I left off
Part One by saying that God is shaping me into a better wife and potential mother.
I asked him to tear away from me what allowed me to remain selfish - which, in hindsight, was such an appropriate request. There are so many parts of myself that I'd like to change, and (hopefully) you will be able to see improvement over the years. I'm a work in progress, on His timing.
Speaking of timing...mine is a little off.
Just a heads up, dude readers. I'm about to talk Lady Business, with a capital Vagina. So, proceed with caution.
For the past several months my cycle has been way jacked up. Like, nearly-triple-digits since my last period jacked up. I went to the Lady Business doctor and she told me that I might just be really stressed out and putting the subconscious brakes on my uterus. She also put me on a progesterone treatment to encourage withdrawal bleeding.
Except I didn't respond to it. More accurately: my ovaries ignored it completely.
Meanwhile, my pelvis was getting more and more painful - tender, almost - and making me bloated. Whatever was going on, it was messing with my body *and* my head. At this point, my stress levels very well could have stopped a Mack truck of periods, so I was only a little surprised that the progesterone didn't work. Plus, I had done my own reading and it turns out that the most common disorder that doesn't respond to progesterone is what the medical community has so subtly-termed "Total Ovarian Failure".
*Gulp*
There were tears. Oh-so-many tears. I was beating myself up for not getting pregnant "when I could", I was beating myself up for not going to the doctor sooner. I was pushing Stephen away (in more ways than one) because I didn't feel attractive in my super-sexy-bloat state, and I didn't want him to get stuck with someone who couldn't bear him children. I guess I was temporarily insane and forgetting that he already *was* stuck with me, in sickness and in health.
Somewhere in those heart-tearing gut-sobs, I begged God to forgive me for my anger. I was mad at Him for taking away the one thing I had always wanted to experience - biological motherhood. Of course, I *knew* this wasn't fair, but I felt so abandoned. What else could I do but cry out in my pain and confusion?!?
And then God brought me to Hebrews. (Side note: what an awesome book!)
Hebrews 11: 8-12, to be exact.
By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going out to a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was going. 9 By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise;10 for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. 11 By faith even Sarah herself received ability to conceive, even beyond the proper time of life, since she considered Him faithful who had promised. 12 Therefore there was born even of one man, and him as good as dead at that, as many descendants as the stars of heaven in number, and innumerable as the sand which is by the seashore.
WHOA.
God wasn't asking me to be happy. He wasn't asking me to be a mom tomorrow. He was asking me to have faith.
And Stephen and I started talking about it. We are both scared to be parents, not sure if we're ready and capable to properly raise kids of our own. Stephen reiterated his faith in my ability to be a mom in whatever way that comes to us - through biological children, foster kids, adoption, whatever. We realized that God was taking us into a foreign land, and that in so doing, He may be sparing us from a greater pain than infertility. He may be bringing us the greatest gift we can never imagine for ourselves. He may have a child whose fate is in our hands, and who will need us to be childless to truly appreciate them as the blessing they are.
The bottom line is this: there is *always* reason to have faith. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for.
And there is always hope.
My doctor put me on a second round of progesterone. She either hadn't given up on my ovaries or she thought it would be a fun mental health experiment. At this point, my sister offered me bail money, a hideout - whatever I needed. (To those of you who haven't had this lovely experience: it makes you certifiably insane. I recommend pairing this medication with a 72-hour psych hold.)
And a few days later, it worked.
I don't think I've ever been so happy to get a period in my entire life. I do *not* have Total Ovarian Failure, by the grace of God. Instead, I have this lovely little disorder called Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.
There are so many varying components of PCOS, and each woman is a little different in her presenting symptoms and best management techniques. I'll try to explain it simply for those of you who like all the technical stuff.
PCOS is a condition in which a woman's hormones are super out-of-whack; they don't properly trigger egg maturation and release during what should be ovulation. The egg improperly matures and does not release. Instead, it quite literally explodes into a cyst (fluid-filled sac) that attaches to the ovary. This sac is very painful. Technically, PCOS is diagnosed with an ultrasound that reveals 10 or more cysts.
Women with PCOS are also likely to suffer from insulin resistance, difficulty losing weight, and/or body or facial hair growth. The real kicker is that PCOS is the leading cause of infertility in women under 35.
So, yeah. I might still be infertile. I only ovulate when my body decides it wants to, really. And as of late, it isn't too keen on the notion. I may or may not have ovulated this month - we'll see! My doctor's orders are to lose weight and avoid high-glycemic foods that can wreak havoc on my insulin and hormone levels.
If I have trouble with losing weight, she can put me on a drug that will help regulate my hormones to allow weight to come off. But, this drug also increases fertility. Soon we'll have only two choices: drugs for fertility or drugs with which not-to-get-pregnant. Pray for us as we face this MASSIVE decision in the coming months.
Yesterday was my birthday and it is honestly the first birthday I did not want to celebrate. That biological clock is ticking so loudly, and I really didn't want another (painful) reminder that my chances of ever conceiving grow slimmer with each month. But we celebrated anyway. We looked fear in the eye and told it firmly that God was with us, and it would not steal our joy. And it was a pretty sweet day after all! :)
If you're wondering why I have PCOS, you're not alone. Doctors believe there is a genetic tendency, but there are always contributing factors. I sometimes wonder if it's my fault. To be honest, that line of thinking will get me nowhere fast. I am doing my best to focus on keeping my hope alive.
After all, I've still got about 63 years on Sarah, and she had a healthy baby boy. God does His best work on the "broken", don't you think?
A while ago, I mentioned a DIY project to build a standing computer desk. Well, we kind of...scrapped that plan. Instead, Stephen's parents gave us a computer desk from Ikea they needed to clear out of the office. Believe it or not, it was a *perfect* fit for the space we had to fill. I always wonder if they really "needed" to, or if they found a way to do without. They're those kind of people - always putting everybody else before themselves. 
We pooled our gift cards from Christmas and bought a set of bar stools that we use at our kitchen countertop bar and as seating for the computer desk. They're saddle seats in a really nice dark-brown solid wood. The color is a good contrast to the honey-colored cabinetry and bring out the darker tones in the marble countertop. Again, Stephen whipped out the handyman skills and assembled them in about an hour. He deserves a cookie, don'cha think?
