thankful is she.

It’s Thanksgiving morning, and we are hosting Chris’ side of the family for a late lunch in a bit. I’ve enjoyed a quiet morning of pj’s and the parade, only missing a cup of coffee. My side of the family is all gathered at my brother’s house this year; holidays are definitely one of those times I wish I could just click my heels to travel back and forth between the festivities. {I would definitely skip out on all of the cleaning up, I can promise you that! Ha!}

I have the table all set and a real cornucopia baking in the oven {haha…probably a Pinterest fail in the making, but it sounds quite Thanksgiving-y, doesn’t it?} The glittered place settings are out, simple centerpieces in place, and there are even big paper-bag turkey drumsticks hung on a garland with care.

There is so much to be thankful for this year…as I’ve been counting my many blessings and naming them one by one, I’ve realized that many of them are messy, that I’ve been on a journey of learning a bit more about the ‘hard thanksgiving’ than I knew before, and that some people would consider a few of my blessings more like inconveniences and curses. That being said, those blessings, the ones that were hard-fought, are the very same ones that have drawn me nearer to Christ and are the same tools He has been using to change me from the inside out. I will count them as blessings, even as I look toward the future and know that there is still the possibility of more ‘hard thanksgivings’ to come. What are blessings, after all, if they aren’t something draws us nearer to God and point to Him?

I’ve also learned this year that thanksgiving always precedes the miracle…and I am so overwhelmed with gratitude that this year, we get to count 4 precious little ones among our blessings. Late Tuesday evening, we received word that the contracts are in and finalized…the adoption of our embryos is complete! Hopefully shipment will be finalized sometime next week, and then we’ll begin the medical process to prepare for our first transfer. The real-ness of it all is still settling in for me…whereas Chris took to the proud daddy role quite easily. It’s really sweet to see his reaction, and that in itself has been something I am thankful for.

I can’t mention our little ones without just becoming weepy at the thought of the family to whom we owe a great debt of gratitude this Thanksgiving season. I can do nothing but pray blessings upon blessings on this couple who made the choice of life for their embryos, gifted us with the opportunity for a family, and shined the glory of Christ as they made a decision that many would be unable to make. I pray that God would just wrap them up in His arms today…that they would know in their hearts how thankful a family many miles away is for their giving hearts. I wish I could hug them myself…I pray that I get the chance to know them more in the future.

This has been quite a year…my heart overflows with thankfulness when I think about our family and close friends…for the ones who have prayed for us faithfully, spoken words of encouragement, given of their time and money to help us raise money for our adoption expenses, and put up with crazy ol’ me…who has been tightly wound and a snotty mess more than I would care to admit.

Last holiday season was very bittersweet, and my smiles didn’t always reach my eyes. This year I am entering the holiday season with a happy and expectant heart, knowing that what God has for me is far beyond what I could ever dream of for myself. I am thankful most of all for Him. For the way He doesn’t leave us alone in our sufferings or confusion, for the way He makes the bitter things sweet. For the beauty He surrounds us with, and for the peace He pours into us through His Spirit. He is good, and He has been good to me.

Thank you Lord…from the bottom of this messy, beautiful, broken heart that you are making new.

Blessed am I.

every bitter thing is sweet.

I mentioned in a post a few days ago that I recently read a book called “Every Bitter Thing is Sweet: Tasting the Goodness of God in All Things” by Sara Hagerty. It is an excellent read and really challenged me; it reminded me of “1,000 Gifts” by Ann Voskamp. Good stuff.

Following are a few of Sara’s thoughts that really resonated with me…some of them will only really make sense if you’ve read the book and understand the context through which she was speaking…so go read it! ūüôā

*Grief’s tide can’t be predicted.

*Like most pain, until you have known it for yourself, you are blind to it.

*The book I’d once used to plan youth ministry talks, the book I’d once used to quote pithy sayings and to confirm opinions I’d already formed, that book at found its way into my deep. The God behind it was proving Himself to be fundamentally different than what I’d supposed for at least a decade, maybe more. But I was finding Him. In all the placed I had feared most and spent a lifetime avoiding, He was meeting me. My worst, my very worst, moments were getting rewritten without circumstances changing. I was getting acquainted with the kind of deep satisfaction that bad news can’t shake. He was showing me Himself as strong enough. He was letting me hide in Him, letting me find a safe place.

*Like any good story, time revealed it’s layers.

*The Father had forged a connection, even before our eyes stared into theirs.

*Each of us was a new part of a new whole, though God had known us as “us” since the beginning of time. We had a history together, though we’d lived apart. We’d each known brokenness and loss, yet with no concept of how those paths would merge into each other’s beauty one day.

*When my lips brushed Eden’s forehead for the first time, a holy vindication echoed throughout the heavens. My life surfaced a win, His win. It had always been there, but now I could touch it. Evidence that God not only loved me but liked me and enjoyed me something I’d spent decades subtly refuting now worked its way into my visible story. I got to sweep aside the ashes of years and try on beauty.

*And now, here I was, in the unfolding fulfillment of many (though not all) circumstances, living wildly alive. God’s signature over my barrenness, over my broken story, once unknown, was now a spiritual branding on my flesh. It said: God is good…to me.

*Marriage would be the first of many times to come when I needed to love in a way that reflected a characteristic of God that was yet unfamiliar to me.

*My mess wouldn’t forever be a curse. One day it would be my crown. One day it would tell the story that yes, He is good…to me.

*I often pictured the future from the perspective of fear, as if imagining the worst-case scenario might allow me to prepare myself. But God comes highly to prepare, and with a grace He’ll release only in that moment, not in advance.

*The fact that her experience made it impossible for her to connect with me made her healing words wounding.

*As with any calling, we dip our toes into the water of yes and hope to God that this is the biggest yes we’ll have to utter, the biggest move our hearts will have to make with such trust, only to find ourselves submerged, years later.

*Fear loses oxygen when every moment suspends itself under the purpose of bringing Him glory, of knowing His name and His nature. Sometimes, instead of leading us up and out of those very fears, big and small, He let us live them. He gives us over to them. Because it’s in this giving over to our fears that we find the perfect love that frees us from them. Forever.

*Again, it was looking at Him, long and rightly, that was performing miracles. Adoration makes walking with God more than just reacting to a series of externals. Adoration calls the circumstances, no matter how high or low, into proper submission in our hearts. Adoration roots us in a reality that no amount of pain and no amount of blessing can shake.

*Adoration steadies us. It repatterns our thinking. It centers our lives around a God-man instead of forever trying to make sense of the God-man through the lenses of our circumstances. Adoration aligns us under Him. This is the place where life is found.

*I knew that my womb wasn’t the only thing barren. My inability to respond with trust, to lean, to rest peacefully in what God could do, but hadn’t done, exposed me.

*My instant response to that moment over my bathroom sin, to many moments like it, was far from eyes-on-Him. Instead of saying, ‘Show yourself as Healer,’ I asked ‘Why haven’t you healed me?’ Instead of saying ‘Show me the Daddy side of you,’ I asked ‘Why aren’t you Daddy to me?’ Instead of saying, ‘Show me Yourself as Comforter of those in pain,’ I asked ‘Why all the pain?’ My questions revealed my resistance to the vulnerability God loves. If I’d let it, weakness would continue to produce a need in me that would draw me nearer to Him.

*The question of pain, it’s buried deep in my bones. It is my story, though I’ve barely traveled the circumference that others have,not even to the half. But God wants me to know that the nearness of Him in response to the deepest questions of my story, the kind of nearness that, when realized, heals.

*Many of us, with bodies broken, find comfort by accepting what we’ve loosely defined as God’s sovereignty. After all, hope is awkward in a life of living by sight. It’s messy. It’s vulnerable.

*But God was healing me, even while I waited on His healing.

*My awareness of my infertility was as variable as the rain. Some days it was a drizzle in the backdrop of my story, and other days it was a downpour altering my whole day.

*This was love. One long conversation, not interrupted by adversity but enhanced by it.

*But I was wounded, and the wounded set up provisions for their comfort.

*The truth is nothing about adoption is safe. We sign papers and write checks and make timelines as if any part of this process is secure, and then we’re shocked when the battle waged in the heavens over these children’s lives encompasses the natural.

*Hope had done what it always does: it preceded us.

*The odds were no longer what gave my heart stability. Endurance was producing character. Character was becoming hope. I walked into the embassy, expectant.

*I was a different woman than the one I had been before my life unraveled, because God had become to me a different God than the one I’d contrived Him to be when it was all working as it should.

*Just as soon as I remembered the sharp moments of pain, I remembered the nearness of the Father, who came right into the middle of the them. Both memories – the sting of pain and the balm of His coming to me in my pain – were vibrant, real again, but it was now as if His presence during that pain overshadowed the memory of the pain itself.

*The lowest points of pain and some of the sweetest touches of Him came back to me as I heard the words of that song that had broken my fall and cradled me. I knew my life would need hundreds, thousands of such moments across my life for my heart to grow. I couldn’t eat yesterday’s bread today. I had to continue to hunger both in the pain and in the ordinary.

*But in all seasons of searing grief, times of great redemption, times of the mundane, every single moment was pregnant with His whisper: Come, let us run together. Come find me. Here.

*To know Him is to hope for the impossible.

*Even those closest to you will challenge it, as the world around you collapses, but hope is your greatest weapon because it is His invitation into the unseen. Hope requires a true view of God. And that true view of God is not natural. It’s from Him. One day, the Unseen will be more real to you than what your eyes can perceive.

****

Blessed am I.

he knows me.

What an emotional weekend. There were highs. There were lows. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Well…maybe not the teeth thing.

Except that Chris and I got into a pretty epic argument…so yeah, keep the gnashing.

There’s a lot of pressure in life right now…the husband is still on the job search. Praise God he has a job currently {which will last for a while yet} but between knowing that the end is coming and the plan is for babies to be on the way soon…it’s just a lot. Between that, the general emotional tightrope we walk because of our embryo adventure, and the busy pace we {mostly I} have been keeping up for a while…the atmosphere around our house has not been conducive to getting along.

Alas, we are married and we are grown ups and we want to be parents and we’ve got to get a grip. And so, peace has found it’s way into our home again. ūüôā

My emotions hit a climax, oddly enough, in one of Target’s Christmas aisles. I was looking at this sweet little wooden nativity set & planning on buying a few. One for my friend L & her little one on the way, one for the little nugget my sister-in-law is expecting, and one for my niece & nephew to play with until we have little ones to join in on the nativity fun. I was having mostly warm-fuzzy baby thoughts {but you just gotta know that underneath everything is this layer of anxiety that threatens to bubble through} when I heard a dad down the aisle from me call for his daughter to come on. Not a big deal seemingly, except that her name is the same one we’ve chosen if we have a girl…and she goes by the nickname that both Chris & my dad have said they would call her.

I didn’t totally lose it then {that happened on the way home in the car, while talking to my mom} but I did tear up pretty good. Managed to hold it together mostly because I didn’t want to look like a crazy lady in Target. {Can’t have Target thinking badly of me, now can I?}

So yes. Marriage in itself between two people who can come at things quite differently can be interesting enough. Add all of these questions marks into the equation, throw in a baby shower {for one of my very best friends who I was so thrilled to bless in this way}, add in the first ultrasound picture of my new niece or nephew {I can’t decide if I’m hoping for a girl or boy at this point}, and the general frustration of being a public school teacher in these crazy times and the odds are high that there’s going to be some weeping from time to time. ūüėõ

I’m also fresh on the heels of finishing up a really good book…one that I’m still working my way through in my mind a bit…so I’ll blog about that more later. My take away for tonight is that I am so incredibly humbled and grateful that God knows me.

He knows me when I’m barely holding it together in a Target Christmas aisle and can’t decide if the tears threatening to spill out are happy or sad.

He knows me when I’m so mad and frustrated with this husband of mine for reasons that I can’t even wholly put my finger on because there are just *so*many*feelings*all*the*time.

He knows me when I’m feeling betrayed once again by my own body, the one who is adding to the complications, not taking away from them.

He knows me when I’m marveling over an ultrasound that I can make no sense of {I mean, who can really tell what all of those fuzzy body parts are anyway?!}, when I’m trying to get the tiniest details right on my best friends baby shower.

He knows the fear that lurks within me. He knows the courage I fight to maintain, the grace I want to live out.

 

He knows me. The good, the bad, the ugly.

He knows the parts I don’t even know myself…the parts I struggle to figure out and work my way through.

He knows me. And because of that, if for no other reason, blessed am I. 

Blessed, blessed am I. 

***As a new week begins, I’m praying that our contracts will finally be finalized {turns out our donor family missed the e-mail that held the contract…bit of a bummer, but what can ya do?} and that my body will get on board with this new birth control regimen. I did have some fun today knowing that the flowers I ordered for the 3 ladies we’ve worked with at Nightlight were supposed to be delivered. We are so thankful for all of their help, encouragement, prayers, advice…they have been incredible. Worth every penny. We literally could not have walked this path without them…so it was fun to have a way to show them a bit of our thanks.

 

last week.

Last week was a doozy…busy at school, busy at church in the evenings, busy getting ready for a birthday party I was decorating for this past weekend {my first paid gig!}. Good overall, and got a lot done…but wow.

On top of it, I started birth control on Monday. Step 1 in prepping my body to accept our embryos.

My body must know what’s going on though. It’s been rebelling against me for going on a year now…why would I expect it to be any different now. ūüėČ All that praying and hoping the period I was finishing up would be the last one for a looong time must have made it decide to rage on 5 days longer than it should have…5 days into the birth control. The nurse assured me that I was fine, that it was normal. But wowza.

On top of that, I’ve really been noticing that my already thin hair appears to be thinning. If I’m not careful with my part, I end up with a cowlick {is that how you spell that?} that¬†goes way too far down the back of my head. When I pull my hair into a ponytail, I have to be really careful to¬†feather my¬†hair out over the little¬†areas where¬†scalp is showing.

It’s not cool, to say the least.

I talked with my¬†hairdresser & friend about it when I got my hair cut this week, and she said that oftentimes when someone goes through a time of¬†major stress, their hair starts to fall out a bit afterwards.¬†Just your bodies way of trying¬†to recoup¬†I guess. If that’s what the problem is, she¬†said eventually it would stop and my¬†hair would thicken back up a bit.

Being so busy meant I didn’t have time to work out, and all I felt like eating was junk. {Maybe the birth control had something to do with how overly bloated I felt all week…or it could have been the extra carbs I seemed to keep putting in my mouth.}

I’m not super informed on what medications, etc I’ll have to take before the transfer, but I know there is a chance that things will only get weirder from here.

All will be well…just praying for a calmer week with my body! ūüėČ

Blessed is she.

my little piece of Jesus.

I’ve been following Elisha from “Waiting for Baby Bird” for a while now. Last week she posted something that really resonated with me, so I want to share it here. Her post was about Mark 9:37 – “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes not only me but the Father who sent me” and she wrote about her revelation that the little girl they are fostering is ‘her little piece of Jesus.’ By welcoming her, she welcomes Jesus.

It was so encouraging to me. I’ve often thought of our embryos, and the hundreds of thousands like them, as ‘the least of these.’ I love the thought that because of that they are a little piece of Jesus.

It’s a beautiful sentiment.

ūüôā

Blessed am I.

*After note – Today Elisha posted about the craziness that is the acronyms associated with TTC {trying to conceive}. They had me snorting because I have read entire conversations on the embryo adoption facebook groups I’m in where I was completely lost. It’s driven me crazy on more than one occasion! “What’s the Magic Code?”

Nothing is wasted.

Now that we are moving closer and closer toward bringing our embryos “home,” people are starting to make a connection they hadn’t really thought through before.

“So wait…what are the odds this will work?”

“I mean…you might not actually end up pregnant after all this?”

“Surely your doctor knows what your odds are of this working…”

I even had one conversation in which the response to realizing that this ‘wasn’t a sure thing’ was “What a waste! Wow…you could do all of this, spend all of that money and time…and for nothing?!”

In that moment I realized that this a line of thought that others probably share with him. He wasn’t speaking out of a place of meanness…he probably wasn’t thinking about how that sounded or what it implied at all. I realized that Chris and I needed to pow-wow and work out our response in case this conversation repeats itself.

Because nothing…nothing…about embryo adoption is a waste.

Do we face the potential of loss? Yes, definitely. We could lose a significant amount of money {at most…about $16k}. We could lose a significant amount of time {up to a year or more of trying to conceive in this way, plus countless hours of coordinating all of this}. Both of those sting…and I’m not saying we wouldn’t lose a little sleep / have some anxiety to work out with God if that were the case.

But even bigger that that, we could lose 4 little lives.

It’s there, in that thought, that I’m brought back to why God called us to this. To why, no matter what happens, this will not have been a waste.

What I¬†was able to reconcile¬†that day is that one way or another, those 4 little ones will live. God will either make it so they live here on earth with us, or He will take them home and they will live abundantly with Him eternally. Either way, by the time we have had the opportunity to thaw¬†/ transfer all 4 {that could take up to 2 transfers}, they will be released from the ‘suspended state’ they are now in. The life that God created when He began to knit them together will resume. Nothing about that is a waste.

God is life, God speaks life, and God calls us to life. He calls us to life abundant.

I want to live out of that abundance. Out of that life. I find peace there…I am able to fight the fear that’s always lurking in my mind with that knowledge. It isn’t to say I won’t be heartbroken if God does not choose to continue their life here with Chris & I, but I will not grieve as someone without Jesus would.

The other really important thing that I realized that day is that I don’t need to know what odds the doctor would give us. I’m sure he’ll have one for us…based on the ‘quality’ of the embryos and a variety of other factors. But at this point, a statistic does nothing for me. This is happening. We are going to be thawing & transferring embryos, God willing.

I know if we don’t do it, our chances of celebrating a successful pregnancy is 0%, so any odds have to be better than that. ūüėČ I know that statistics mean nothing to a God that can do anything, and I know that if I don’t guard myself against that I have the potential to get really caught up in that and become anxious and afraid. I know that God holds us, and our embryos, in His hands…and that we are safe there. I know that His plan is good.

So that’s where I’m at. Concentrating on what I know rather than what could / couldn’t be. Celebrating the life that will be, no matter how the world or others view it. Thanking God that with Him, nothing is wasted.

Blessed am I.

¬†“Care more than some think is wise,

risk more than some think is safe,

dream more than some think is practical,

expect more than some think is possible.”

The feelings.

How are there so many feelings? And at the same time, so few?

This has been a weird ride.

I wish I had time to write on this a few days ago…but October has to be one of the busiest months in an elementary school…so yeah. I had to deal with the feelings as they came and move on with it. No time to write them all down. ūüôā

I feel like up to the match my feelings have been pretty well documented on this little blog. Initially they were raw, overwhelming…and they left little room in my mind or heart or soul for anything else. In that brief, intense period of grief and mourning and surrender I felt closer to God than at any other point in my life. It was beautiful because of that…but feelings to that depth and level aren’t sustainable for long periods of time. When God called us to adoption & put a new joy in our hearts, it was a relief to not have everything bubbling so close to the surface. We were excited, I was in full on learning/reading/educating myself mode. We got a crib for Christmas, I dreamed of little baby things and nurseries. It was a sweet time of sweet feelings.

From there we pretty much moved into feelings of amazement¬†& awe as we began to consider that God might be calling us to embryo adoption…which led to questions. So many questions. Another crisis of faith and more calling out to God. This was when the feeling of terror really began to rear it’s head…a by-product of the total lack of control I felt over our situation.

Once again, I entered a season of ‘doing’ as we signed on with an agency, talked with doctors, set-up a homestudy, etc. I fought the terror, got busy with the ‘doing,’ and wept with gratitude as our community of friends and family joined together to raise just over $5,000 through a mega-garage sale for our adoption fees. Again, lots of feelings…many of them so humbling.

The season of waiting wasn’t my most graceful period. Cranky¬†&¬†impatient battled with hopeful & anticipation. {Granted, I think¬†I could have done a much, much worse job of waiting…I just struggled to wait as gracefully as my heart desired.}

Then in September, the possible match. We were interested, yet guarded. I wrote several posts during that time about how I felt God was asking me to make myself vulnerable once again to the feelings…to opening my heart. After our initial steps forward, we were back to waiting for bloodwork and doctors approval, and school was so busy that feelings were limited. It was during this time that we found out my brother & sister-in-law are expecting and dealt with the unexpected mix of happy & sad, joy & sting.

So when the match came…when we got the congratulatory e-mail and called our families to share the news…we felt surprisingly little. The strongest emotion was relief, but it was all really anti-climatic. My mom, who knows me better than I know myself sometimes, called me later that evening to ask if I felt like I was still guarding myself from feeling the joy of this moment, this match. In all honesty, I didn’t know what was wrong with meit was as though there had been so many feelings leading up to this moment that when it came…we didn’t have any feelings left to sit in. I knew I didn’t feel like we had made the wrong decision or that we should have declined the match…I truly just felt like the valve had opened and we were able to release some of the pressure we had felt for so long.

The next day I called the doctor’s office & agency just to confirm that everything really was a go, and Kelly {the director of the Snowflake program at Nightlight} talked with me a bit about how we were feeling. She was able to assure me that we were completely normal, saying that this phase of the process is all just so surreal. You know you are being matched with these embryos, and yet you don’t have them. She spoke to how unsettled it often all still feels, and said that most people start to feel more present in the moment once the embryos are successfully shipped to their doctors office. As always, talking with her helped me immensely. {We have lots of people who love us to talk with, but they are experiencing this alongside us.} I am part of a few Facebook groups of people who have done this, but while I have made some connections there I don’t know them well enough to trust them with the struggle of figuring out my feelings. Kelly has been a wonderful resource for us in that way.

My joy began to grow exponentially as I shared with more friends and family and prayer warriors our answered prayer. There were tears, laughing, a literal jump for joy {or two!}, happiness, praise, pride…the more I opened up to others, the more my own heart began to swell with joy and the reality of the HUGE prayer God had answered. Joy really does become more complete when it is shared!

In the days since accepting the match, I’ve gone back to ‘doing.’ Coordinating the clinic with the agency is no small feat! There have been forms to fill out, contracts to sign / notarize, big fat checks to mail. With each step it sets in more and more that this is really happening. It really hit me the day we went to sign the contract…I was just completely overwhelmed with emotion and couldn’t help but crying as I realized how close we are getting to this dream becoming a reality. It was a big day for us. ūüôā

By God’s grace & provision, I have been able to keep the fear at bay, and right now we are resting in a really happy, thankful, calm place. I’m trying to take it in…these moments of ‘normalcy’…knowing that it will hopefully be changing in the near future.

There are definitely new feelings starting to move in and unpack…still working my way through those. I’ll get them figured out soon…but I can say that they aren’t bad.

As a matter of fact, there is a strong possibility that they are momma feelings.

God is good.

Blessed am I.

 

 

The only words that matter.

*Previously written…saved to post until the official word was out there. ūüôā

This past week, on a Tuesday evening, I received a call from¬†a nervous, voice-shaking daddy-to-be who was calling to tell us of the baby on the way…an unexpected and happy surprise.

That new daddy is my little brother.

C & J have been married for just over 3 months…their baby will arrive a week or so before their first wedding anniversary. While we all knew a baby was a possibility, I think it’s safe to say everyone was pretty shocked that one is on the way this quickly. This little one will be the first grandchild for my parents, and for her parents as well. It’s big news, and it’s wonderful.

There’s no point in lying; pregnancy announcements…they tend to sting.¬†By God’s grace¬†& our love for my brother and his wife {along with our genuine feelings of happiness for them and our family} Chris and I reacted well to the surprise. I’m so glad…you don’t get to ‘re-do’ your reaction to something big like that.

It took a bit of time for us to process the news…we each have our own way. Chris tromped around outside for a bit, I had to sort all of the feelings out…figure out what was what. I knew I was excited and happy, shocked and surprised. Mixed in were feelings of anxiety / sadness¬†over our own waiting for a baby…frustration that things aren’t as easy for us as we’d hoped or would like for them to be.

I’ve learned through this whole process that I have to do this…identify the feelings. What they are, where they are coming from, if they are a representation of truth, if they can be changed. And once I had everything sorted out, I was standing toe-to-toe with the real¬†source of my troubled heart & mind.

The feeling that I…we…my whole family…had been cheated. Robbed. Lost something precious to us. A lot of my brother’s nerves were that of a man who has just found out he was going to be a father…but some of them were because he had to call us, knowing the struggle we’ve been through to have a baby. My sister-in-law, who has been our biggest cheerleader, was trying to¬†speak encouraging words to me…even as we were marveling over their news. Instead of calling to celebrate the news together, my mom was texting me to make sure we were okay.

I realized that even when they got married and I knew a baby was a possibility, I never really thought through the idea that they might have a baby before us. Generally I like to think things through and prepare everyone for the appropriate feelings / reactions / etc. {This started after Chris failed miserably at telling me that my grandma had just passed away. I wish I was joking, but it’s true.}

Anyway, all that to say I was not prepared for how this happy news would now carry this weight of sadness because of our “situation.”

And after I got done feeling that sadness…I moved {pretty quickly} into being pissed off about it. Ugly cry pissed off.

{“Infertility…you SOB…you’ve taken a lot from me. I didn’t see this one coming though…didn’t realize you would cost¬†us this.” ~me}

After going back and forth about talking to my mom that night, I texted her and said we could talk about anything and everything as long as it wasn’t about me or Chris. She agreed, of course, and it was just what I needed. We shared our excitement and shock sans pity or “your turn is coming.” {Not that you would have done that Mom, it was just the last thing I needed.}

By the next day, Chris & I both shared a resolve to experience every bit of joy this new baby is bringing to our family…we want every bit of it. We called my brother and reassured him that we’re okay and asked that they not hold anything back from us. {Turns out my dad basically told him the same thing…that if C tried to spare my feelings he would just end up hurting them…smart dad.} Mom got the same call, and I got a “thata girl” from Dad.

Our infertility struggles are separate from this little blessing of a baby…and pretty much from that day forward everyone has acted accordingly. So much so that I am tired of writing about it. Just too many words.

So here are the only words that really matter…

We’re going to be an aunt & uncle again!

Blessed am I.

*In the days following, Chris and I found out that our match is official, and mom found a sign that says “Grandma’s: Where cousins go to become best friends.” How sweet is that?