Am I Still?

I look at the title of this blog, and think back to when I started it. Almost exactly four months back. At that time I could see so clearly that I was (and was continuing to be) living proof of God's goodness and grace. The past month or so, I've been struggling. Struggling more than I have even considered admitting to anyone. And worse than that, lately, I've not been struggling. Just complacent. And that's even worse.
Tonight I am pondering this - if someone is watching me for evidence of who God is, and what He can do - will they see any proof? Or have I been so negligent as to let my fire grow dim and my zeal grow cold? And I wonder, have I encountered those who are reaching out, and been so wrapped up in myself that I haven't seen or haven'g care? How many times?
I need to change. And I'm seeing that I'm going to need help to do that. It's scary to reach out and ask for this... I'm afraid of getting hurt even more. Or what if when I reach out, I just get told the things I already know - it's time to move on; she'd want me strong, she'd want me happy; think of the needs of others and get over myself; draw closer to God; spend more time in His word; Christ will never leave; I'll see her again. All true. And all things I already know and am trying my best to implement. I need more than knowing those. I need help. And I don't like admitting that, don't like asking, and most of all, don't like that I've let it get this bad before doing anything about it.

Mother's Day

48 hours from now, I'll be getting ready to turn in for the night. And then, when I wake up, it will be Mother's Day. An interesting day for me. I have a mother. She, like every other person on this planet, is imperfect. Flawed. Broken. But she is my mother. And she gave me life. Not only that - she's done so much to make my life better. She doesn't see it, and doesn't believe it. But I am glad she is my mother. I wouldn't trade her for anything. Few people can love with the intensity she does.
In spite of this... I will be spending a large portion of Mother's Day alone, at least physically. I will go to church... I need that. I know I do. As soon as that first service is over, I will walk into the parking lot and get into my car. If I am crying, I will gain composure. I will find a greenhouse, and buy a flower. Then I will drive to the little cemetary in the country. I'll park my vehicle. I'll walk down a gravel path, cross over dirt and grass. Sit beside an unmarked grave. The resting place of the greatest woman I've ever known. Well... not HER resting place. Her body's resting place. There, I will plant the flower. I've given her a plant every year of my life. And I can't give her anything now. But by doing this, I feel like maybe it's a way to remember, a way to honor her. I don't know how long I will stay. Maybe it will be for five minutes. Or maybe five hours. Maybe more. I really don't know.

Adios...

Adios is an interesting word. It's used to say "good-bye" or "see you later." Break down the word... it means "to God." I'm so grateful that Gramma is with Him... it's sort of adios....

I'm looking at the last gift gramma gave me... and that's what's making me so glad that she's with Him. It's a picture and a note that I made for her on February 11th, 1990. It was my way of telling Gramma that I had asked Jesus into my heart. And given my life to Him.

He's stayed with me this whole time, and no matter how much life hurts, He'll get me through it.

Turn Around

I've been struggling with certain areas of my life (spiritually, mostly). Doing everything I can do to make things right, make them better. And it's not been working. I resolve to do something, and it doesn't happen. Not because I refuse - because I say "YES, I AM going to do this..." and then I don't think of it. And that scares me a bit.

On Friday, I went to a meeting/church service. John Bevere (some of you have heard of him, I'm sure) was preaching. God's been listening and hearing me... because this meeting addressed several of the issues I've been fighting - actually, all but two - and gave me the tools I need to move forward. I'm starting the twelve week series today. And while I know that time will have pass to see that this is true, Friday was definately a turning point.

I won't write more here today, at least not until later tonight. I'm not sure what else I can (or should, or even want to) say.

Healing...

I spent the majority of today searching. Ostensibly, I was searching for whooping cranes. And, I guess I sort of was. But why? Because there is something about their majesty, and their call (the sound that I believe to be one of the most wild a person can hear), and their rarity... makes me feel a little closer to God somehow. I would guess it's because those things are something they share with our God... He's the most majestic. He's the wildest. He's so rare - there's no other, ANYWHERE.

But I wasn't just searching for them... I was searching for a connection. A connection with God. A connection where comfort flowed in. Because now, more than in the past three months in many regards, I need comfort. Comfort and reassurance... God, and God alone, knows why exactly this is. Today, while standing at the top of a 30 foot observation tower, I had the privilege of watching two weather fronts collide and brew up a storm. Thunder rumbling constantly, lighting flashing from cloud to cloud, bands of rain racing across the marshland. It played out in front of me like a theater, a production put on just for me, by a God who took a moment to say He's there and He does care.

In spite of all this, I feel somehow empty and alone tonight. My husband is here with me. And I love him so much. I'm concerned I've let him think I don't want or need him... or that I've made him think he doesn't have anything to offer... or that I've taken our marriage for granted. It's weird... I want to curl up on the couch and just talk and snuggle. But I don't know what I'd say. And I'm scared that if I reveal what's really inside, and my husband does what he so often has lately (listens with compassion, and then in a desperate attempt to avoid the pain in himself and to avoid causing me more pain, starts joking around about things unrelated), I'll get so angry with him. Besides, I'm not even sure what is inside.

I leave with this... very early Sunday morning, I dreamt about Gramma. In the dream, we were alone together. I was talking to her, and she was talking to me. I remember almost every question I asked, but none of the answers. I was asking about death... did she know before she died that she was dying? Was she scared? Was she excited to see Jesus? Did that excitement over ride the grief of leaving us? Did it hurt? Did she see herself? Did she know how she was going to die?

Today, as I drove the 75 miles to the wildlife refuge, I thought repeatedly that she would have loved to go on that trip with me. By the time I got there, most of the excitement of the day had worn off for missing her. And I would have loved to have her there. To talk, to laugh... hug... share the beauty of God's world with each other. And I wish I could ask her the questions that burn in the back of my mind.

Only Dreaming...

I dreamt about her last night. First time in quite a while. In the dream, she was watching us, and talking to us - and laughed and smiled, but I don't remember what she said or what she sounded like. My whole family could see her and talk to her. At the end of the dream, I said to her, "Gramma... I wish you were still alive. I don't want to take this trip all alone." That made her look so sad. And then I woke up.
I'm glad God designed us to be dreamers. Because while I have no illusions about this particular dream being from Him (it definately wasn't), I'm grateful to have seen her. Even though it wasn't her... I don't know if that makes sense at all. Anyway, now I'm off.

Lessons...

On Sunday, we learned about help at church. What about it? We learned that if you need it, you need to ask for it. Ask, and then ask, and ask, and ask until you get it. Perhaps my God had me in mind when He had my Pastor teach on this...

The thing is, I don't know if I actually do need help. In many ways, I really am okay. I'm not depressed, I'm not having any issues with suicide or anything else like that. And while yes, I do wish that I had someone to talk to, someone who would just listen... someone who is a woman, a woman older than me, someone who is Godly and of an upright character... someone trust-worthy, Spirit-filled, gentle (but firm when needed)... someone like the ladies I listed previously... I don't know what I'd say. What does a person say in a situation like that?? "Um... I'm sad." ??? I am sad. But I don't think that's bad. I don't think that it's bad to miss her. The part that I think isn't quite as it should be is how much I cry. And how, no matter what the day holds, I think of her no less than every 15 minutes or so.
I act like I'm doing okay, maybe even like I'm doing great. I say I'm doing well. I try to tell myself that too. And I don't actually know if I am okay... although that really makes no sense, does it?

Nothing...

Nothing much to say tonight. I did want to say thank you to whoever it is that read yesterday's post and left a comment earlier. It's strange - it does help to receive encouragement like that. And it's all something that I DO know in my head - and in my heart. It's just that so much of me is saying NO to the idea that I'm not at fault here. I've been praying a lot the past week or so - asking God for help. Asking Him to help me either get over this absolute conviction that I killed this wonderful and amazing woman, or else help me to be okay with that. Although how anybody could be okay with that, I just don't know.
My heart aches right now, but in the end, I KNOW that eternity awaits me. And I am so excited for that. I wish I didn't have to wait...

Charades

I feel like I'm living one endless charade. One where what I'm portraying is someone who's doing very well, and has it together, is happy, is okay. Yes, in some ways, I AM doing very well, and I DO hold it together... And there are moments of happiness... and I'm sort of okay. But really, I miss her so much. And I feel like I should be okay now - or at least be better than I am. Be happy. I feel like I shouldn't be crying when nobody is looking. I feel like I shouldn't spend so very much time thinking about her. And yet... none of it is so. I ache inside. It's like everything good is tempered with sorrow. Yesterday, we had an Easter celebration at my uncle's house. It was good to see everyone, but I felt like it was an empty imitation of what it used to be like. And that's not right - not even close. The true meaning, which is Jesus, is still the same.

Questions

I have questions. My doctor will answer some... like should I be worried about the dizziness? Is there something I can do to lessen or eliminate it? What about the balance and clumsiness issue? The nausea? Maybe I've just got a bug, I don't know.
The questions that really matter... they can't be answered by my doctor. I want to know about heaven. I want to know what the people there see and/or know about those of us here. I want to know if it's okay to talk to God and ask Him to let them know things - and also, if it IS okay to ask, what about Him doing it... will He? Does He? How's it work?
If my focus is on God... and I believe it is... how come I miss her so much? How come I can't bring myself to talk to anybody about it? There's so few people I'd even consider... My Pastor, but I don't know about that - seems like it's not something I should take his time up with... or Pastor Quam, maybe... Edie, for sure... Shawn... maybe Lynn, but just a little. Jeanne, perhaps, a little - she has a light-hearted exterior, but she loves God and she loves people... I just don't know. There's plenty of people who would be willing beyond the ones I mentioned, but I just can't see doing it. And I don't know what I'd say anyway... In some ways, I want to move on and not miss her so much, not cry so much. In so many other ways, I'm not ready to do that. And even if I was - there's so many reminders, I don't think it would happen anyway.
Found a good song today - I like the words a lot. And it's good to listen to. Here's the words:

Bring The Rain
~MercyMe

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that
I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You

Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty

Plans...

I don't know if I'll follow through on this, because it is a little selfish. And it is also a bit sad, a little pathetic... but it's really what I want. On Mother's day - I want Derek to take his mom out for lunch. And while he's doing that, I want to go to Gramma's grave. By myself. With a little potted plant and a little digging thing, and plant a flower. I don't know if it would live or not... but that's what I want to do. Mother's Day, for me, is the day that I buy a little potted flower and give it to Gramma. And talk to her. And tell her how much she means to me. That I love her. That I couldn't have gotten through my childhood without her. That I owe her more than I could ever repay. That try as I may to be "unique" I'm really just like her. Even the annoying parts - which, though they may be annoying, aren't bad. I can't think of anything bad about her. I know she wasn't a perfect person - had her share of flaws. But really, she's the best woman I've ever known. She's shaped me into who I am - did the best she coulud to make sure I turned out okay. And really, that's what mothers are supposed to be. I've got a mom. I've got a relationship with her that I cherish - a relationship I wasn't sure I'd ever have. Gramma didn't replace her... but, to quote something she wrote in her book to me..."My mother couldn't take care of me & for some unknown reason, neither could yours. I know I can not take her place, but I also know that I loved my grandma as a mother and God made it enough."
That's the best way I know to put it - I loved Gramma fiercely, and in many ways, loved her as a mother (not in PLACE of a mother - just AS a mother). And God made that enough. He made that MORE than enough.
And I just want to spend at least a while on Mother's day with her. I know it's not with her, not really. But if I am there, at her grave, by myself... in the country, where it's quiet and I can really hear myself think, maybe I'll hear something better and more important - God speaking to my heart. Comforting. Encouraging. And maybe He'll help me through, help me know what to do. And maybe, while I'm there in honor of her and in hopes of having God help me... maybe God will let her know that? Maybe she'll see... or maybe He'll tell her... I'm not sure how all that works, but I know there's nothing wrong with asking God to tell her that I love her. And there's definately nothing wrong with asking Him for help and comfort.

When?

So, over all, pain decreasing today. But the localized, sharp pain on the right (deep pain, not surface or muscular) is more intense. Taking two lortab will knock it out, but I can't be doing that much longer - I really don't want to get hooked! I know it's only been a week, but I wonder when that will ease up?

Tomorrow, I go to interview/try out? for a job. As a nanny. For a little boy. I THINK he's five months old, but I'm not sure - I could be wrong on that. I'm hoping this is a good fit - I really would like the extra income ($200 a week isn't a LOT, but it is when it's the compensation for basically hanging out with a little kid for three days). :)

Anyway, I have to go to bed. I'm not really wanting to - I wanna stay up and do mindless things to keep from thinking or feeling, so that I don't miss her, I don't worry about finances, I don't consider that I've been a pretty lousy spouse the past few months... but, I'll go. I'll get past the racing thoughts. And I'll sleep.

Sad night...

I don't know if it's just extra emotions from the painkillers, or from fighting infection (and all the sleep that comes with doing so) or what, but I miss her more than normal right now. I wish so much that I could talk to her. I tried to talk to my husband about it tonight - but all he did was jump in with talking about how cute she was and stuff like that. And laughing about his memories of her. How can I talk about how much I miss her, how much I hurt, when that would take this away from him? I LIKE that he remembers her that way - I LIKE that he's not so upset about it. I LIKE that he can smile and laugh when he thinks about her. I wish it were that same way for me... but it's not. I AM happy for her - and I KNOW she's in heaven, and I know that's for the best (at least for her). I know it's selfish, but I'm sad for me. I don't HAVE any close friends, other than my husband. No women that I can call and talk to about stuff like this. Especially missing the fact that she used to be my advisor. When I didn't know what to do - I could ask her. I don't HAVE that anymore. With anybody. And not only does that hurt, and not only is it hard - I also NEED someone like that. I NEED a Godly woman, one of faith, one who is older, one who is wise, one who is gentle, easy to approach... one who is the sort of person (or at least has some of the qualities) that I want to see myself be. And I don't have it. Selfish though it is, that's one of the hardest things right now.

Clarity

Gonna re-visit the entries regarding my surgery. To say it went well is an understatement. As was explained again today...
The extent of the endometriosis was a shock to the doctor. Not because it's such a horrible disease, but because I am really quite young. And because this is one of those .5% of cases where the complications of the disease could readily become life-threatening. The implants surrounding my ureter would have caused major issues, causing me to possibly loose the kidney (or my life or the life of our baby) had I had a progressing pregnancy, as the flow of urine was obstructed. Had the disease gone undiagnosed for another few years, same problem. One ureter was very bad, the other not quite as bad - but getting there.
Meanwhile, I'm hurting a bit more today in a localized spot on the right. As I think about reasons why, one thing jumps out at me... the implants behind my uterus and to the right were located very very close to a nerve. Meaning that any irritation and/or bleeding would affect that nerve. Meaning that as it heals, there will be more localized pain. Meaning I am no longer worried about that. (Well, the fact that the doctor said as much might play into the not worrying a little too).
There was endometriosis on my uterus, on my tubes, on my ovaries, on my bladder, on my ureters, and my large intestine (as well as abdominal lining, apparently) that she removed. Also, there were a couple small spots on my diaphragm and small intestine, she didn't touch those because they were small and would have been VERY difficult to remove. A lot of adhesions were found, as well, and she released/cauterized/cut those.

As of today, I've got an early infection trying to start in one of the incisions, and possibly a bladder infection. So I'm starting on antibiotics (Ceflax) which will take care of them. If the cultures come back as some unusual strain of bacteria, may add another antibiotic, but the doctor thinks that's pretty unlikely.

Relief

To be honest, I'm relieved. For starters, this surgery should have a VERY positive impact on my fertility. AND it will help each cycle not to be so very miserable. As in no more throwing up, sleeping 16 hours at a shot, and so on. And, to be honest, one of the biggest sources of relief is the fact that this IS NOT all in my head. I've been told by numerous people that our "fertility" issues are there because I need to "just relax" or because it's "not God's time yet" or because we are doing it wrong - wrong position or wrong time. Yes, people have actually said that. Who? Not telling.
Anyway, I still really, really miss Gramma. I wish she was here to celebrate with us - to celebrate this milestone that makes it much more likely that we'll conceive our miracle soon. Wish I could call her up, talk to her on the phone... wish I could hug her, tell her she was loved. Make her something. Write her something. Anything for her...
It's late, though. 12:30 AM. Waiting for the Lortab to kick in... as it is right now, my belly is too sore for sleep. Soon, VERY soon, it will ease off, and I'll have my six hours of relief. Then I'll take a Tramadol and that will hold the edge off enough to sleep a couple more hours, and then I'll take the second tramadol later on (about noon) and that'll see me through the afternoon. I'm HOPING not to need any more tomorrow night, but if I do, that's okay too. I'd like to go down to church tomorrow and talk to Patti about the surgery, let her know how well it went... but if I am all dopey, no can do. We shall see - the pharmacist thought that with the Tramadol I might be able to drive... That would be a bonus.

I feel bad for Derek... he wiped out on his bike today. I haven't checked the bike over, I hope it's not hurt. He'd feel awful if it was. It was a silly mistake on his part - bad angle to cross railroad tracks and down he went. Skinned up his knee and hands, and got a bit of a scrape on his elbow and chin and chest. The way he was whining earlier, I think either he's way over-tired and feeling pain more than normal, or else he's probably got some stuff still in the scrapes. I'll have to have a better look tomorrow - perhaps dope him up with one of my lortab first... We shall see. Meanwhile, he's sleeping peacefully, and I'm grateful.

Had the surgery.

I had the laparoscopy done yesterday. Turns out I'm NOT just a wimp - there was extensive endometriosis (Stage 3), and the doctor was quite suprised - says usually it doesn't get this extensive until later in life (early to mid thirties). She was able to remove a lot of it with a blade, and most of the rest with a laser. There were a few spots she didn't touch, but they were very small and located too close to other structures to be worth the risk. The doctor believes this will not only positively impact fertility, but that it will also drastically improve the monthly symptoms I used to battle.

I'm not INfertile... the correct term is SUBfertile...

Anyway...

Friday is the day I go in for surgery. If I DON'T have endometriosis, I don't know what my problem is... my periods have gotten progressively worse each cycle for the last two years. Before that, I didn't HAVE periods more than two or three times a year, so I wouldn't know if they got worse then... This one, I can hardly eat I'm so sick to my stomach, and I'm SO tired (sleeping 12-16 hours a night, with an afternoon nap), and my pelvic area isn't just crampy - it hurts, a lot. Told Derek that if I didn't KNOW this was from my period, we'd be in the emergency room until it was figured out. I'm so bloated that I wish I had maternity pants - just so I could have something nice to wear in public that didn't cause even more pain. Each time I take a deep breath, my diaphragm hurts all the way across, and pain shoots through my shoulders. I'm dizzy.

Basically, everything that would indicate endometriosis is there... but what if I don't have it? What if I'm just a total and utter wimp? What if it's all in my head? What if it's not all in my head, but they tell me it is? What if they find some reason that the only thing that will ever work for us is IVF? We can't do that. For one, we can't afford that. Although I could find myself more work and generate money specifically for that, I guess... but second, we can't do that because there isn't anywhere around here to do it. Closest is Rochester. Driving there each day for scans, staying overnight for retrieval, staying for 72 hours of bed rest after the transfer... we can't do that. Just can't. Not won't... can't.

I think some people question the idea that we are doing this so soon after Gramma's death. It's been 49 days. Not even a full two months. But back in probably September, or maybe as late as November, we discussed this. And again in December. Before that VERY brief pregnancy... the one with gradually darkening positive HPT results, the negative blood test at 3 weeks 5 days, the dark positive at 4 weeks 1 day, the negative HPT at 4 weeks 3 days, the bleeding and cramping at 4 weeks 4 days... Anyway, that's off topic. We'd discussed that if we had not successfully attained pregnancy, we'd discuss the surgery in March. It's March. Derek and I need to keep living our life. It's not a dishonor to Gramma... in some ways, it's an honor. It's saying "We love you enough, and you taught us enough, and helped us enough, that we can be strong. We can keep going."

And when our little Aileen is born, and Grampa is there to meet her... and her daddy is there and whispers the first words she hears after birth "Jesus is Lord. He loves you, and He always will. Daddy and mommy love you." That will honor her, too. Something she wrote in her cancer journal was that she wondered if she'd get to meet her great-grandkids. On earth, her answer is no... she never did. But in heaven... she's got a head start on the rest of us. She's with Anna now... knows her better than we ever did.

Anyway, that's it for tonight.

Memories...

It's 1:30 AM, Friday the 9 of March. 37 days since she left earth. I was going through e-mails from her, and I found one that simply says... "As the Bible says, "LOVE NEVER FAILS". As long as God remains at the center of your life, nothing will ever be too hard to get through." Another says, "I wish I could comfort you, but there is not a thing that I can say that would be the right words. So I will pray for the Spirit to dwell in you and bring comfort to you. I love you both so much. God is good even in the bad times. His timing is not always ours. Love, Gramma." I hope she's able to see how much her words, in spite of the fact that I cry as I read them, are such a source of comfort right now... it's like she wrote them for this time, even though it was almost a year ago that she wrote them.

Class.

Tonight, I had creative writing class. We were asked to write some "flash fiction." Here's mine.
___________________________________________________________________
Ian stole Sebastian’s lawnmower. It’s not that he was trying to be mean, or had anything against him... he just wanted the lawnmower. In the preschool world, that is grounds for immediate action. So he took it. Like Ian, Sebastian was subject to the thoughts and motives that govern preschool. Sebastian did the most logical thing he could think of, but his teacher’s response was less than enthusiastic. As he looked over her shoulder and saw his dad entering the playground, she sternly said, “Sebastian, we do not run over our friends’ heads with lawnmowers.”
___________________________________________________________________
This morning, Janie showed up for daycare wearing the frilliest dress I had ever seen. Her friend, Carly, seemed unjustifiably fascinated with it. Before lunch, the kids like me to read them a book – and Carly enjoys it more than the rest. But today, she looked concerned when I started, and by page 5, looked ready to explode. Concerned myself, I stopped and asked her if she had something to say.
“Yes, I do. How come Janie looks like a president today?”
I must have looked confused. She clarified, somewhat impatiently, “Her dress. It’s a president dress.”
___________________________________________________________________
Ian screams. Not just when he’s scared or hurt – he also screams when he’s upset or happy. So hearing Ian’s screams behind me on the playground didn’t concern me… at least not right away. After eight in a row, I turned to ask him to stop. He stood, arms pinned to his side, howling. Shaw stood facing him, slapping one cheek, then the other. Shaw does not do well with loud noises. They prompt a violent reaction in him. “Shaw, stop!”“But he’s screaming!”“Do you think if you stop hitting him, he’ll stop screaming?”
“Well, maybe!” he answered brightly.
____________________________________________________________________

Afraid

It's so weird... in so many ways, I'm afraid to be okay... and I'm not sure why. I don't LIKE being miserable - and yet I am afraid not to be. Partly because I feel like I'm SUPPOSED to be, and partly because I guess I'm afraid that if I get all happy again, something else bad will happen. I'm well aware that that's ridiculous, but here I am anyway.

I am working on a couple long term projects - first one is that I am writing books - one to my husband and one to my child(ren), so that if something did happen to me, they'd have that. Sounds morbid, but really... it's not. Gramma did that for me, and although she didn't write much, it's so precious to me. I don't want anything bad to happen to me, EVER, but if it did... I want those left behind to have these.

The other project is that I am making a dollhouse for my future daughter (or if I'm too slow, for my future granddaughter). :) It's almost cathartic to work on it.

Today, I took my final two Lortab - which means tomorrow I'm totally without any serious pain relief, meaning that tomorrow, the knee HAS to start improving.