the tipping point

I had a crummy week.

I want to write a positive post because I feel guilty for spending so much time complaining about what I don't have when I've been immensely blessed in comparison to most of the rest of the world, but if I'm honest, it's been a hard week. I've spent so much time worrying about and waiting for doctor's appointments and test results that I've become even more self-absorbed than usual. Life has revolved completely around me, and being me hasn't been very fun.

My new student teacher came for the first time this Wednesday, and I realized about five minutes in that starting down the path of fertility treatments has already changed me for the worse. I think I was a pretty good mentor in the fall, but just the thought of mentoring this new girl makes me tired. It's not that I think she'll be particularly difficult or anything. It's just that she's one more person I have to take care of, and taking care of extra people feels really hard when I've got so much going on outside of school.

Teaching little bitties has always been emotionally demanding. In fact, it used to feel crushing to me, but this year it hasn't. Until this week, picking up my kids in the mornings tended to be the highlight of the day. They would see me walk in the door and jump up, all fighting to be first to tell me whatever exciting news they've picked up since the previous afternoon, and the stress of the rest of my life would melt away. This week that didn't happen. There were moments that they'd do or say something precious and I'd get pulled back in for a bit, but apparently I've reached the tipping point where the stress is too much to sweep under the carpet with a few cute smiles. Adding responsibilities certainly didn't help.

I'm beyond thankful for the moments that were special. Seeing a picture of words written in chalk on a sidewalk proclaiming to the world that I take care of my class when they're hurt and help them with their learning. Escaping into a magical pirate world during recess with one of my autistic kids. Reading a card that described me as "loevly." Having a dance party after we were the best behaved kindergarten class in the lunch room yet again. Those are the parts of the week that I want to remember. That's the post I want to write... the one where my week totally rocked.

Maybe next week...

reality

Infertility sucks.

I've shied away from using that word to describe what I'm going through, but since my doctor seems ok with claiming it, I guess it's time that I accept that it's accurate. I'm dealing with infertility. It is an issue, and it isn't going to magically disappear. It's my reality. My problem has always been that I have friends much further down the path than me, people who've gone through years and years of heartache, and I tend to feel guilty placing us all in the same category. I don't know when the magic moment would be when I would have felt enough pain to qualify though, so perhaps it's time to let go of that distinction and admit that, unfortunately, I already do.

I've enjoyed the last couple of weeks because, to be completely honest, I'd given up hope of ever getting pregnant. That sounds like a really awful place to be, but surprisingly, it wasn't. I'd started researching other options like fostering or adopting kids, and I started to get excited about those things. I could walk through the children's building at church or read that another friend was pregnant and not want to scream out of jealousy or burst into tears, and that was nice. Life wasn't going as I planned, but this was a workable alternative.

Then I went to the doctor, and she brought hope back into the equation.

It's counter intuitive, but when she insisted there was still lots of hope for me getting pregnant, everything fell apart again. Not immediately. At first I was thrilled, but that didn't last long. The problem with this new hope of pregnancy is that along with it comes a lot of risk. Treatments that may or may not work. More months or years of the emotional roller coaster of waiting for test results, knowing the answer I want is unlikely, but still getting my hopes up anyway. Having my heart ripped out every time another friend announces her "accidental" pregnancy. Life-altering ethical decisions that scare me to death. When the situation looked hopeless, there was a peace in at least having a clear answer and an end in sight, but with hope there's no black or white next step... just lots of uncertainty.

So that's this week. I'm glad it's almost over...

a shift I never expected...

Usually breaks from school are sort of the best part of my job. There are moments of teaching that are great, but the many, many holidays are definitely a plus. For the past month or so I've noticed myself dreading the breaks. That was the first sign there might be a problem.

I've gone back and forth with whether or not the mood I'm in qualifies as depression because it's so transient. When I have tons of free time, like during school breaks, I inevitably start thinking about how very different I always thought my life would be, but as long as I'm distracted by work for most of the day, I'm ok. It probably doesn't help that holidays pretty much revolve around children, but still. I don't know that there's ever been a time when work was the thing I looked forward to. I used to try to pretend the breaks wouldn't end. Now I'm almost ready to start some sort of countdown until my life is filled with distractions again and the sadness won't be so consuming.

I realized today that a lot of the sadness comes not from the frustration of waiting like I sort of thought but from the worry that no kids now will mean no kids ever. It might be begrudgingly, but I can accept later. But when I start to think about never... that God might have deliberately chosen for me to be childless... I have no schema for that possibility. Over the past few years of being on and off meds and dealing with what that might mean for having kids I considered lots of possible eventualities, but even my worst case scenarios involved us with kids. Now that we're actually here though, it turns out that considering things in the abstract, way-off future is a lot different than considering them as possible next steps, and suddenly the idea of us ending up childless is looking like a very real possibility to me.

I've already been told by roughly everyone I know that I'm being too negative, and maybe I am. I could get pregnant any time. After all, God can do whatever he chooses... but what if nothing changes?

What if this is the path he chose?