Efforts of a Mustard Seed

This has been brewing for some time...a difficult entry.

Let me just tell you that I've had to work really hard on coping with my sadness and sense of grief and loss regarding my husband and I not being able to have a child together. This last year has been ugly and grueling.  I've lost friendships over my behavior, spewing hurtful things because of the blackness inside.  I backed away from relationships with others that did get pregnant or had new babies near me.  My intimate relationship with my husband suffered, because I thought, "Why bother?"  To say it's been bad is an understatement.   But in the meantime, I suppose it's not surprising, that coupled with the flare-ups of MS symptoms over the winter and spring, my depression increased.   I sought help and guidance through therapy, which has been insurmountable in getting me beyond all of this nastiness.  Currently, I feel like I've come out on the other side of a dark storm, having barely survived, the debris of my efforts scattered.  Relationships seem to still be tender, as people are unsure of my state...given my previous behaviors, I don't blame them.  But, I can look at babies and not fantasize about running off with them, not want to die, and can stay in a grocery line without having to leave my full basket crying.  (God, as I write this, it is still difficult for me to accept I was so bad!) This late spring summer, I learned my sister, cousin, and two best friends are pregnant, all due around the same time...and I didn't lose it and am legitimately happy for them!  Honestly!  I really feel I've come to terms with our situation and am coping much better.  Sure, I'm still sad, we both are.  But I'm also grateful for what I do have.

Just one more thing...(said in Colombo style.  May have some audience members too young to remember him, so just Google it.  It's funny, I swear.).  People that are very close to us, and know exactly what we've been through, know that we had three failed medicated (daily injections, artificial insemination, blah, blah, blah) fertility treatments, on top of all the other testing, blood draws, transvaginal ultrasounds you go through.  We prayed.  We BELIEVED.  People were praying for us.  I lost 42 lbs to get in a better weight range to promote conception.  I stopped drinking (which was literally a couple glasses of red wine/week, not a lot, but something I consciously cut out to optimize my chances, is the point).  The last round, in June, 2013, I was CONVINCED the procedure had taken.  I just knew, within the depths of my heart, that the cramping I was experiencing was implantation (I'll remind you I was pregnant before, so know what it's like).  I just knew, that the spotting occurring was part of implantation.  When I actually started my period, I lost it, fearing I was having a miscarriage.  I never let in the notion that this was just my period coming, as scheduled, per normal.  Maybe my desperation had to do with knowing we couldn't afford any more treatments, so this was it for medical assistance and intervention.  I don't know what it was back then, but thinking back...it's just that's what I believed, with every thread of my being, that it had worked and I was pregnant.  I had told my husband so.  I told friends and family so.  I BELIEVED.  Hopefully with this part of the story, it helps you understand why I "lost it" soon after.  

The thing that has been bothering me lately is recently overhearing someone who is aware of our story say, "Well, all it takes is the faith of a mustard seed."  ......um, what?  I did, I DO have the faith of a mustard seed.  Is it the suggestion then, that because we did not get pregnant, that it was my lack of faith?  It seems like it, huh?  ...and I'm unbelievably hurt...and angry...and sad... I'm not one that subscribes to the philosophy of, "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be," or, "God has a different plan for us."  That's not the way I was raised.  I was taught the scriptures of Matthew, where it states, "Ask, and ye shall receive, " and "If you believe, you shall receive."  Not to get all churchy on you, I'm just saying, I know what I'm talking about and when I say these words, "I BELIEVE!" I know all that that means.  Wow.  I'm having some difficulty getting beyond that: is it really my fault then??  Was there a sprinkle of doubt in the back of my head that sabotaged our efforts?? 

Maybe because I'm not crazy anymore, I'm getting the itch to pursue assistance again and determine the probability of us getting pregnant.  I'm wondering if it's a second chance to prove I have the faith of a mustard seed, or not to bother, because I clearly don't.  What I also remembered on a long run (clarity during a long run - do figure! :P) was that my drive last summer in training for the Half was because of this: because I was so convinced the last treatment worked, I remember for a brief second being disappointed that I wouldn't be able to run the Inaugural Detroit Women's Half Marathon.  So when it didn't work, I figured I jinxed myself (I don't even believe in jinxes, so that gives an indication of where my head was already), and owed it to the baby I couldn't have, to train for it and conquer it.  I rarely gave up last summer.  This summer, every excuse that comes my way, I take.  I'm nowhere near where I should be, could be, and want to be.  

I'm trying to reconcile harnessing the motivation I had last year, without the life-altering loss, as well as wrapping my head around mustard seeds and next efforts.