When you're down to nothing

When you're down to nothing, God is up to something.

Boy, I hope so.

I feel as though I'm losing interest in God, and I'm actually beginning to look at him with some skepticism. For the last several weeks, I keep getting thoughts like, "So what?" At church a few weekends ago, I thought about what a hypocrite I was for sitting in that seat and not being involved in church life at all. Not even a cheque.

A few months ago, I read through one of my dad's Christian magazines/devotionals. In one of the articles, a quotation from an artist struck me. I'll paraphrase it: Every person will reach a time (i.e., the lowest and loneliest ebb of life) during which he or she will choose to walk with God or alone. Ironically, it's that lowest time of life during which God is most present and active. At that time, I dug my fingernails into that idea, because it seemed so true. Now I don't know what to think. Why does God care whether or not I have children? He's got so many other things to worry about: world peace, AIDS, child soldiers, genital mutilation, etc. I feel as though I'm being punished for something, but I don't know what I did. I guess it's that idea that in my weakness, God is strong. Well, he's as strong as Goliath/Aladdin/Sampson/Hercules right now, that's for sure.

I guess everyone feels that at some point in their lives: a trial that appears to be insurmountable. Everyone gets a cross to bear, right? It just seems to me that infertility is one of the worst things that could happen to someone. Worse than losing a job or a home, having a disability, or even losing loved ones. Because we 'barren' women have loved ones whom we've never in our lives seen, held, touched, or smelled even once. What could be worse? If you're an infertile woman, you know what I mean. If not, you could never understand.

You can't understand unless you've been through this. Especially in our hemisphere's culture of instant gratification. I mean, in our world, when you work hard enough to get something, usually you do get it (e.g., if I wanted a new Corvette, I would find another job and work until I could park my seat in its buttery soft interior, kwim? Or I'd just charge it! lol). Everything else I want, pretty much, comes flying at me. I have the world's best spouse, wonderful parents, a great house, a top-notch education, etc. I mean, especially when I consider my career options, I can fly as high as I want. Career options just fall into my lap, it seems.

But I'd give up everything tangible that I own in order to have a family with my dear husband. Gladly. Wouldn't think past this next period. Lol! Oh, for a baby with my husband's eyes . . .

Seriously, though. I am worn down to a nub. This is the hardest thing I've ever gone through. Yesterday marks five years: it's the fifth birthday of my inability to be 100% woman. It's the fifth anniversary of my body's failure to do what even the animals can do without thinking. Five years of listening to quotations like this: Any fool can make a baby. It takes a man [/woman] to raise a child. So I'm even less than a fool, I guess. Or way too much woman? I don't know.

I'm getting pretty tired of waiting, waiting, waiting. Last week, it really hit me at one point that this might be all there is. Dh and me by ourselves. Not that there is anything wrong with that - we love being alone together - but I can't imagine our entire lives together without little mini-mes kicking around. Not when just about everyone else can have them just by sharing soap with someone, practically, for heaven's sake.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with my RE. Hopefully I will be able to get in my first injectable/IUI cycle in this summer before we move and, therefore, lose all of our insurance.

If I get knocked up while we're living out of our province, dh and I have agreed not to tell anyone. It'll be OUR secret that is just between US. Because nothing else has been a surprise for us, not with timed bd'ing, various pokes and prods in the vaginal patch, invasive questions, etc. No finding out, totally by surprise, that I'm 2 or 3 months along. So when it does happen, we'll keep it as a precious secret between us.

Help.