2016: A New Hope or The Darkness Strikes Back?

This year. I can't sum it up in words, more like guttural utterances and tears, with a few profanities strewn in. On top of our personal crises, which included the death of my beloved Sadie and several rounds of failed fertility treatments, we had a number of celebrity deaths, Brexit, the Trump campaign, hurricanes, terrorist attacks, the growing crisis in Syria, and probably a lot more than I'm forgetting. The world feels darker now. My anxiety has been ramped up considerably. My coping has been shaky at best. Despite a couple of high points such as my graduation (which was somewhat marred by my cat's death the day before) his year will go down as a bad one in my life.

On Friday, I went to do something I had really been looking forward to: a friend date to see the film Rogue One. You see, I have been a Star Wars junkie since I was quite small. I grew up enjoying the exploits of Han, Leia, and Luke. Just before meeting my friend, I learned that Carrie Fisher had suffered a heart attack, and on Tuesday her death was announced, followed by her mother's death the following day. I grieve. I was then reminded of this post from one year ago today, when I was feeling low about the year that was, and found a sliver of hope in watching Star Wars, Episode 4: A New Hope. I wrote these words, which feel ridiculously optimistic after the year that we just experienced: "So maybe it's there, somewhere, that hope. Maybe I can find it and grasp it, if even for a little while."

Looking back on 2016, it feels less like A New Hope than The Empire Strikes Back. It feels like this year was spent fighting the darkness within and without. I did a year-long study of Revelation and then an autumn study on spiritual warfare, yet I feel more helpless than ever against the darkness. I feel like I'm losing and being closed in on all sides. I have prayed and sought and prayed and sought some more, but it's hard to find God in the darkness. As we close off the year, it feels like the Emperor is in charge, Darth Vader has the upper hand, and Han Solo is frozen in carbonite. All I can do is hold on to a tiny hope that this isn't the end and that this darkness will not define the rest of my life.

However, in a dark time such as this one, I am reminded that Carrie Fisher, too, struggled with dark demons, that many people consider her a powerful spokesperson for those dealing with mental illness. So in honour of Carrie, I will raise a glass to toast the end of the year that was, and go forward hoping and praying that this year will be the one when the tide turns, when the darkness ebbs, and when I find hope again. Perhaps 2017 will be the year when I learn how to fight like Princess Leia. May it be so, and may the Force be with you.

Have Yourself a Snarky Little Christmas (Card)

'Tis the season for Christmas cards. Around this time of year, we go to the mailbox and find it stuffed, not just with a gazillion flyers for things we probably don't need, but also with cards. Our mantles and fridges are decorated with images of angels and reindeer and bells, covered with red, green, and gold, and bedecked with photos of families in their holiday best, smiling in a meadow or in front of a Christmas tree. Doesn't it put a smile to your face?

It doesn't. Not to me anyway.

You might wonder why I am such a Grinch? People take time out of their busy lives and pay for postage just to wish me a happy holidays, and here I am, tossing their handiwork in the recycling bin. Am I just a horrible person who hates children and families and the true meaning of Christmas?

I've posted in the past about how difficult holidays, and especially Christmas, are to me in my infertility journey. There seems to be a societal consensus that Christmas is for the kids, that we're supposed to find the magic in watching our little ones open their gifts from Santa and experience the joys of the season. All of the radio and television ads are about children. They feature happy families putting up a tree. We all know that Christmas is about families, and those of us without children - who may never have a little one to spoil in the name of Santa - well, we can just sit back and watch everyone else share the magic.

It's no secret that this year has been extremely difficult in many ways. There were joyful moments, like when I graduated and our brief holiday in Spain, but overall, 2016 has been a hard year. Our infertility treatment failed. Our cat died. I suffered anxiety and depression. I feel like have been mired in sorrow, fighting so hard just to get one foot in from of the other while I am up to my knees in the mud and muck of loss and grief.

One of the saddest parts of this journey has been the lack of support from loved ones. When you lose a family member or get sick, people rally around you. They bring casseroles and send flowers. This has been one of the most profound grief experiences of my life, but no one sent flowers or brought around food. Very few people have acknowledged it at all. Many of our friends have faded quietly out of our life, unable to face us in our sorrow. It hurts.

So what does this have to do with Christmas cards? Well, everything. This time of year, the cards come in. People who never acknowledged our pain, who never sent so much as a two-line email telling us how sad they are for our situation, are now sending us cards with their adorable children. Maybe they think this is helpful and their way of sending love, but when you've been silent during my grief, a photograph of your happy family makes me feel like you're rubbing it in my face that you have a family and I don't. It doesn't say "I love you" to me; it says "LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN." If you haven't reached a hand down to help pull me out of the pit, then I don't want your family on my fridge. I don't have time for superficial friendships any more. I want to invest in the people who will invest in me in return. I want to spend my time and emotional effort with people who will make me feel loved and supported in my darkest days.

This Christmas, maybe I am the Grinch. I'm okay with that. I've been asking myself the hard questions this year, like why do I bother sending cards anyway? Is it out of habit, or because I truly love these people, and if so, how am I prepared to invest in those relationships in the coming year? I ask you, too, to think before you send that card. What are you trying to say with it? Is this person going through a hard time, and have you reached out at all? How are you investing in that friendship in other ways, or is it just a once-a-year, Christmas-card relationship?  Let's not just do things because we think we should. Let's make gestures that are meaningful instead.

Merry Christmas. This year, let's love harder and better.

Top Ten Tuesday: Things For Which I Am Thankful

I haven't been blogging a lot lately. My apologies. I got a bit caught up with life. I'll update more later, but I got a new part-time job, and between that, NaNoWriMo (first time doing it!), the US election, and feeling a bit overwhelmed with grief, I haven't had a lot to say about myself.

I missed last week's link-up, but I like the title and I'm in desperate need of a little gratitude in my life so I'll link up with the same topic this week: Ten Things I Am Thankful For.

Non-Bookish Things
1. I'm beyond thankful for my country. We have made many mistakes over the years, but in the past little while, I have been overwhelmed with joy that I live in a country and a city that is diverse and accepting of others. Last week, I have the privilege of celebrating with a friend who had her Canadian citizenship ceremony. When the waitress at our restaurant asked why we were all so happy, we told her. She responded with, "That's so amazing! Way to go! I don't know if I could do it, especially the test!" She then had a free dessert sent to our table. It was such a beautiful gesture of welcome, and I was very moved.

2. I'm thankful for my husband. We have been through deep waters, and I know that it has not been easy for him to grieve with me and also deal with a spouse who is deeply hurting and dealing with depression and anxiety. He has been my biggest fan every step of the way, and I am so grateful.

3. I'm thankful for my my family. Sometimes I take it for granted that parents and siblings love and support one another, but the more I see of the world, the more I realize that isn't always true. We may not always do the right things, but we have each other's back and my family is full of love.

4. I'm thankful for Neville! He brings me joy every day.

5. I'm thankful for my Christian faith. I don't talk about it that much on here because I've been wrestling a lot with God and with His plan for my life. I don't understand why He has chosen to leave us childless, and I struggle with why I have not like I fit in or was supported by the broader Church when I was in the dark hole of depression... but I know that this life is not all there is, and I am thankful that God gives me hope in the hard times.

Bookish Things:
6. I'm thankful for Overdrive and public libraries. I would probably be bankrupt if there were not so many ways to get books for free!

7. I'm thankful for Harry Potter. The books have gotten me through some very dark days, and I am looking forward to a full reread over the Christmas season.

8. I'm thankful that with the growth of ebooks, I can read a lot of the classics for free on my Kindle.

War And Peace on a summer's day

9. I'm thankful for the book blogging community, where I can always find recommendations for books that will challenge and entertain me.

10. I'm thankful for writers who go deep into research to make their stories more accurate. There is nothing more satisfying to me as a historian than reading historical fiction and finding that the writer did his/her homework.

Five

Five years ago, I married the love of my life. That sounds so dramatic and picturesque. It WAS a beautiful wedding, but Gil and I were never star-crossed lovers, but rather ordinary people who found each other in an ordinary way. He wasn't my first love, but he was my best love and will (hopefully!) be my last love.

These five years have been quite the journey. Sometimes I find it difficult to mark anniversaries because things turned out so very different from the way that I hoped and planned. There were many days when I thought the infertility struggle would break me forever. There are still long nights when I wonder why it had to be like this, and why my husband stays with me when I am barren, broken, and depressed. I look at the photos from five years ago and tears come to my eyes, not tears of joy, but of sadness for the dark days that were still ahead for starry-eyed 2011 Maggie and Gil.

But...

But...

But our story is not over. Our love is not over. I married to a man who still makes me laugh every day, even on the days when my cheeks feel permanently streaked with tears. I married a man who tells me he would do it all again, even knowing how dark the nights would be, and how much of me would be lost in the journey. When I met Gil more than seven years ago, and even when I married him five years ago, I didn't yet know that I was marrying the best man there is, one who has integrity and tenacity and pluck in spades. Because of who he is, and because of who our God is, I have faith that one day the sun will shine a little brighter, and the tears will flow less frequently, and we will find out who we are in this new state of being permanently childless. There are still hard days ahead, but today I will celebrate with my best friend.

Happy anniversary, my dearest love and my dearest friend.

Miscellaneous Updates

It's been several months since I did an update post, so in case you've been on the edge of your seat from some scintillating details about my life, here you go! :)

I'm so, so close to the end of my degree. We have three - count 'em, three - weeks of class left and I'm somewhat limping to the finish line. I have four more assignments left and I think I lost my motivation some time in February. No, really, I'm working hard to be done. I had to fill in my "intent to convocate" form recently, and it's sinking in that this is really happening. It's a bit of a bittersweet feeling, to be honest. It's been a great program, but this was always Plan B. Not a day goes by when I'm not sad that I'm in grad school instead of being a mother, and when the success of school is not a reminder of the failure to become pregnant. I'm happy, but I'm sad, and I can't look back at the last 18 months of school without also being aware that they were some of the hardest times of my life. Nevertheless, I'll keep swimming.

On the job front, I don't know if I actually posted about leaving my job at the church. It was a great run, but it was time. I was finding it increasingly difficult to juggle those responsibilities with school, and increasingly difficult to be in a family-centred workplace without children. Please, please, please do not badger your church receptionist about when she will have a baby. It is never fun to be asked about excruciatingly painful personal details when you have to put on a brave face and answer the ringing phone. Anyway, I still love the church, but it has been good to have it just be my church and not my workplace. Moving forward, I've applied to a few librarian jobs and even had an interview, but did not get that job. We will see what the future holds.

I posted a few months ago about the reality of my depression. I wish I could say that things are looking rosy, but at least I do truly believe that I am slowly getting better after finding a therapist. I'm talking about it more too. It still hurts every day, and I'm not sure it will ever stop, but the dark days are fewer than they used to be. Thank you to everyone who got in touch and extended their love.

As far as infertility goes, we may be moving forward, but I'm not ready to put it all in words yet as it's still not certain. I feel like recently I've finally accepted the fact that I will not have a big family. I always wanted 3 or 4 kids, but now that nearly 3 years have gone by trying, it's time to realize that just one child will be a miracle for us. Moreover, I can't do these three years again. I lost myself too completely and for too long to think about going down this road while trying to parent a child, so now I pray that God will give us just that one child. Gil and I have not talked much about this, but I feel like we have gotten closer in the past few months as I've been more vocal about how much I am hurting, so maybe we can be a family of two and be okay with that, one day.

Star Wars kitty. The Force is strong in him.

The only other thing worth updating about is my lovely cats. They make me smile every day, even though they also drive me nuts. Neville likes to chase Sadie around the house to play with her, which she does not particularly enjoy. They are our cuddly little furbabies and I don't think I could have made it through the last few months without them

Infertile at Christmas

I'm going to be honest here: I'm struggling with Christmas. I used to love everything about Christmas: The stockings, the tree, the nativity scenes, carols at church, snow, evening church services, coloured lights, pretty much everything except eggnog. Even when I was working in Ottawa and had to drive to Toronto at noon on the 24th, I would do so with joy because it was Christmas. The last few years, though, I find myself wishing away I could fall asleep in November and wake up in January. This isn't just wanting to get past my exams without writing them (though that would be nice). It is more a factor of the constant pain of infertility, which tends to feel more overwhelming during the holidays.

In the first place, Christmas is a time when we talk about families. I get bombarded by cards with pictures of everyone's beautiful children, often with one more child this year than last. I hear ads on the radio talking about what to get my kids for Christmas, or even what to get my husband to show him that he's a great dad. (I had to change the channel for that last one as I burst into tears on the highway.) Next to Mother's Day, I find that Christmas is the time of year when I am most reminded that I am not a mother, that I don't have a family, and that I don't fit in.

Christmas is also a time when we talk about baby Jesus. A lot. I mean, yes, Christmas is increasingly secularized, and you can get through it with minimal exposure to a manger scene, but you get what I mean. Yes, I know, the original Christmas story is about two people who were shocked and not ready to be parents and who had to start their family in terrible circumstances. Yes, I know it's Jesus and not some random baby. It's still images of babies, here and there and everywhere. There are still days when I see that nativity picture, with Mary lovingly bent over the infant Jesus, and my heart aches for the child I wanted to have, the baby whose crib I would lean over to sing lullabies, the one that I will never have. It still hurts.

Mostly though, Christmas marks the passing of time, and the whole holiday season is a chance to take stock in the year. This year sucked. Sorry, but it did. I lost a dear friend. I lost others in my life. In our family, we had serious illness, marriage separation, and conflict. In the world, we had some pretty bad things as well. I find it hard to look ahead and say that maybe 2016 will be better when I remember that in 2012, and 2013, and 2014, I went into the holidays thinking it might be my last Christmas without a baby on the way, that the coming year would bring life and joy when in fact it has brought increasing sadness. I feel like infertility has taken my ability to look ahead. I used to be one of those people who would hear about Jesus coming back and think, "Not yet. I have so much left to do." Now I understand why people yearn for His coming, because I find it so hard to find the joy in this life and it doesn't sound like such a raw deal to leave it behind.

I usually try to end posts like this on some kind of inspiring note, like, "Here's how I'm holding on to hope" or "God is still good". I don't know how to do this. I haven't given up on life and faith, but I don't have it in me to pretend that I'm not drowning each and every day. Pray for me this Christmas. More than that, pray for those around you who are lonely. Invite the childless into your home, and those without families. Remember that for many people, the holidays are hard. Love your neighbour. Share your joy.

Advocating for the Infertile: How Then Shall We Celebrate Mother's Day?

Mother's Day. There's no getting around it. It's a hard day for many people. It's difficult for those who have lost their mothers, and for those whose mothers were absent, abusive, or otherwise not great parents. It's difficult for those who have lost children, including those who have had miscarriages and carry a grief that others may not know about. It's hard for those who are far from family and long to celebrate their mothers and grandmothers. It's also very hard for those of us who long to be mothers, but for various reasons are not. That leaves me struggling with what to do with this day. Should I hole up in my house, making calls to my various mother-figures while otherwise pretending the day doesn't exist? Should I put on a brave face and act like I don't care?

This is the third year in a row in which I approach Mother's Day with the desperate prayer in my heart that next year I'll be able to celebrate, that it will be my last year not being a mother. It's easy to want to hide. All week, store displays, radio ads, television, and of course, other people have reminded me that this day is coming. I'm forced to celebrate the wonderful, selfless, giving people that mothers are, and I struggle with wanting to scream that not all mothers are selfless and giving, that many childless women (and men) are selfless too, that this binary way of looking at procreation hurts us all. So do I stay at home, angry at society for perpetuating this myth of the perfect mother whom all women should aspire to be?

It's easy to want to stay away. Many infertile women avoid church on days like today, when we know we'll end up watching our more fertile counterparts be feted while we wipe tears from our eyes. However, I chose to go. I chose to not give up meeting with my brothers and sisters, both because I know my heart needs community, and I know that community needs me. As hard as it is, as painful as it may be, the church and society need to see me too, to know that there are other kinds of women around who have needs and deserve to be supported and honoured too, even if it's not on this day. If I choose to stay away and hide my pain from them, how then can I complain that they aren't there alongside me?

So I went. I did church on Mother's Day. There were tears, and I had to leave for a few minutes, and it hurt, but I was glad. (The sermon had a Jane Austen reference too, so there was that!) As hard as it is to be a non-mother on Mother's Day, today has also been a day of joy, in which I have been so blessed by others who have seen and loved me in my pain. It's been a hard day, but a beautiful day, and I am glad I took part.

This past week marked the end of my study of the life of Moses, which we began in September. I am especially mindful of what a long and difficult journey he and the Israelites had. I was reminded this week of how when Jews celebrate the Passover, they end with the phrase, "Next year in Jerusalem," which in the darkest and and most difficult days expressed the hope of the Promised Land, the return. It is hard to find light and hope when you're traveling through the desert, and it's easy to feel it especially dark on days like today, but to my friends in this hard journey, I say, "Next year in Jerusalem." I hope that this is the last year in the dark for you and me, but if not, I wish you hope for the journey.

Do I Trust God?

2014 been a difficult year so far.  It's been good in some ways, but also difficult.  I feel like I've been in a holding pattern for a while now, wanting to move on to something new, but held back by a myriad of different factors.  If I'm honest, it has been a year in which my trust in God has been challenged and, I hope that when we come out of this phase, I will find it has been strengthened.  I have been asking myself recently if I really trust God.  I'm a Christian; I work in a church and lead at a Bible study, so it's really easy to say that I do, right?  When the going gets tough, however, so often I find myself wondering why it's so hard, and whether God is really working in this situation at all.

The big question is:  How do I know that I trust God?  Is it a gut feeling?  That doesn't seem right, because trust isn't all about feelings.  I don't get into an airplane with an overwhelming "feeling" of trusting the laws of aerodynamic.  The fact that I got into the airplane at all is evidence that I trust the plane will take off, travel, and land without risk to my life.  I don't have a gut feeling that I trust my husband, but show that I trust him by sharing my life with him without fearing that he will take advantage of me or abuse me or be unfaithful.

So how do I know that I trust God?  It's not about putting myself into dangerous situations and knowing He will protect me (although it's possible that He will require me to go into dangerous situations).  He's not the Edward Cullen to my Bella Swan, after all. ;)  Part of it is obviously obedience:  I trust God by obeying His commands, without worrying that I'm being deprived in some way.  Maybe in part, it's also a bit like trusting Gil.  I share my life with God, through prayer and Bible reading (slacking a bit on that lately...) and being mindful of Him at all times, and trusting that He will use that for my good. 

Today I planted our vegetable garden.  After our my attempts last year did not yield much, I decided to skip seeds and plant seedlings this year, seeing as our growing season is so short.  I guess that planting seed(lings) is a bit like trusting God.  You do what you can, knowing that the real "work" of growing is out of your hands, dependent on weather and sunshine and the neighbour's dog not getting into our yard.  Will I trust that God is working under the surface of my life, even if I don't know whether I will get a handful of cherry tomatoes or a bountiful harvest, but that I can trust that the growth is good?

I've been reading the book of Ruth over the past few days, and am reminded once again how the most difficult ordeals can ultimately end well.  It doesn't negate the difficult part or mean we have to pretend it was all easy, but it does mean that I can be confident that God is doing *something* through this lean year, even if that something leads to a path I hadn't anticipated.

Tips for Interacting With Your Friends Who Struggle With Infertility (Infertility Awareness Week)

Apparently it’s Infertility Awareness Week.  I had no idea!  I found this out from my dear friend over at Mama Cravings, whose post you should check out, even though it might make you weep. You’re probably tired of my rantings about infertility, but I couldn’t resist taking the opportunity this week of awareness affords to post something that’s been on my mind for a little while. Let me first preface this with the fact that I am by no means an expert, I don't speak for everyone on this journey, and as I see how long some people have been on the infertility road, I know that I can't even imagine how much harder some people's situations have been, so please don't take my word as final. 

The more I talk about infertility with people online and off-line, the more I realize how hard it is.  It’s hard for me, because I want them to understand my struggle and come alongside me, and sometimes I’m disappointed.  It’s also hard for them, because I know many people really want to support their friends through infertility, but they don’t know how, or they feel like they aren’t able to because they have children.  I get it.  I’ve realized recently that after being married 2.5 years (as of last Tuesday – wheee!), I’m no longer able to fully relate to my single friends (the ones who want to be married) they way I used to be.  I am always looking at my single years from the standpoint of having met “that special someone”.  I remember what it’s like to be single and 28, but I don’t know what it’s like to be single in the mid-thirties, and I’d imagine that’s a big difference.  I feel like anything I say could come across as trite, and that might hold me back from saying anything at all.  But following that logic, we can’t comfort or support anyone unless we’ve had that exact experience, and I don’t think that’s the case.

There are lots of posts out there of advice on what to NOT say to someone who’s fill-in-the-blank (adopting a child, has a multi-racial family, going through infertility, experienced a miscarriage, etc.)  Sometimes those are helpful, but sometimes they leave people walking on eggshells.  So what are some basic tips for relating to your friend who is going through infertility? 

Listen:  Remember Job’s friends that came to comfort him?  At first, “when they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads.  Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.”  (Job 2:12-13) It was when they opened their mouths that they got into trouble.  A listening ear can convey so much more support than your words can:  “We have two ears and one mouth, so we should listen more than we say.” (Zeno of Citium).  Because I love quotations, here's another:  Stephen R. Covey said, “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.”  Don't do that.  Just listen and be there.

Ask:  Every person on this journey has different needs.  What I like might not be helpful with someone else.  Personally, I hate being told, “I know you’ll have a child one day”, because really, you don’t know that, but maybe some people find this comforting.   One person might like being asked how treatment is going, while another might want you not to bring it up.  It sounds confusing, but don’t we all have our own unique ways to respond to trials?  Instead of trying to be a mind-reader and pouring over Google, why not just ask, “Hey friend, how can I support you in this journey?” 

Don’t give advice:  While everyone is different, I have yet to meet anyone who enjoys unsolicited advice, let alone about their most private matters.  It’s especially hard when advice comes from someone who has never actually experienced infertility first hand, notwithstanding the fact that said advice usually comes from Dr. Google. 

Be sensitive:  Remember that you don’t know who is going through this, so assume that if you know someone who is in a stable relationship and of child-bearing age, there’s a chance they may be going through infertility, and be appropriately sensitive in your interactions.  Some estimates say that one in five couples deal with infertility, so that means it is affecting a lot more people than you’re aware of.  Not only that, but there may be other very personal reasons why people aren't having children.  This means that the most well-meaning question of “When will you have a baby?” might be really really hard for someone, and you won’t know it until you ask.  (Here’s a great post by Jayme about why you might not want to ask when someone is having kids.)  I’m not saying you should recoil in terror from ever asking about family plans, but it does mean you should use common sense and consider the context: 
      Consider the context of your relationship.  Are you actually friends with this person?  I personally would welcome the opportunity to discuss this journey with people who are close to me, but I don’t want to talk about it with the FedEx delivery guy, or every staff member at my work, or my Chinese teacher (already happened).  If you would never dream of telling me your own personal struggles, perhaps you shouldn’t ask a question that could delve into mine. 
     Consider the geographical context of your conversation.  Again, it’s a sensitive subject.  How would you feel if I approached you at work in the middle of your busy work day, and said, “Oh hey Bill, here are those photocopies you asked me to grab, and by the way please tell me about your deepest unfulfilled personal longing.”  Awkward much?  If you’re going to ask me a personal question (about children certainly, but also about career satisfaction, my marriage, etc.), do it someplace where we can sit down with mugs of coffee and I can open my heart if I want to.  This place should never, ever, ever be the church lobby on a Sunday.  When I attend church, I sit around other peoples’ adorable babies for over an hour, and watch their sweet little ones running around in their best clothes.  Asking how I feel about my baby plans after church is like asking how I feel about my abs after I just watched the Miss America pageant.  I feel lacking.  Thanks for rubbing that salt in my wounds.

Be the friends that have each other's back. Literally.

I don’t think we need a special vocabulary to talk to friends dealing with infertility, any more than we need to know exactly the right words to use with someone who has lost a parent or who is going through unemployment.   These statements convey more than you can ever know:  “I care about you.  I want the best for you.  I will be there for you, no matter what.”

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.

Proverbs 17:17

On How Fertility Issues Feel Like A Trip Back to Middle School

When I was in Grade 8, it seemed like all the “cool” girls were good at basketball. Maybe they had other things in common, like crimped hair (this was 1993 after all), names that started with K, and houses on the same street. Whatever it was that united the cool girls, I didn't have it and I probably never would.

I've always been a pretty determined person. When I wanted to do something or learn a new skill, I pushed myself until I accomplished it. When I felt shyness was holding me back socially, I practiced social skills. I lived in Germany when I was 21, where I chose to attend a class called “Russian for Historians”, which involved translating sentences from Russian (my fourth language) into German (my third). The first class was so difficult for me that afterwards I went into the ladies room and cried... but I didn't drop the class. I'm not trying to brag, just to explain my personality. Sometimes this intensity has been off-putting to others, but it's gotten me where I am.

None of this determination could help when I was 13 years old, an age when popularity seemed almost randomly distributed, and trying too hard was social suicide. I could watch Beverly Hills, 90210 (duh, why wouldn't you? Luke Perry was so dreamy) or beg for new clothes, but that didn't keep me from not being invited from the end of year graduation party. (True story.)

My life has been pretty good since Grade 8, so why rehash these bad memories? In some ways, the journey of trying to conceive has made me think of the Middle School popularity scene. You can try so hard, and get nothing out of it, or you can get lucky on your first month. Sure, there are ways to better your chances, such as eating well, exercising, temperature taking, and using ovulation kits, but the truth is that infertility is kind of a crap shoot. You can do everything right and never get pregnant, while some other woman smokes, drinks heavily, has no idea about her cycle, and has six kids. There's an unfairness to it all, that makes as much sense as me spending years hiding in the bathrooms during recess because my name starts with M and I lack the hand-eye coordination to do a lay-up.

I've also discovered that having no children makes me more and more of an anomaly the further I get into my 30s. This has increased the sense of being left out. I can't hang out at playgrounds to make new friends (at least not without looking like a creep). I can't commiserate on the stresses of finding a daycare or potty training. I see so many blog posts and articles shared online with tag lines like “Parents of kids will get this”. Sometimes reading my Facebook feed feels a bit like when kids in school would tell inside jokes, then say things like, “Oh, you wouldn't get it if you weren't at Kristi's house that time.” I knew a guy all through school who became a night club promoter and posts daily about his obsession with Beyonce Knowles. I read his FB feed when I need to feel like I'm not the only irresponsible non-parent in my age group. That's not to knock my friends who share these things; it's just that being 33 and childless makes me feel more and more like I'm among the stragglers waiting to be picked in gym class, hoping and praying that I won't be chosen last.

The worst part of the equation is the sense of being alone. You know know instinctively when you're being bullied at school that the worst thing you can do is cry. You have to pretend to be strong and not care. Struggling with infertility is a constant walk of pretending to have it together. No one wants to hear about your menstrual cycles and timing issues. You're afraid to share because of the dreaded “advice” that well-meaning people dole out,* and the knowledge that after you've opened your mouth, this person will watch you for signs of pregnancy and you might spend the next months, or possibly years, having to say, “Not yet” again and again.

This is a walk in which it can get hard to see if anyone listens or cares, and even of God is there for you. I'm not saying He's not. I am a Christian and I hold tight to that faith, but there are days when I feel more alone than I've ever felt before. If this is you, please don't suffer alone. You don't have to eat lunch in the girls' room. You don't have to cry alone at night and think no one can hear. If this is you, please email me at mrsdoctordear2 AT gmail.com.  The truth is, I'm not alone either.  I have some fantastic online friends that I've bonded with throughout this process, and who keep me sane on days when I am on the precipice of losing it altogether.

And if you are a parent who has never struggled with this issue, remember your a childless friends and be mindful of this divide. You may not know they are struggling. Post some cat videos online one in a while to give a respite from the baby talk. Let them in on your pregnancy and parenting struggles, but listen to their concerns too. Be there for them. It's a long and lonely road sometimes.

*I have found this article extremely helpful in covering the etiquette around infertility.

But Baby It's Cold Outside

Gil and I flew home on Sunday morning, blissfully unaware that we were flying into a disaster zone.  Over Saturday night, Toronto was hit by a massive ice storm that has left at least 300,000 people without power.  (See here for more details.)  We came home to find our house dark and cold and it's still off as of this morning.  The hydro company says it may take until after Christmas for everyone to get their power back. 

Edit:  This evening, our power was back on!  Unfortunately, there are many in our neighbourhood that are still in the dark.

After moaning previously about how I had lost my Christmas spirit, I now feel a little silly.  There are worse things than having a husband working on a holiday and a lack of Christmas joy.  I'm lucky that my mom's house had power restored this morning, so I've been able to warm up here, but others have had to go to emergency warming stations to keep from freezing.

Ice-covered bush at Mom's house

All of this has made me more mindful of the first Christmas.  One of the pastors at my old church gave a sermon in which he said that "Do not be afraid" is one of the most repeated phrase in the Biblical account of Jesus' birth.  The real experiences of Mary and Joseph were much more emotional and tumultuous than the Christmas card glow depicts.  As I have had more and more friends with newborns, I have realized that new parents are usually stressed and tired, while new moms are also recovering from the birth.  I would imagine being a new mom in a stable or grotto was actually pretty uncomfortable and scary for Mary.  Why do we think Christmas should be about warm fuzzies and eating candy?

Anyway, I'm trying to be positive throughout this small trial in our lives.  We are so thankful to have family and friends with power to take us in, and for the house that our home and cars have not been damaged by the falling tree branches.  We are also thankful for a Saviour who came into this broken and cold world to take the burden of our sin from us so that we can spend eternity in a beautiful place with no mourning and death.

The people walking in darkness
    have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
    a light has dawned.

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9: 2, 6 

Medical Mondays: Coming Out of the (PCOS) Closet

I missed it last month, but I'm back now to link up with Medical Monday, hosted this month by Jane at From a Doctor's Wife and Emma at Your Doctor's Wife.

Today I'm getting very personal.  I try to avoid anything that brings you into the very centre of our private life, but as this issue is more about me than our marriage, I'm opening up.  In a way, I find writing about my issues is cathartic.  Disclaimer:  I'm trying not to overshare, but if you're freaked out by any mention of "lady issues", you may want to pass on this entry.

At 19 years old, I was diagnosed with Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).  I had really no idea what that meant, and as these were the days before Google, I accepted the doctor's statement that I shouldn't worry.  She put me on birth control pills to regulate my (barely existent) cycles, and I pretty much put it at the back of my mind.

Fast forward about 11 years.  When I was about to get married, I started researching PCOS, and found lots of scary stories from women who couldn't get pregnant or needed considerable interventions to have children.  (This is probably why most doctors (my hubby included) scorn WebMD and "Dr Google"!)  I became terrified that conceiving would be very difficult for us, but as we had decided to wait a year or two before trying, I again tried not to think about PCOS.

In the past few months, we've stopped using birth control to try to have a child, and my cycles have become more erratic. The last one was a full 6 weeks long.  I am becoming more and more afraid that conceiving naturally is unlikely and interventions are in our future.

PCOS is an endocrine disorder that is thought to affect 5-10% of women of reproductive age.  In layman's terms, your hormones are out of whack, which can cause anovulation (not ovulating) or irregular ovulation, acne, hirsutism AKA "excessive hairiness" (thankfully I don't have that!!), and even insulin resistance which can lead to obesity or diabetes.  I'm kind of angry that no one told me most of this when I was first diagnosed, especially the insulin resistance because it can lead to life-altering diseases.  I've found this to be a common thread in many PCOS women:  Doctors gave them the Pill to "fix things", and only later did they realize that the pills don't actually solve the problem, but only mask the symptoms.

The truth is, we don't really know how many women with PCOS are able to conceive without interventions.  Using Google or searching message boards will skew the results, since people who conceive on their own are less likely to blog or post about their pregnancy journey.  I am likely getting way ahead of myself in freaking out, but I also don't want to be taken unaware.

In the short term, I'm focusing on what I can do NOW to make my body as healthy as possible.  A good diet and regular exercise have been shown to regulate cycles, something I have definitely experienced in the past.  Because of the link between PCOS and insulin-resistance, avoiding sugar and complex carbohydrates can also have a positive link between regulating the hormone issues and increasing overall health.  (Seriously, I have the biggest sweet tooth in town; why did no doctor EVER tell me that sugar is especially bad for those with PCOS??  *Sigh*)  There are women who claim to have "cured" their hormonal imbalances just through diet and exercise.  I don't necessarily believe I can do that, but am definitely open to any change that could have a positive effect on my reproductive health.

If you have PCOS, I'd love to hear your experiences.  Has diet and exercise impacted your symptoms?  Have you had to use Clomid or Metformin to have children?

An Embarrassment of Riches

It's spring again, although you wouldn't know it to look outside, and I'm looking ahead to the new life that this season represents, as well as behind to whence I've come.  About a year ago, I wrote this post.  I was feeling frustrated as I waited for God to move in my life, to open a door or even a window so that I could feel at home.  I can't help but feel blessed as I look around me now. 

I used to be so frustrated about having nowhere to serve.  I was so involved in my old church, but in the new one it seemed like I had no idea where to look for opportunities.  Now, I find myself having to decide where to step back.  I've been involved with youth and a couple of other areas, and have recently been asked to serve in a para-church Bible study group that I attend.  It truly is an embarrassment of riches.

When I was offered my current job, I was worried that being "just" a receptionist would be so frustrating.  What would people think of me?  Today, I can say that I am very happy working part-time and having the rest of my days to focus on home, my Mandarin studies, etc.  Other opportunities may arise, and I'll consider them prayerfully, but God has been teaching me to stop seeing myself through the lens of being a career woman.

Even a few months ago, I was still feeling sad about not having many real Christian friends here.  I tried and tried to remind myself that it takes time, but that doesn't keep the loneliness at bay.  Recently, I've been meeting new friends in and out of the church.  I had an awesome time with a new friend this week, and the yesterday when I saw her at church, she turned to another woman that I think is wonderful, and said, "How about the three of us get together some time?"  I swear, the heavens opened up and I heard a big Hallelujah.  (Well, okay, not really).  This is what I've been craving:  Not just individual friendships but a group of ladies that I can have fun with and discuss life, faith, and everything else.  As an added bonus, two friends from Ottawa were here last weekend and I had a great time just enjoying the company of close girlfriends.

I'm not saying any of this to boast about how my life is so amazing.  I mean, I'm really blessed, but I still have those moments when I get locked out or spend half the day on the phone trying to figure out our health insurance benefits.  But when I look back at where I was last March, I see how much God has blessed me in the past 12 months and I am awed at His goodness.

But Why?

My husband (somewhat) jokingly tells me that I ask too many questions. I'm always wondering, why he does think that, how does this work, etc. I say I'm just curious, but he thinks its hilarious (and occasionally annoying). This past week, however, was one of deeper questioning. I had applied to a full-time position where I work, and found out that I didn't get the job. I had not been seeking to work full-time until this opportunity arose, and even though it looked interesting, I didn't think my heart was set on it. Being turned down, however, threw me into a day or two of deep and anguished questioning what I am doing and why.

I was always “the smart one” in school, the one expected to go far. One of my high school teachers even insisted I was a future Rhodes scholar. Although I didn't fulfill her dream and go to Oxford, I did complete six years of higher education, and then worked for several years in an intellectually stimulating environment. And now.... I answer the phones. Even though most days I like my job, there are times when I wonder what I'm doing. This week I found myself crying to God, asking why He gave me this mind and educational opportunities only to end up answering phones. Why does it feel like I am squandering my potential? Will I ever have another job that's intellectually fulfilling? What if it takes us longer than we assume to have children, and I end up spending years and years doing routine admin work? Why don't things work out the way I plan them?

Fear is really at the heart of all these questions, and some of those fears are pretty shameful. I'm afraid of being dependent on another person. I'm afraid that people will look down on me because of my job. I'm afraid I'll lose my sharp wits and become dull, or that I'll never cut it in a domestic role. Most of all, I'm afraid because I don't understand God's plan for me.

What I'm realizing in my Bible reading this week, is that Christmas, far from being a feel-good jolly time, is actually full of these kind of fears and questions. There are so many questions in the Christmas story. Zechariah and Elizabeth wonder why the Lord has not blessed them with a child. Mary asks “But why me?” and “But how can this happen when I am a virgin?” Joseph asks what he should do about Mary's situation, and how they will manage the probable scandal of the pregnancy. They both wonder how come they have to go to Bethlehem at this inopportune time, and when the Jesus finally comes, they must have wondered how in the world they were going to raise the Messiah. The shepherds in turn wonder what is going on and why they are the ones blessed to be able to see the Messiah. And in the background, the whole nation of Israel is asking, “But when, Lord, when will the Messiah come?”

Our fears and questioning, far from taking us away from God, actually lead us towards Him as we seek answers and comfort from Him. We can know that we are not alone in not knowing the game plan or being confused; in fact, we're probably in good company with most of the people in Bible. We can marvel at the lowly carpenter and his wife who chose, in the midst of their fears, to obey God and find joy in His plan. And we can enjoy the presence of the One who knows all the answers (even if we don't understand them all).

For to us a child is born,

to us a son is given,

and the government will be on his shoulders. 

And he will be called

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace

 

Merry Christmas, from our little family to yours!!

...But God

I recently attended a fellowship lunch with my Bible study group. Our study time is fairly rushed, so we focus on the Word rather than spending much time getting to know one another. The lunch was a wonderful chance to hear peoples' stories, and what fascinating stories they were!

As I listened, there was one common theme that stood out. I kept hearing statements like, “I was so unhappy when I moved, but...” or “I didn't understand why this would happen, but...” We had all had experiences of coming to a place or situation that we just did not like or understand, but God met us there.

It was a great reminder of my own short-sightedness. So often, if I do not see the immediate results or if I feel pressed at this moment, I do not understand why things have to be a certain way. Yet, I have been through so many difficulties that God ultimately used to produce more lasting effects that I ever would have imagined. I must remember to live day by day in anticipation of the “but God” to come.

Ephesians 2:1-5 And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ. . .

Romans 5:6-8 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Genesis 50:20 As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.

1 Corinthians 1:26-27 For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.

I'm a Working Woman (Again)!

Hi friends!  It's been a busy week in which I really meant to do some posting on here... but I got distracted from it because I GOT A JOB!!!

I will be working part-time at the front desk at my church.  This is primarily an administrative position, as I'll be answering phones, dealing with emails, etc.  It is also a ministry, as people some times call in with prayer requests, so I will need to be sensitive and sometimes to pray over the phone with people.

I'm really excited about this opportunity.  All this time while I was not working, I had it in the back of my mind that at the right time, things would start to happen, and in the meantime I would enjoy the time off.  Once we returned from vacation, I started to get restless and bored some days, so I knew it might be time to get back into the workforce.  Two weeks ago, I was talking to someone after prayer group who asked whether I was still looking for a job.  A church employee overheard us and suggested that I apply for this position.  It has been a bit of a whirlwind since then:  I interviewed on Monday, provided references on Wednesday, was offered the position on Thursday, and started on Friday.

This will be my first time working in a Christian environment.  I know this can have its drawbacks, such as keeping people in a "bubble", but there are so many benefits too.  I mean, it's pretty cool when your boss offers to pray with you before starting a new job!   I had lunch with another staff member and discussed the church's women's ministry.  I think this is going to be a great fit and help me get involved in this city.

The View From Here

Well, friends, it looks like we are moving into the new house in just a few days.  I say "looks like", because we've had a lot of bumps on this road so far, and I don't think I'll believe it's real until that morning when we finally wake up in our new bedroom.

Yesterday, I was reminded to practice an attitude of gratefulness, even through difficult or stressful situations.  I've been trying to look around and note the blessings in my life.  Here are some things for which I am grateful today:

1)  I am grateful for the way God has been with me through the waiting period.  If you had told me back in January that we would still not be moved in by now, I would likely have burst into tears, but God has really taught me about patience and submission in the past few months.  The lessons have not always been enjoyable, but I am certain that one day I will look back at our first few months of marriage and be amazed at how much growth happened in a short time.

2)  I am grateful for this newlywed stage.  I was frankly a bit terrified of moving in together.  I kept hearing people say that the first year of marriage was so difficult; I had images of Gil and me tearing each other's heads off all the time.  In fact, although we have had arguments, the transition to marriage has been  quite an easy one, and I am accepting that as a gift from God, as I'm sure we will face trials at some point in the future.  Six months into our marriage, I can say that Gil has truly been a rock for me as I've gone through so many big changes at once.

3)  I am grateful for spring!  The other day, I dragged myself out to run before breakfast.  It was a battle to get outside, and a battle to go through with the route I had mapped out.  I was so blessed through the experience, because I ended up turning onto a new (to me) street and it was lined trees that had beautiful magenta blossoms.  It smelled *amazing*.  What a gift for a Monday morning!  Yesterday, I picked up my bicycle from being tuned up, and am looking forward to enjoying this season with bike rides and time spent in our new backyard.

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Expectations and Doing Hard Things

A couple of weeks ago, I took the opportunity of my husband being out of town to go to Ottawa and visit with some friends. I was also looking forward to attending my (beloved) former church... and I was not disappointed. The teaching that weekend was really challenging and relevant to where I have been at recently. The sermon talked about finding lasting satisfaction in God. Our pastor mentioned some surprising statistics, noting that in surveys on happiness, Canadians and Americans rated fairly low levels of happiness and satisfaction. In fact, Americans were even surpassed by countries with much lower standards of living, such as Nigeria and Afghanistan! With everything that we have in this society, we are not happy, and I wonder how much this is related to our expectations about life. We expect a life of comfort, one in which our work and home lives are meaningful, and we obsess over the many options and choices we have. Instead of making us happy, we are miserable because we feel like things could be better than they are. The pastor also noted that Christians who look for happiness in external things, even good ones like work and family, will be especially miserable. Our spirits know that we could be experiencing deep satisfaction in God, yet we are disappointed because our spouses, our families, our jobs, etc., cannot provide as deep a satisfaction.

This gave me some food for thought, and while I was pondering it, I decided to attend the Sunday school class with the youth group that I used to serve with. The awesome youth pastor PJ was in the middle of a series of Sundays on Alex and Brett Harris's book Do Hard Things. I don't know if I expected to be impacted much by the talk, because the book is written for teenagers, but PJ gave me a lot to think about.

I haven't actually read Do Hard Things, but the basic premise of the book is that our society has really low expectations of teenagers, basically assuming they will spend 10+ years being lazy and irresponsible before settling into adulthood. (Obviously, there are families in which this is not the case, but this is the general view presented in the media for sure.) Alex and Brett Harris argue that teenagers need something to strive for, and that they are at a place in their lives where they are able to take chances, to throw themselves into causes, and to do hard things. It's not about doing things just because they are hard, but to seek the tasks God would have for them and then do them; to make a difference. In so doing, they will have to fight against the expectations of their elders, their peers, and even themselves that they should be focusing on their own enjoyment for this period in their lives.*

I'm (obviously) not a teenager any more, but this talk really impacted me. I started thinking about the expectations society has for me at this point in my life. It didn't seem like they were particularly high either: get a decent job, focus on my new home, take some vacations, have kids in a couple of years. These are good things, but it seems like the expectation is to be always wanting more. People expect us to upgrade our home every so often, to get new cars every few years, to focus on comfort and on materialism. Not only that, but it seems that no matter what we have, it is totally normal to whine about it: Complain about how kids don't obey and their extra-curriculars are expensive, about things our spouses say or do, about the costs of living and the upkeep of a house, about how tired we are from working/raising kids/taking vacations. We live in a culture where the overall expectation is to be unsatisfied and self-centred! I don't think very many people outside the church would expect me to throw myself into meaningful service, or to continue to practice a frugal lifestyle, or to try to find real satisfaction in God and in extending grace rather than complaining. Thinking this through really encouraged me to keep asking myself, “What does God expect of me? Am I more concerned about God's expectations for my life, or society's? What expectations have I internalized rather than taking a good look about whether they are in fact distractions?”

PJ also stressed that if we are not spending time with God and trying to live out His commands, we should not expect to know what hard things He has for us. That really hit me hard. As I mentioned in a previous post, I feel a bit like I'm in the desert lately, knowing that there is something ahead for me, but unsure what that is. In truth, I have not been spending nearly enough time in prayer and reflection. How can I expect God to reveal open doors if I don't even have my eyes open?

As a reaction to this, I decided to do a (not so) Hard Thing. I took a good look at how much time I spend online. I'll often start reading sites, blogs, etc., in the morning, and end up spending ages online. Then I'll do it again in the afternoon. Since I'm at home a lot, the internet can eat up so much of my time, and honestly my time with God gets postponed. Sooooo, I'm not ready to quit the internet altogether, but I've started a new rule: I have to do my Bible reading and prayer time first, and for the month of May, I will limit myself to half an hour in the morning, and another 15 minutes in the evening. (This will not include checking my email as I get it on my smart phone, or any things that arise out of necessity, such as checking my bank balance or finding an address on a map.) I'm really hoping this will cause me to focus my time on God, as well as on other tasks that are getting pushed aside. I want to be accountable in this task, so if you do see me or talk to me, please feel free to ask how it's going. I'll try to post a few updates on this blog as the month goes on.

What about you? What expectations do you feel society has for you? Are you challenging them?

*As I noted, I have not actually read the book, so if you have, please let me know if there are some inaccuracies in this description.

God Is Good

Sorry for the lack of updates lately, friends.  I don't even have a good excuse.  I've got a few post ideas rattling around my mind, but have not actually put pen to paper, or rather, fingers to keyboard.

God is good!  I say this on what should be a disappointing day.  We were supposed to move today.  I spent most of this week packing up, moving clothes, books, dishes, and subsequently unpacking them at the new house.  Gil was out of town until Thursday, so I took the opportunity to really make a huge mess dive into packing and get things done.  The hope was that today, we'd just have to move Gil's clothes and papers, as well as our couch, mattress and box spring, coffee table, and kitchen table.  Not so.  It turns out that UHaul completely messed up our order, and it being the last Saturday of the month, we were not able to find another cargo van.  Sigh...

BUT...  God is still good in this situation.  In fact, He is glorified in it.  Yesterday, instead of being in turmoil about the uncertainty (and I am a planner and very uncomfortable with uncertainty),  I spent a good time in prayer and asked for His hand in the situation.  Instead of being distressed about the delay, I was able to look at the blessings we have and remember that in a few years, this delay will be forgotten and it will seem like our time in this tiny condo was a small blip in our life together.  More than that, I was reminded of the bigger things to pray about:  character, submission, etc., rather than just focusing on, "God, this is what I want" kind of praying.  He is so good!

Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”

James 4:13-15