I love Christmas.  I do.  But, boy am I ever glad it is all over.  About 10 years ago I had a job working with juvenile delinquents at a treatment center and got stuck working midnights for a while.  Today, I have felt just like I did when I worked a midnight shift, slept for a few hours then got up and tried to have a normal afternoon.  I'm tired and not all "here".  But all in all it was a weekend with family, fun, laughter and, of course, gifts.

As a farewell to Christmas for another 364 days, here is a short video of Gavin coming downstairs and seeing his "big" gift.  I love the genuine excitement and wonder in his eyes!


Now... Lets get back to baby making!  Last cycle was a bust.  I went to the RE on Christmas Eve to get a baseline scan.  As I sat on the paper lined table I thought to myself, "Is it weird that I am Facebook friends with the doctor that is about to come in a take a little peek at my ovaries?"  Since I was alone and had to answer my own question, I decided that, "Yes.  It is a little weird."  But then I decided that if anyone was going to be poking around my nether regions, it may as well be someone I was in a high school dance class with.  Then I glanced around the room and looked at the classy framed art (I had to go to the main office which is much bigger and much nicer) and sort of missed the posters with the cartoon drawing of a uterus.  I think I can identify and draw a diagram of a uterus and the life cycle of an egg after my numerous visits to the OB and RE in the last 5 years.  Oh... I also know a thing about menopause and osteoporosis.   Those posters are so informative!  But I digress.  On Christmas Eve there was just art.  Art and one calendar affixed to a cupboard door.  I really wish that I had taken a photo of that calendar so that you could better appreciate what I am about to share.  On the calendar was an outline of a abstract woman's figure holding a baby.  Nothing is wrong with that except in the room that is dimly lit, I didn't notice that it was a drawing of a woman.  All I saw was the profile of a man's body and what really was the woman's leg looked nothing like a leg... if you know what I mean.

So after I saw the doctor and she declared me as cyst free, we wished each other Merry Christmas and that should have been the end.  But no.  Not I.  I can't see an optical illusion of a womans leg, see a penis, and keep this all to myself, right?  I mean after all we are facebook friends.  I guess if anyone I know is going to think I am constantly thinking about sex and such things, it should be the person (other than my husband) who is helping me to get pregnant.

I started the Clomid again this cycle and am really hoping that this can be the last one.  Gavin ripped the button off of my thermometer and while it still works I would love to let it retire.  My hip propping pillow is starting to get flat and I would really like to only pee in a cup at my doctors office where I can write my name on the cup and let someone else play with it.  I want so much to be able to sit back and enjoy 2012 and welcome a new little person into our lives.  But I know that what I want and what I need are two different things.  God will give me everything I need this year.

One year for Christmas, all I wanted was a Cabbage Patch Kid. They had come out with a new version that had corn silk hair instead of the string yarn hair that was useless when it came to brushing or styling. After all, isn't that what most girls want to do with a doll. Comb its hair? I went to the local mall with my parents and climbed into the big burly man's lap and looked him in the eye.

"I want a corn silk Cabbage Patch Kid, " I said, making sure that his eyes told me he was familiar with the doll. I left the mall feeling pretty confident that Santa was going to make good on his end of the bargain.

When Christmas morning finally arrived I ran down the stairs eying all of the wrapped packages on the floor. I knew the shape of the doll box quite well and wasn't able to scout it out. I had that nervous excitement pouring over every inch of me as I eagerly anticipated finding the box amidst the heaps of gifts. Even though I couldn't see it right away, I knew it was there. It was under something or behind something. Or, maybe Santa hid it somewhere special as a big surprise at the end.

I opened all of my gifts and while they were nice, they weren't nice enough to make me forget about my Cabbage Patch kid with the corn silk hair. After the last gift had been handed to my brother and we watched him open it, I waited.

I waited to hear my parents say, "Oops! We almost forgot! Santa left a special gift in the (insert whatever plausible room here) for you Maria!" But as the wrapping paper was all balled up and thrown away and my brother was busy playing with his toys, I realized, there was no doll. Santa knew that was what I wanted. I made it very clear to him. Why would he do this to me? And then it all came into focus. He couldn't really exist because if he did, he would never disappoint me like this. It was then obvious. Santa was a big fat hoax.

It is no wonder there are so many people who say that they don't believe in God. For whatever reason, adults find it necessary to tell children about how God is good and does good things to those who believe in Him. If you ask God for something and pray about it, God will give you what you ask for. Maybe adults still believe this because that is what they were told by their parents. But this is like telling the fairy tale version of the Bible and skipping the part with the villain because it might be too scary for young ears. Then when those children grow up and ask God for something and they don't get it, well, the only rational conclusion is that he isn't real.

I took this from a comment on a friends blog:

But for some to preach that there is an all-knowing, all-powerful merciful entity that pulls the strings of every single thing that happens to every human being, every moment of every day, is ludicrous. Perhaps creation was the brain child of some superior being, but I cannot believe that an all-knowing, entity does not know that 250,000 men, women & children will be killed by a tsunami that could have been stopped with the wave of an all-powerful, merciful hand. And, to award the saving of a single life to the entity that could have prevented the entire disaster is ridiculous.

By this thought process, one would then assume that in our world there would be no sickness, death, crime, pain, suffering, loss, etc. Just because God can do something doesn't mean that he will. Everything does happen for a reason and the Bible talks about what happens to us if we sin. We, every last one of us, are sinners. We knowingly sin against God and the price we pay is a tsunami that kills 250,000 men, women, and children. The Bible doesn't hide the reality of this. For some reason, we like to hide behind the cloak of God being Santa Claus and then when we are hurting and God doesn't take all of our pains away we feel like we have been duped just like when we realized that Santa isn't real.

I think we, as adults, parents, grandparents, and friends need to share the truth about God. The good, the bad, and the sometime hard to stomach truth about God. We can and should pray to God for His will. His will should be what we desire. We can ask for patience, understanding, and peace for when we don't understand His plan for us. I don't want my children to grow up feeling like God owes them something. God created us. He gave us life. We will always be indebted to Him.