(I'm apologizing in advance because this post is rather scattered and very long. I'm sad and aggravated enough to not be forming my thoughts clearly.)

Tonight my DH decided to read over my shoulder while I was doing my last little bit of Bumping before bedtime. Since he was watching the screen, (in fact as I type he's reading over my shoulder) I start explaining the different boards, i.e. This is GP, BOTB, and here's 1st Tri.

I tell him that 1st Tri usually makes me want to pull my hair out when I lurk there b/c it seems like every other post is a r/p of one of six or eight different questions and it drives me crazy that people can't look back a couple of pages or at the top of the board at the commonly asked questions for pete's sake...(but I digress)

So, I'm explaining this stuff to him and I say "Why do I keep coming back to this board?" which was, of course, a rhetorical question, but then my DH says "Probably the same reason you keep calling your mother." At which point I start laughing, and say "I guess I can't help myself" (laughing more) "omg, I have to post about this now." But when I started writing about all this stuff, it got so long and sounded more like a blog post, so here it is, me asking myself why I call my mother when I know it isn't going to turn out right.

Long story shortish, my mom and I don't have that great a relationship. She divorced my dad when I was about 18 months old, took me to a different state and then I didn't see my dad for a few years. From approx. age 2-3 until age 8 (when I moved in with my dad), we lived in about 7 different houses and 5 different school districts with several different boyfriends and 1 2nd husband (he lasted about 6 months). Then my mother disappears for 3 years, I think I talked to her maybe twice a year from age 8 to age 11 when she reappeared with my newborn brother. Fast forward to a few months before my wedding when she tells me she isn't coming, she can't afford it (nevermind my grandma would pay for her travel and new clothes), and did I want her to get fired from her job just to come to my wedding? So, fast forward again to Feb. 2008 when my husband almost dies. I don't call my mom b/c I don't want to deal with her, yet she calls the ICU unit a few days after the injury to talk. The conversation was mostly good, but then when she finds out I'm okaying the tracheostomy and PEG tube placement, she is horrified and don't I know he'll never come off those and would he want to live like that. (This is the same miracle man who was breathing on his own and eating mere weeks after this phone conversation) I guess what I'm trying to say is that my mom and I don't really see eye to eye, and our interactions usually involve me biting my tongue and her rewriting our family history to please/martyr herself.

So, today she calls out of the blue while I'm at church. I call her back this evening, she's obviously intoxicated, and she proceeds to tell me:
1: Grandma is dying (doing chemo for stage III primary peritoneal cancer) and the next time she sees me will be at Grandma's funeral.
2: if DH and I don't conceive after 1 year we should adopt, and having a surrogate mother is greedy b/c there's so many kids in need of a home.
3: she must have done something wrong as a mother b/c we haven't conceived yet and I was supposed to be skinny and tall (I'm 5'5.5" and far from skinny).
4: She was sleeping with a couple other guys besides my dad when she got pg with me (and was on a starvation diet), and my dad nagged her into marrying him, and she's still not sure to this day who my biological father is b/c one of the other guys is a redhead.

On my end of the phone: **crickets chirping** "What was that, Mom?"

Needless to say, I was not exactly happy with my mom's newest revelation, and our phone call ended shortly thereafter. I then felt the need to find reassurance in the many pics I have of myself and my dad, and reminded myself that I have his weird toes, his earlobes, and that my sister and I share a funky mole in the exact same spot on our wrists. Thanks Mom. (NOT)

I then complained to my husband "Why do I call her? I know it's going to end badly, why do I do it?" DH: "I don't know, but you keep calling her." And he's right (darn him), I guess I can't help myself.

My epiphany for the day: I lurk in the 1st Tri boards b/c it's there and I call my mom b/c she's my mom. I know I'm not a "good" daughter to her, but she's not really a "good" mom to me and I love her anyways, if only because I should.

I guess I'm always going to feel guilty for loving my step-mom and for calling her when I'm in need of mom stuff. I will have to come to terms with knowing that I will mourn the loss of my step-mom more deeply than when my mother dies, even though I will be sad and feel her void in my life. And I will have to accept that my step-mom will be more of a grandma to my future children than my mother, even if the ovarian cancer wins and my stepmom doesn't meet my children here on earth. Part of me feels like a traitor, guilty, and yet the other part of me feels like God knew my mom would be like this and He sent my stepmom to complete our family.

After typing all this out and then re-reading it, well, I'm still confused, irritated, and feeling a little guilty but I'm a little more at peace with how I feel about my mother. Now to decide if I share this newest gem with my dad...

Well, that's a headache for another day. Right now all I'm sure about is I'm not going to make the same mistakes with my children as my mom has with me. I'll just make all new ones, hopefully with better results!

The Waiting Game

I still haven't decided which is worse, waiting for AF to arrive or waiting to ovulate. Since I'm currently waiting to ovulate (or have it confirmed), this is the worst! :) On the bright side, we're currently on day 3 of a 5-6 day snuggle marathon in hopes of having great timing this month. I'm actually surprised we've managed the everyday thing so far, that is so not our usual...But we're having fun with it!

We had good news and bad news from the family this last week. Good news is that my sister is pregnant again! She had miscarried at about 6 weeks a few months ago, and so far this time is looking pretty good. Her bloodwork looks great, they saw the yolk sac and I think a heartbeat at the ultrasound, and even though she's spotted a little bit things are looking pretty good. We are so thankful. I've got a good feeling about this pregnancy for her, and I hope and pray I'm right.

Bad news is that my husband's uncle is going to have to have surgery again. He is having problems with the blood vessels around his heart, and will have to go in for a fourth surgery soon. My husband's maternal family has a long and serious cardiac history, his mother had her first of several strokes at age 30, and several heart attacks thereafter. Needless to say, I am praying for him and his family in this difficult time.

So, life these days is just a bunch of waiting. Waiting to conceive, waiting for the chemo to work, waiting for good news, waiting for our new niece/nephew, waiting for the weekend, waiting and waiting and waiting some more... Sometimes it is hard to remember to stop waiting and start doing.

So, my newest To Do list:
1. Be thankful for what I have when I have it.
2. Find at least one thing to be joyful about every day, no matter what is going wrong.
3. Tell the people I love how much I care for them at every opportunity.
4. Practice patience and remember that no matter how in control I think I am, God is in control and things happen in his perfect time.
5. Pray about everything, everywhere, and all the time.
6. When the going gets tough, and the tough is(are) dragging serious butt, see #s 1 - 4. Repeat as necessary.

Goodbye Prettyish Chart, Hello Cycle #6

I had such hopes for this last cycle. ::sigh:: It has been my first "normal" cycle in oh, let's see, about 14 months. And by normal, I mean no mid-cycle bleeding/spotting, decent EWCM, no large amounts of dizziness mid cycle, and my "normal" pattern of menstruation at the beginning. (I'm comparing to my "normal" pre-BCP cycles, not during the pill/depo shots) The cross hairs were a great bonus, even if they were dotted. ;)

However, even with as excited as I was about last cycle, I think a part of me knew that this wasn't "it" for Ben and I. And surprisingly, I think I'm ok with that. If I'm really honest with myself, I'm more sad about not being able to make my stepmom a grandmom for Mother's Day and her birthday, and not being able to tell my grandmother really good news. Ever since the confirmation of "O" day, I've been praying for a BFP, but I've also been praying that if it's not this month, I still have faith that we'll be blessed. I also told God that I wouldn't promise to not to be disappointed, but I imagine he already knew that.

I think that my appt. with my clinican (I've always gone to Planned Parenthood for gyn things) really took a weight off my shoulders. To have her confirm that my cycles were not normal, and that Ben and I shouldn't wait a year if we were really concerned about it...Well that's really all I needed to hear. She agreed that with Ben's injury, our ages, and my crazy cycles (i.e. amenorrhea from Feb '08-Dec '08, off BCP in Aug '08) did merit some concern; she agreed that my PCP wasn't right to blow me off and tell us not worry about it for a year, at least. (which still makes my blood boil- she didn't even listen to my concerns!)

So, now I sit here with day two of awful, gut wrenching cramps and heavy bleeding (sorry if this is TMI), and I'm ok with it. I'm planning ahead to probable "O" time, which should work out for prime and sub-prime snuggling with our schedules (maybe one day of not-gonna-happen time, but that's ok). I'm hoping and praying as before that this month will be our month, that this month we'll be able to give everyone some great news, and that this month we'll have one more thing for my stepmom and grandmom to give them strength in their battles with cancer.

Just in case it isn't, I'm making phone calls to my insurance company about our coverage, a call to Ben's PCP about ordering a SA, and an informational call to a fertility clinic. I'm trying to be prepared...Just in case.

But as I know all too well, and what I give praise for and shout for glory about...Miracles do happen. So, please God, let this be our month.

And for all the bumpies/GPers who are reading this...Please God, you know what is lying heavily on their hearts, what weighs down their spirits, what they are crying out to you for...Lord, please help them in their time of need. And Lord? Thank you.

Our Story (and it's a long one!)

I'm Joy, a 29 year old LPN, and my husband Ben is a 30 year old computer tech for a school system. We were married in Nov. 2006, and we've been actively trying to conceive since Dec. 2008. There's a lot more to our story than those few sentences, so I'll start at the beginning with how we met.

Our story starts in the fall of 2002 when a good friend of mine, Amy, and Ben's sister, Chrissy, met while they were both studying abroad in England. They became friends over the semester, no doubt with much alcohol involved, and decided one night that Ben and I should meet because we'd be perfect for each other. Little did they know, they were right!

So, after traveling to visit Chrissy in the summer of '03, and meeting Ben herself, Amy nagged me for about 6 months (so did her mom) before I finally gave in and emailed Ben on Jan 9 2004. Ben emailed me back 2 days later, and we graduated to emailing every day, and then IMing for hours. We had so much to talk about, and so much in common. It was hard to believe that we were about 600 miles apart, and yet felt so close.

Our first phone call was on Valentine's Day that year, and we talked so long that his cell phone battery died! From that day on, I had this feeling in the bottom of my stomach that this guy, whom I'd never seen, was the one I'd been waiting my whole life for.

We met in person for the first time in May '04, with his parents, sister, and my friend watching us. Awkward! But we had a great time that weekend, and I was so sad when I left to drive home. After that, we traded visits back and forth, and by Christmas, we had decided I would move myself and my cat to live with him. It was a hard decision to make, but I knew deep down it was the right one, and I have never regretted it.

So, we moved in together April '05, and I started LPN school shortly after that. We were engaged in Jan. '06, and married in Nov. after I graduated and took my LPN boards. We then started looking for a house, and moved into our lovely 1924 colonial in April '07. Things went smoothly for several months, and we had finally started to agree on having a baby sooner rather than later when our world was turned upside down.

On Feb. 9th, 2008, we found out the hard way that Ben had a brain aneurysm. And by the hard way, I mean that he collapsed in our bedroom, as in his eyes rolled back and he fell over backwards like a felled tree. Ben had a short seizure, and then lay very still, not breathing and turning a very plum shade of purple. Needless to say, I was scared out of my mind, literally. My thoughts were racing around in my head like a trapped mouse, and all I could scream was "Oh please God" and "Don't you dare Benjamin Wayne, Don't you dare" (my husband's name).

But something (or someone if you believe like I do) took over and I started CPR and then called 911. When the EMTs got there (thankfully in a short time) he wasn't breathing and his heart wasn't beating, but they brought him back before loading him on the ambulance. And I had to make the worst call ever, I had to tell his parents what had happened and to meet me at the hospital.

So off we went, Ben in the back and me in another ambulance in my pjs, winter coat, and boots. (Looking back, it's a pretty funny mental picture) I know I was in shock, and it was pretty hard waiting in the waiting room for Ben's parents. The second thing we did when the ILs got to the ER was to pray. My MIL led us, and I learned that night what a Rock of Strength she is.

Thank you God for my MIL's strenth and for my FIL's cool head.

I remember quite a bit from that night, but what most sticks in my head was singing to my husband while he was in a coma in the ER (the 2nd ER, he was transferred to a big city hospital shortly after arriving at the 1st ER). I sang him two songs over and over, Amazing Grace and Grow Old Along with Me, which was our wedding song. Ben had all the odds against him, but he was, and is, a miracle. He made it through the night, and the next day the doctors started on their plans for surgery.

He was on a ventilator for a little over a week, had a tracheostomy and gastrotomy (Percutaneous EndoGastric Tube or PEG)done to help him breathe and eat. After about 2 weeks he started to wake up, and one of the first voluntary movements he made was to pucker his lips up to give me a kiss. I was so happy I thought my heart was going to burst.

Ben continued to improve, and was moved to a brain rehab center on March 6th, less than a month after his incident. That was on a Thursday, and they had him standing the following Monday. Ben took his first post-aneurysm steps that Wednesday, and from that point on, there was no stopping his recovery.

The rehab center he was at encouraged me and his parents to become part of his recovery, and in fact they allowed me to share a room with Ben. They gave us a private room with a private bathroom/shower, and I was there 24/7 for my husband. Ben's parents were there every day for his therapies (Physical, Occupational, and Speech for a total of 3 hrs/day), and to keep us company on the weekends.

I won't lie to you, there were days when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out. But God kept me strong and blessed us with the miracle of Ben's recovery. If it wasn't for my ILs, I don't know what I would have done. They kept me together, and gave me time to get away from the situation without worrying about Ben while I was gone.

Ben came home Apr. 11, 2008, just over 2 months after his injury, and promptly went into outpatient therapy. He progressed wonderfully, and was back driving and to work by mid-June (part time). He's continued to get better from there, and aside from a hiccup with his gallbladder and some minor memory and tremor problems Ben has returned to normal.

Have I mentioned my husband is a miracle?

So, fast forward to the present. I have a new job that I love (working in a primary care office), Ben is back to work full time, and he passed the critical 1 year post-aneurysm mark with (almost) flying colors. We are so happy, even with the day to day things that are tedious and annoying, because we appreciate life more than ever before. Now we are hoping and praying for just one more blessing- a little one to call our own.

If you made it through that huge chunk of wordage without falling asleep, I thank you! And I hope you found our story at least a little bit interesting. Our story is truly a witness to the power of prayer, and proof that miracles happen. Thank you again for reading it, and God Bless You!