horse. My Poppa and Granny would have her read Sarah and I stories and record them. We listened to them until they couldn't be listened to anymore. I bought the book with intentions to give it to my sister, Sarah (I haven't bought anything for "someday baby" in a year) who has been collecting Claire's story books. I read it before I went to sleep, and woke up thinking about it. I brought it to work with me this morning, the book having gained a new purpose overnight. Before the school day started, I found a particular student that had been placed on my heart. I called the child to my desk and asked him if he would do me a favor. He was very unsure of the situation and hesitant- he thought he was in trouble. I said, "You know how when y'all ask me if we are ever going to have kids, and I say no because we teach and that pretty much ruined it for us?" (side note: My kids KNOW that I am joking. It's a defense mechanism to ward off their questions. They think it's funny and say things like, "What about me, Mrs. Ivey? You can't mean me. I'm sure you want 10 just like me." And then we joke about this back and forth.) The boy at my desk says slowly, "Yesssss..." I can't look at him because I don't want to cry. "Because we don't have any of our own, we sometimes want to share things with other kids that we would have passed on to our own. You understand?" He nods again and says that yes he does understand. "You would be doing me a very big favor if you took this little book from me," I tell him. "I was read this story when I was a little girl. I think you'll like it to." He smiled a little and says, "Sure." And then he gave me a little hug before he went to his first hour. A little bit of mothering went a lovely long way for me today. I hope against hope that this little boy treasures that story, if even for just today.

On the way to work this morning, I asked God, "What can be worse than an empty cradle?" He said to me right away, "A cradle full of stones." He went on to tell me that every worry was a stone filling up a cradle and I keep carrying it around, setting it down only when it becomes unbearable, but then back up again in my arms. "You cherish those stones. You love them, you coddle them, you cry over them, you worship them and cradle them." If I never become a biological mother, may the Good Lord who created me send me thousands of little boys and girls who would honor me by taking a token of my own childhood, or sharing their childhood with me. I was a mother today, if only for a moment. And I am in love and in awe of how wonderful the experience was.

A Very Full Cup

I could not sleep at all last night. After I wrote last night, babies were on the brain and so were my worries about how people were going to react. I don’t know what I was expecting…hate mail? I guess I was waiting for condemnation, or even worse: someone thinking (then voicing) that we deserved this and this was all some sort of “come-uppance”. I couldn’t have underestimated my friends and family more… I have the most full cup ever! If I am ashamed of anything, it is that I painted myself into a corner and waited for judgments. Thank you for meeting me where I am and for offering such strong words of hope and courage.

I heard from parents of students past and present, colleagues, friends from high school and Chili’s- it has been overwhelming in the most wonderful, sweet way! I received emails all day long full of faith, hope, prayers, support- and not one person judged me.  I do not know how I managed to gather such loving and caring people throughout my life.

You and the time you took to read our story are beyond price.

Until March 15, may God repay you several times over for how sweet you’ve been to me.