For His Glory

"For my good and Your glory."

This is something I have written in my prayer journal that I look at every day. Its something I heard somewhere, shortly after my daughter Aralynn was born. I remember hearing it during that sweet time, where God's faithfulness was revealed, and thinking back to my years of infertility- How they ultimately brought me closer to Christ and my story was already being used to encourage those around me. My good, His glory. Amen.

But sometimes I still look at that, written on the first page of my notebook in huge letters, and think "How?". How could this possibly be for good?

As most of the nation knows, there is currently a large fire close to our town. And in the past few days its gotten worse. 

Many friends have been evacuated from their homes, and our hearts are feeling heavy. 

Besides a small sprinkling 5 days ago, we haven't seen rain since June 18. That's 2 months. Then this afternoon when my husband got home, he informed me that we are supposed to have 30mph wind tonight. I replied, "that's the exact opposite of what we need!" 

This fire feels like a very physical display of what I have been seeing in the lives of so many loved ones. Ones for whom I've been fervently praying for calm, and the flames continue to climb.

Why? Why does God sometimes send wind when we desperately need rain?

Divorce, infertility, miscarriage, illness, depression, debt, loss of home, loss of loved ones... 

It's amazing how Aralynn is 15 months old and I still so often look at her, in awe of the faithfulness of God. I remember the hopeless feeling so often felt through the years leading to her existence, because my hope was in something other than Christ. I didn't truly believe that something outside of my plan for my life could possibly bring me good, or Him glory. 

I also remember the turning point where I put my hope back in Christ and learned to call Him faithful, even if I didn't quite see it yet.

As I sit and watch this fire overtake our community, and watch parts of my loved ones lives crumbling, I pray that we continue to call Him faithful.
I hope somehow we might see how these trials bring Him glory, but my prayer tonight is that we might all continue to trust God.

The God who established all purposes at the beginning of time.

The God who created all the universe. 

The God who is sovereign over every situation.

The same God who sent his Son to suffer on the cross for our sins.

All for our good, and His glory.

"God doesn't ask us to understand, but to trust." 

-Disciplines of Godly Woman

And I'll continue to pray for rain.

"And we know that in all things God works 

for the good of those who live him, 

who have baeen called

 according to his purpose." 

Romans 8:28

Four Years.

Four years is a long time.

Two dogs, three houses, one deployment, back and forth across the country, beginnings and endings of careers and all while waiting for our baby.

This October would have marked four years since we decided to expand our family.

But as most of you already know, we won't wait any longer. 

On August 29th our lives were forever changed.
In the weeks leading up, I had been testing weekly (as usual) and getting negatives. A friend had given me the tests a while back, and as it turns out, pregnancy tests CAN expire. When I noticed the expiration during the third week of testing, I felt the urge to buy a new test, just in case.
It was so hard not to get my hopes up. I've taken dozens of tests, and gotten my hopes up so many times. 
That Saturday morning I needed to go to the store to get ingredients for my slow cooker taco soup, because of course I had been too lazy to go the night before. 
So I peed in a cup and left in on my dryer, because I knew that hormones were most concentrated in the morning. Then I headed down the hill to the store to pick up groceries and a test.
After loading my groceries in my car, I was so incredibly nervous. I just KNEW it would be another negative, but I had to be sure with a non-expired test.
I sat in my car asking God to prepare my heart for the negative. 
No matter how many times you see it, or how many times you tell yourself you are being silly for hoping, a negative test is so devastating. 

When I got home I unloaded my groceries and put away my cold items.
Putting off the inevitable, I combined ingredients for my soup and started the ground beef browning. Then I went into the bathroom.
No matter how many times I've taken the test, I always read the instructions to make sure I do it right. So I performed the test and walked away. Its a lot easier than watching the thing.
I finished cooking the beef, and seasoned my soup, then put away remaining groceries. 
When I walked back in the bathroom about 15 minutes later, I was stunned to see two dark pink lines! I re-read the instructions another 3 times to make sure I was even reading the test right. And then I realized what was happening and sank to the floor, sobbing. The only thing I could say was "Thank you God", over and over.

My first reaction was to call Mike, who was at work. After two rings I realized what I was doing and hung up because I wanted to tell him in person!
However, he claimed an odd feeling about the call and immediately called me back, even though they don't usually have access to their phones.
I quickly came up with a reason for the call and ended the conversation. It was so hard.
I spent my afternoon at work, and that proved to be even harder. I wanted to tell everyone I saw, but my mind was also still spinning, trying to let it all sink in. 
The worst was I (of course) had to buy some clothes at the end of my shift, and then was getting questioned by my coworker who checked me out. Luckily I have 7 god-children that I buy presents for!

When I walked through the door, Mike was laying on the couch watching TV and our conversation went as follows:
Me: " Hey babe, sorry I'm home a little late. I got off 10 minutes late and then had to check out."
Mike: "Check out? *Exasperated* What did you buy?"
Me: "Just a few baby clothes."
Mike: "Baby clothes? *More exasperated* Why?"
Me: "Because our baby will need clothes."
Mike: (Finally turning to look at me) "What?"
Me: "For our baby. Because I'm pregnant."
(At this point he rolls off the couch and hits the floor, not so gracefully trying to stand up, and basically pins himself to the opposite wall)
Mike: "What?"
Me: "I'm pregnant."
...
...
Me: "Are you okay?" (To me, he looks terrified)
Mike: "... ... Oh my gosh."
He then runs over and grabs me, and starts bawling into my shoulder.


Once we are able to compose ourselves, I filled him in on the whole story, then showed him the clothes I had bought. I was definitely surreal for us both. 
We told my parents and little sister that night, then my best friend at church the next morning. We told Mike's best friend (whose wife also happens to be a good friend of mine) later that afternoon at the hospital, because she happened to be in labor with that 7th god-child!

Because of my PCOS, I don't ovulate regularly, and when I do it is later than an average woman. So I had no clue how far along I was. Based on my previous cycle, I was almost 9 weeks. However, in the past when I've gotten positive ovulation tests they are later, so I figured I was about 7 1/2 weeks. (I hadn't been testing this summer, work was so busy and with so much going on it was just hard to track everything. Coupled with basically giving up this spring.)

Luckily I had Monday off work, so we spent the morning trying to get a call back from the doctors so we could schedule an ultrasound to see how far along I was! 
We were finally able to be squeezed in that afternoon. We ran an errand and then headed over to the doctor's office without as much time as we'd hoped. But even after finding a parking spot we would still be 15 minutes early and headed up to the second floor. The door was locked. So we walked up and down the hall trying to figure out what was going on. We went back and saw the note posted on the door, they had moved to a new location three weeks previous. Across town. And it was 3:00 school traffic. We had 5 minutes until our appointment.
When we are late or things don't go according to plan, Mike gets frustrated. We got stuck behind a super slow car, which we finally got out from and he started to get "zoomy". So I, being the annoying wife, told him to slow down and be careful, further aggravating him.
We got to the location on the GPS and were already 10 minutes late. The only place we could find was a lawyers office. So we had to call the front desk and be placed on hold and then finally get the address. By this time Mike is VERY upset, and we race a few blocks down to the new office. As he pulls into the parking lot, he is going too fast to see the curb, and blows the front tire. We decide to deal with it later, and hurry inside, hoping they can still see us. It takes nearly 15 minutes to wait in line, and then we had to be entered into the new computer system. Luckily they were still able to get us in.

At this point I am super frustrated with Mike and incredibly nervous about the ultrasound.
They finally call my name, and we get ready. 

As she gets the machine ready, Mike was having a happy conversation with the tech, telling her how we have been trying for so many years, and how excited he is. I'm grateful that he is talking, because I'm too nervous to.
She starts performing the ultrasound, and after several minutes, my heart is pounding. 
I've never done this before, but I feel like it shouldn't take this long. 
The silence is thick.
After a few more unbearable minutes, the tech quietly says, "well, I can't seem to find anything, I'm going to take a few more pictures and we will get you over to your doctor."
I can't help it. The tears are rolling down my cheeks.(Even typing this it's making my cry).
I try not to make any noise that way my body will be still and not mess up the machine. So I close my eyes and ask God to prepare my heart and give me peace in whatever our situation was. And to please, please let my baby be okay.
The tech tells me I can get my clothes back on, and wait back in the waiting room. You can tell she feels awful.

I don't know if minutes have ever been so long as they were waiting for my doctor.
We finally get called into a room, to wait some more.
After nearly 20 minutes, my doctor comes in and gives me a hug. (She is a family friend, as my Mom was her nanny for several years, and I spent a good chunk of my childhood at her house!)
Then she sits down and gets right to business, telling me the radiologist can't find anything in my tubes, and they don't believe it is ectopic. But they also didn't find so much as a sac.
We go over the timeline again, and she thinks that our dates are more off than we think. So in her cheery way, she tells us that they will send me to the lab and we will look at my HCGs. If they are consistent with 4-5 weeks, we have nothing to worry about because the baby would be too small to see at that point. 
So we draw blood and go outside to call my parents to pick us up. (Remember the tire?)
Of course my Mom can tell something is wrong but I tell her I can't talk right now. 
It was a bad day.

The next day I had to work, and couldn't focus. I was on the brink of tears the whole time, and spent my lunch bawling and praying and reading my Bible in my car, all while hoping my doctor would call with results.
That evening she finally calls (from her home phone no less!) to tell me that the results were good. My HCG level was 430, so I probably wasn't more than 5 weeks. So much relief. 
She had me go in the next day to make sure my numbers were doubling, and they ended up being 1056, almost tripled! 

We had another ultrasound almost two weeks later, on September 17th.
This time we knew where to go and were already in the system so we didn't have to wait as long. 
So we get in the room and start the ultrasound process and she has to put the gooey stick up me again. Once again, I am so nervous.
Once again, this is taking a while. 
Then she goes, "Oh here we are! All the way on the edge of your uterus!"
And our baby comes up on the screen.
I let out the breath I had been holding since the day I got my positive test.
And started to cry. So did Mike.
She showed us where the heart was beating and took measurements to determine our due date as May 7th, 2015. (Give or take 3 days)
A bit later I looked at my chart and was able to *ahem* pin the day of conception, putting our due date at May 6th, 2015.
We got a picture of our baby, and a disc with the video of the heartbeat.
Want to see our baby's first picture?
If you've made it this far, of course you do!

That evening we posted our announcement video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKTBXpGA4xo

Two days ago, we had our first appointment, and got to see our baby again. 

Which was reassuring. Lately I was starting to feel anxious, because I haven't been experiencing many symptoms. Any nausea I do feel, is irregular and quite fleeting. 

I know every person and pregnancy is different, it is just a bit unsettling to not be "normal".

So when she brought the little machine into my room, I was again nervous. 

But our baby popped right up, and had grown so much in two weeks! He/she even was kicking their little legs around and we saw that heartbeat again.  

As you have probably picked up, I've let myself get anxious in this past month. 

Not something that suggests trust in God's plan.
But I came across this picture that first week, when worry consumed my every day.

"Worry is believing God won't get it right."

That is so true.

Because NO MATTER WHAT, God gets it right. Every time.

And I will be okay. 

Because four years is a long time.

But here I am.

God molded me more than I could have imagined.

And I am so thankful for that.

I am so thankful for my experience with infertility.

Weary.

I often wonder if people understand. 

Really though, I know they don't. Who could understand any trial until they go through it themselves? When I look at the trials of others, I know I don't fully understand. 

But I guess that's part of why I started my blog. To help people understand.
And I want to tell you about the hardest part I've personally had with infertility.

It's not watching my husband with others' kids. 

He loves kids. And he is so good with them. It breaks my heart to watch, knowing how desperately he wants this too. Knowing that I will probably never be able to give that to him.

It's not other's probing questions and unsolicited "advice". 

I tried to keep in touch with one of my friends through monthly calls, but every time I'd call she would ask if I was pregnant yet. I know she just really wanted it for me. But having to say, "nope, not yet..." over and over was painful. I eventually stopped calling. Not the best solution, but I've found its what I do- distance myself. I should have said, "trust me, you won't have to ask when I am! But for now please quit asking" or something like that. But I didn't.

And people really like to tell me to "relax" or "it'll happen when you stop wanting it" or "there's always adoption" or crap like that. I'm sorry, I know you mean well but telling me to "relax"? You're telling me that my infertility-which is a medical condition- is being caused by me. What do you expect me to do? Work less? Go to the spa? Not think about it? Would you tell that to someone with other diseases like cancer? It's not like I have a cold and just need to lay low for a week until I'm better. Yes, things like stress and lack of sleep totally effect one's fertility, but at this point it's not like we're just having a hard time getting pregnant, I'm actually infertile. We've really been trying for three and a half years (minus a six month deployment in there) and we have been getting medical help, and we have been praying, and we have been doing everything we can do. Yes, even "relax".
And if there is a way to stop wanting this so much? Please, tell me how. Because the one thing I have wanted for as long as I can remember is to be a wife and mom. When I was a kid there was always a new job out there that I wanted to be, but at the top of the list was always "Mom". So, to tell me I need to stop wanting the one thing I feel so deeply rooted in my soul? To say it simply, I can't.
Adoption is a viable route to parenthood, and one that we have always wanted to take as well. But it is not the same. Adoption is not a band aid for infertility. I could never ask another person, especially one so small, to be that. It doesn't take the desire to create another human, the wonder of what my husband and I would make. Would they have his dimple, my eyes, his humor, my laugh?

Also, please don't talk to me about God's Will or Timing. I know. Really, I do. But you telling me that isn't going to help. Did anyone ever just trust God because another person told them to? Maybe, but not me. I have grown in Christ through Him growing me in my devotions and prayer. (Please don't mistake this for encouragement or other's stories. I'm strictly talking about when people say "you just have to trust God" or "it will happen in His time".)

It's not even other's seemingly continuous pregnancies. 

It's not like I expect the rest of the world to wait while we do. I would never wish that on anyone. But it doesn't mean that it is easy when I open my Facebook and BAM! Pregnancy announcement.
I've gotten better with this part. And not just in a 'I don't cry every time' kind of way, but honestly a peace, with the occasional twinge of sadness. And I really don't know if it is healing or numbness. Because in the past I've had times of both.

The hope. This is the hardest part.

When every single month you are hopeful, even when you tell yourself you shouldn't be. And then month after month, that hope is destroyed with a negative test. And year after year you get less hopeful. But even once you think you've lost hope and don't care anymore, you take a test that crushes you and reminds you that the hope was still there, deep down.

Imagine your biggest dream dying every month. Every single month.

It is a true grief. A grief without closure.

I look at other grief I've experienced, but the difference in the loss of a loved one and infertility is there isn't hope. You aren't hoping that they will come back to life. There is a closure.

But infertility doesn't have time to heal. Because give it a few weeks and you will be painfully reminded again.

It makes a person weary.

But the thing about weariness is it is a slow onset. You don't just wake up one day and are suddenly weary. You often don't even realize that you are weary, because it has happened so slowly over time that this has been normal. But next thing you know you're broken, bawling on the floor and have no clue how you got here.

So what do I do?

I can't make myself pregnant, and I can't stop hoping.

"Come to me, 

all who are weary and burdened, 

and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28

I've never given much thought to my burdens. Yes, I've prayed about them, and tried to give them to Jesus, but I've never really THOUGHT about it.

Of course he died on the cross to take our sins, but I've never thought about Him taking our burdens too.

But this verse, right here, it tells us He wants to carry our burdens. 

Because you know what makes us weary? Carrying our burdens.

But Isaiah 40:28 tells us He will not grow weary.

"Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not grow faint or grow weary;

his understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint, 

and to him who has no might 

he increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary, 

and young men shall fall exhausted;

but they who wait for the LORD

shall renew their strength;

they shall mount up with wings like eagles;

they shall run and not be weary;

they shall walk and not faint."

Isaiah 40:28-31

I am tired.
Tired of waiting. 
Tired of wondering how much longer I will continue to wait.
Tired of hearing the same comments and "advice".
Tired of hurting.
Tired of hoping.

I am weary.

My prayer is that I can stop standing in my own way.
That I can allow myself to go to Him, the Giver of Rest, the Healer of the Brokenhearted, the Carrier of Burdens, the Restorer of Hope, and lay my burdens down.
Not to be picked up again.

This post has been edited since original publishing to reflect what I intended to say. 

For some reason when I originally published, it reverted to a draft and I didn't catch all of it.

I Am a Stone Thrower

It has been a little over a year since I started this blog, and opened up to the world about my infertility. 

A LOT has happened in the past year. My husband got out of the Army, we moved back across the country, I got a new job, Mike started school and founded a new company, I was diagnosed with PCOS and started infertility treatment, Mike decided college wasn't for him and is currently in EMT training, and he is starting a new job at the end of the month.

Whew. Lots of change.
But the one of the best changes has been my outlook on this infertility business.
I have been meaning to write this post since July. It has just been swirling around in my head, enough that I had much of it typed out on my phone. But I just am a procrastinator and maybe felt a little fear of being authentic about this. 

In July I was doing a Beth Moore Bible Study through a local church. Each week we watched a video together, and one week Beth started out by saying "I am going to need you to all put your stones down." It would be talking about sexual impurity.
I thought to myself "I don't have any stones to set down."
I honestly believed it. I don't cast stones at other people's sin. I totally realize that I am not perfect and  that we all need Jesus and no sin is greater than another. 

But that line stuck with me over the next few weeks, and as I thought about it more, I realized something. I AM a stone thrower.

The first year and a half of infertility was filled with bitterness, anger, and resentment.
There were so many women announcing pregnancies. It was seemingly unceasing. 

I would see a  woman and think "really God? HER?! She hasn't wanted this as long as I have!"

or

"But she hasn't been married as long as I have!"
or

"But God, she didn't even WANT a baby!"

or 

"She probably won't be a very good mom, why her instead of me?"
But the worst was
"But God, she isn't even married!" 

I was a virgin on my wedding day. I know many will find that fact incredibly weird. But I'm so glad I waited. However if I look at my reasons why, they weren't with the best intentions. I think most of it was fear of my parents and wanting to be perfect, not at all out of a heart that wanted to honor and love God.
However I wasn't perfect. Not at all. I may not have had intercourse, but I was still sexually immoral.

But when I would see a teenager or an unmarried woman, or even a friend that WAS married but I knew had sex before marriage, I would scream "Really God?! I waited until marriage. I followed your commands. I have EARNED a baby!"

I was so incredibly entitled. I believed I deserved the blessing of a baby more than any of those other women.
I was throwing stones at those women's blessings, because of their sins which weren't for me to judge, and I didn't even realize it.

My entitlement revealed two sins that were so prevalent in my life.
One, my intent wasn't out of love and to glorify God, but that I was checking all my "religion boxes" in hopes of being blessed. And two, that I was putting my hopes in my works and all that I could do, instead of putting my hopes in the grace of Jesus Christ.

Blessings are gifts that cannot be earned. The only thing I have earned is Hell. That is what is so beautiful about the cross.

I do not know the reason God chooses to give some babies and others not, or has some wait longer than others. But I do know that I have found a deep gratefulness in this waiting period.
My relationship with God has been strengthened so much. I've found that through all the trials I've endured, that the hardest trials nourish the deepest roots of faith. I am reminded everyday that all my hope, all my dependence, all my trust is in no more than Jesus.

At some point I stumbled upon this blog post, which spoke to me. One quote in particular jumped out.

"God's promises are funny like that. 

Sometimes he shows us what he has for us and then he 

invites us in to the refining place of waiting and contending 

- not because we need to earn something 

but because He wants to stamp us with His image in those places.
There's a piece of  His heart to be found in the waiting."

There is a piece of His heart to be found in the waiting.

When I was once feeling robbed of one of the greatest blessings, I came to discover that my infertility has actually been one of the greatest blessings. 

By being broken I am in a place to be healed and molded into His image.

There are still hard days. Sometimes I still get furious with God for making me wait. But I cry out to Him, and pour out my disconcerted heart. And even that is good. The resentment comes when I try to hide myself, emotions and all, from Him. Which it is silly to try and hide anything from God, He already knows how I feel.
But the difference between me now and a year ago is I don't LIVE there. I don't dwell in the dark, bitter places anymore. When those days come I turn them back to God. I ask Him to hold me and heal me. And he does. He holds me while I grieve. And then there is peace.

I firmly believe that God has given us the trials and circumstances we have so that He my be glorified, we may be strengthened, and other may be encouraged.

Finally, I want to leave you with a few of the most encouraging verses to me.

Philippians 3:8-9 (ESV): "8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith."

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV): "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.'"

1 Peter 1:6-7 (NLT): "6 So be truly glad! There is wonderful joy ahead, even though it is necessary for you to endure many trials for a while. 7 These trials are only to test your faith, to show that it is strong and pure. It is being tested as fire purifies gold - and your faith is far more precious to God than mere gold. So if your faith remains strong after being tried by fiery trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is reveled to the whole world."

James 1:2-4 (NIV): "2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."

New. New, New

We are so excited to finally be getting on our feet here in Missoula!

We got here a few days before Easter, over two months ago, and have still been living at my parents house. 

I love my parents. I love this house. I hate not having our own space or enough space. I hate going through the mountain of boxes in the garage whenever I need something. I hate not being able to walk around naked.

Last week I did an audition for Old Navy and then got a call back for an interview too! And as most of you know from Facebook, I got the job! First I applied to ;) I will start next week.

All month we have been looking at houses, and not having much luck. Not only did we have a $800 budget, but we also have two dogs. Even though Sophie is a service animal, we were still having a hard time finding somewhere that would accept Ranger. Everything we were finding were tiny two bedroom apartments and four-plexes, with no yard. 

We went to check out a few places, but didn't put in any applications. It was astounding how much less we got in the Missoula housing market compared to Fayetteville.
(We had a three bedroom/two bath single family home with a garage and huge yard AND in a better neighborhood- All for $795/month!)
We were feeling so discouraged that all the crappy places we were looking at already had other applications. It's hard to justify paying $30 per person just to apply to a house you really don't want, that others are already ahead of you in line for.
And then the pet deposits are ridiculous. I can understand charging a $150. $200. even $250 pet deposit. But some places were asking $800, or more!
One rental company took it even further, not only asking for a pet deposit and additional pet rent every month, but then a $50 application fee per pet (on top of the application fee for people!)! Why? Really, why? What are you going to do, run my dog's credit and criminal background?

Ridiculous.

Then one day, driving back from a friend's, we saw a "For Rent" sign in front of a duplex on 55th. So we gave a call and left a message. We were sure it would be out of our price range, since every other duplex we had called on was at LEAST $900, even on 55th. We had basically accepted our four-plex fate.

The guy called, it was a *3* bedroom, one bath with a garage and fenced yard, they accepted dogs and it was....wait for it.... $850 a month. Yes, $50 out of our price range, but I re-ran numbers and figured we could do it. Especially for everything else we were getting.

So we went to the showing, where there were already about 3 other families, and more people pouring in. We asked about the application fee-none.
We asked about the pet deposit-none.
We asked about pet rent- Only $25.
We applied.

Waiting was so terrible. They called the next night to tell us it was between us and another couple they "really liked". In the words of my dad, "Cruel."
But then this morning they called, and-you guessed it-

WE GOT IT!

We will be signing the papers this afternoon and hopefully moving a few things tonight.
But tomorrow *should* be moving day.

So please clear your calendars and come move a few boxes...

Thank you all so much for your prayers, we know that everything coming together right in the nick of time is nothing but God. We've been starting to get a tad stressed, trying to remember God's timing, only for Him to remind us that he's got this under control.

In Christ Alone

As many of you already know, these past few weeks have been CRAZY!

We moved home to Missoula, MT a few days before Easter and Mike is officially out of the Army as of May 13th!

We had two busy weeks to try to settle in, and then left for a two week trip with my parents and little sister to the coast! (Pictures to come!) We hit Seattle, the Oregon coast and northern California, then back up through Portland. I was able to end the trip by attending a Beth Moore conference in Spokane, WA with my Mom, Aunt anId Grandma. (More to come about that!)
We got home Saturday night and had Sunday to prepare to leave again Monday morning for Libby, MT and visit my grandparents.

It has been fun to see the sights and visit family, but I am so ready to be home. And I really missed my babies since they didn't come to the coast with us. Two weeks away from them is too long!

But now begins a scary dose of reality.
We are currently living in my parents house but have no clue what we are doing now. We thought we had a plan, and then Mike actually got out and we are just not sure anymore. Every decision feels so permanent, and it is simply terrifying and extremely stressful. I know that God will provide and I have felt pretty at peace, but the past few days I have just had too much time to think about it all!
This upcoming week we are facing Mike applying to the University and us both finding jobs. Then Mike will have to make a decision on what he will major in, which has been no minor task! Finally, we need to find a place to live, because as much as I seriously love my family, we need our own place. However we would like to buy, not rent. Which brings it's own whole set of problems. So prayers would REALLY be appreciated as we are sitting at so many major decisions right now.

But what I REALLY have had rolling around in my head and wanted to write is what happened the past weekend.

The past two-three months I have been feeling so far from God. My prayer life slowly went out the window and I hadn't been doing devotions anymore. Resentment and frustration had begin to creep in and turn my heart cold.
My relationship with God had gone from something real to "what can I do to make Him give me what I want?". Everything revolving around my relationship was "maybe if I do this, He will give me a baby". God and our relationship was no longer number one, and the worst part is I didn't even realize what had happened. 

Having a baby had become my idol.

I almost didn't go to Beth Moore.
We arrived to my Grandma's house a few hours before my Aunt was coming to pick us all up. I was exhausted from our trip and all I wanted to do was take a shower and catch up on Hulu before taking an early bedtime.
However I knew how disappointed my Mom would be, and I couldn't waste $70.

But watching the video waiting for worship to start, I was in tears. It just spoke to me.
And then once the worship team took the stage, the Holy Spirit felt so thick. It was such an amazing feeling that had been several months since I felt.

Beth's speaking was good, however I just so desperately needed to feel God again through my heartache and give it all to Him. For me, the weekend was really more getting that relationship back on track.

Then came Sunday's sermon.
You know how sometimes when you are going through something and everything you hear seems to be God whispering (or screaming)? Yeah.
It was seriously so amazing, that here is the link for you to go watch yourself, if you feel so inclined.

I feel refreshed.
It is still so tempting to let my fertility take charge of my life, to try to earn my desires instead of focusing on and trusting God's plan, and to let my fertility become an idol.
But my prayer is for God to give me the faith and strength I need to focus on my relationship with Him above all else.

An Infertility Update

So once again, it has been weeks since I wrote.

I've been meaning to write this post for the past several days, but as most of you know, life is really busy right now. Mike got his VA ratings back at the beginning of March and we have been dealing with the house we are renting being in foreclosure. Luckily, we are moving back to Montana on Monday! So we had the packers here Tuesday and Wednesday, and I am currently sitting in an almost empty, but very clean house since the movers loaded our stuff into the truck this morning.

 

I know I wrote back in December about infertility, and since haven't given any updates. Well, that is because there really weren't any updates to give.
But now I am going to write to tell you what has developed since then.

At the very beginning of January, I had my first appointment. My doctor told me we were going to run some tests, and that I needed to get my blood drawn on cycle day 3. I was on like, cycle day 6, which meant I had to wait for a whole new cycle. We were also told that Mike needed a sperm analysis.
Then he told me that I needed to lose weight, according to my BMI. Because if all Mike's tests came back fine and all mine came back fine, then I would go to infertility. (If something came back abnormal, then they would work to treat that instead of sending me to infertility.) However, they wouldn't take me unless my BMI was below a certain number. Because if it wasn't, they were just going to assume I couldn't get pregnant because I was fat.

Now don't get me wrong, I know that extra weight can sometimes make it difficult to get pregnant. And I definitely know that I have weight to lose. About 45 pounds of it. However the fact that they would look at my BMI and only my BMI to establish that pissed me off.
If you do any research, it will take you minutes to see how outdated the BMI chart is. Even the creator of it said it SHOULD NOT BE USED to determine health of any sort.

So basically I walked out of there feeling so guilty for being overweight and praying that my hormones or thyroid or something came back abnormal, that way we would at least have something to look at and fix, because I need to lose 15 pounds minimum to be at the BMI the infertility doctors would want me to be.

 

The next week Mike went to get his semen analysis done. Eventually we got the results back (like, try a month later because his PA was at JRTC) and everything was good. More than good, actually. He has superhero sperm, basically.
Really, it didn't make me feel bad. I already knew the problem was me, call it woman's intuition.

Fast forward to the end of March, when I FINALLY got my next period, so that I could get my blood work done on cycle day 3.
Yeah, I know. My cycles are all over, anywhere from 17 days (full cycle, not period!) to 110 days. I never know what I will get.

 

Monday I had my appointment to go over the results. All my hormone levels are fine, and from a medical stand point, there isn't anything wrong. I call BS. We have been trying for 18 months, my cycles are all over the place, and according to my BBT (which I have been tracking for about 14 months) shows no indication of ovulation most cycles. But from a "medical stand point" there is nothing wrong.
This was my biggest fear. Trust me, I WANTED something to come back off. I wanted there to be something to fix. Because if there is nothing to fix, I have a lot less hope. Then it is just me. For no reason.

Our next steps are to get scans of my fallopian tubes and make sure there is no blockage, and I guess then go from there. Luckily, I will be able to choose a doctor in MT to pick up from here. I am just so sick and tired of these Army doctors.

 

BAM. Now you're all up to speed.