I used to do my best thinking in the car. Then Gavin turned 3. It is rare that I can make a trip anywhere without a barrage of questions. On our grocery trip this afternoon I answered questions like, "What type of fuel does a cement mixer use- gasoline or diesel?" And, "How do you get to the top of of that tower (a cell phone tower)?" And my personal favorite was, "How does God make people?" So, you can see how being alone with my thoughts is a rare occasion. But, tonight, somewhere between Sam's Club and home, I was graced by a break in the questions just long enough to have an epiphany.

I often hear people say that God wants us to be happy. He doesn't want to see us hurting. He wouldn't break our hearts. People want to blame all that is contrary to what we dream of and hope for on Satan or anyone but God. This is what I think:

God's priority isn't our happiness. His priority is that we have faith, do His will, His work, and share His word. I think that if we do these things we will find and experience happiness but it isn't like God says, "Let me see what I can do to make Maria happy today." It is the opposite. I need to do a better job of waking up every morning and spending time thinking about how I am going to make Him happy.

As I am anticipating my appointment on Friday, I am really spending a lot of time thinking about happiness and what Gods wants for me. Right now, my thinking that sounds a lot like, "I want God's will but, man, am I ever hoping that God's will is for me to get what I want." I am human. I am struggling a lot with this.

At me appointment, I will hopefully learn what my likely options will be and that is when the real discussions will take place. I know that talk about assisted reproduction can get heated, intense, and feeling sometimes get hurt. I really hope that all of you who are on this journey with me, can respect each other and me when I talk through some of my personal thoughts on these topics. I don't know what direction, if any, I will go, but I hope that we can at least have a civil discussion if it comes up. I am sure that no one participates in fertility treatments without giving it a lot of thought, so I will never judge anyone for the decisions they make. I ask the same in return.

Since this was such a "deep" post, I'll end with a smile. I found this drawing on Gavin's desk the other night after I tucked him into bed. Despite the fact I have such little hair and a HUGE nose and look more like a Muppet, I love it!

I have probably touched on this before but I happen to think that have inherited the longevity gene. I have lived 34 years of life, almost 35, and have only been to 2 funerals. Each was for a grandparent. I have never had to deal with an instance of a young, healthy, surprise passing of a friend or relative. I haven't even had a relative pass away of an illness. I do have an aunt with advanced cancer who is in her late 50s but she has been doing chemo treatments and seems to be doing quite well. So, with all of this being my experience it is so hard for me to fathom the fact that today, for any number of reasons, might be my last day on Earth.

On Saturday evening, Doug and I were getting ready for our date night. We were getting the boys packed up to go to "Nana" and "Papo's" house for the evening. As I was doing a last minute diaper change, I started feeling a stabbing pain in the top left side of my head. It wasn't so painful that I did much more than put my hand to my head and wonder, "What in the world is this?" I don't get headaches unless I have skipped my morning coffee so a strange pain, unlike any other headache I have ever had, made me think.

Everyone has at least heard a tragic story of a healthy person just dying. I am not a hypochondriac. Aside from my recurrent miscarriages, I am probably one of the healthiest people I know. No allergies, no broken bones, no diseases, you get the point. But a moment or two after the first onset of the sharp pain in my head I thought to myself, "What if this is it? Maybe I am going to fall over dead from a brain aneurysm." I wasn't kidding either. I had a moment where I thought that I could possibly be experiencing my last moments of life.

I really was amazed, and rather impressed if I do say so myself, that my first thoughts weren't of sadness. I thought of God. I thought to myself that while I am far from being free of sin, I have faith that death is the start of something very beautiful. A journey to eternity. I thought that if it was God's will for that day to be my last then, since there was nothing I would be able to do about it, I should be excited about the next chapter.

A few minutes later the stabbing pain subsided and I continued packing the kids up and deciding what I would order for dinner at the new restaurant we were going to. I didn't mention my little "episode" to Doug that night. It was almost like it was a personal moment between God and I and I wasn't eager to share it. Then Easter morning we were off on another adventure.

I was getting ready for church and Doug was entertaining the boys. Doug put Joey down and told me that he was in pain. He went upstairs and I could hear him moaning and groaning in obvious pain. I know that Doug will argue with me about this when her reads this post but... Doug (and all guys, I think) can be a bit dramatic when they aren't feeling well. It is like they have a pass on being manly and can turn into big 'ol babies when they don't feel well. So, I didn't race up there right away. Then I heard heaving and moaning and groaning. Then, I thought that I should probably see what the problem was. He was clutching his stomach and chest and said he was in terrible pain. He was sweaty and there were tears in his eyes. I asked him if he thought we should go to the Emergency Room. This is when I thought, if he is just being dramatic, he'll pass on the ER and opt for some wifely attention. When, without hesitation, he said 'yes' to the ER I knew that he was really really in pain.

My parents came to pick up the boys. This is one of those times where it is great to have parents living on the same property. Withing 5 minutes the boys were picked up and we were in the truck and on the way to the ER. But, before my parents were able to leave with the boys, Doug insisted on kissing them goodbye. Without him explaining anything to me, I knew that he was concerned for his health and thought that maybe these were his last moments. Doug's story ended just as uneventfully as mine did. The only difference is that his is going to get billed to us in a few weeks as very expensive gas pain.

I don't mean this to be a depressing "we are going to die" post but I do think it is important to live each day as if it is our last. I think a lot of young healthy people think that they have plenty of time to fix things between them and God. They will get to church when the kids are older and won't interrupt service. They will read the Bible when they have more time. They will think of eternity when they are laying on their death bed and ask God for forgiveness for all of their sins. We could leave this world in a flash. With no warning. Maybe today is a good day to think about God and where we stand with Him.

I know that when going through a hard time, whether it be miscarriage, loss of a child, or really, any heartbreak at all, it is easy to feel alone. This seems to be the time that I most often hear people feel like they have been abandoned by God. They feel like God is punishing them. They wonder if God exists and if He does, He certainly isn't hearing their prayers. My heart truly breaks for these lost souls. It is so hard to count ones blessings when going through a loss. I know how cliche it sounds to say, "It could be worse." But the truth is, even though you might not think it could possibly be any worse, it always can.

Someone on Facebook posted a status that really made me think. It read, "What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things you thanked God for today?" It was a great reminder of all of the little things that we take for granted. I am thankful for the ability to feed my family. I am thankful for a warm house. I am thankful for all of the wonderful family members I have who would help me though anything. I am so thankful for my husband and, of course, for my wonderful children. So, now, when I think of what I really wish I had, I take that time to thank Him for all that I do have because... it really could be worse.

To those who feel like God isn't hearing them or feels that He isn't answering their prayers, I challenge them to try something different. Instead of making a request list to God, open your hearts and let God make a request list of you. I know that many of us want to think that God exists to make us happy, but the truth is we are on Earth to serve Him. We have been created by Him to do His will and somewhere along the way we have tried to switch positions on this. So, today, even though we have a list a mile and a half long that we wish God would hurry up and make happen, lets put our lists away and make a new list. Lets see what we can do for Him. Those who do His will and serve Him will be blessed.

One of the most frequent things I get asked or see women asking about on various message boards "I am not sure I could go through this again. How do I try again after a loss." I am sure that every woman who has had a loss would have a different answer since everyone deals with things differently. But, I can share how I managed to fall down 6 times and get back up 6 times.

• I had to choose what would be more painful, another loss or never having another baby.
  

That was a tough one for me. After the first few losses, I flirted with the idea of adoption but ultimately knew in my heart that I was willing to try almost anything to feel a baby kick in my tummy again. I knew how painful loss was but I knew that the joy of a child would far outweigh my hurt.

• I made a plan.

I had to have a plan for each cycle. Since I managed to fall pregnant so frequently (never longer than 4 months) I would try various supplements, fertility aids, vitamins, etc. It made me feel like I was at least trying to do something different. I thought that if I used different "tricks" then I would get different results. I also liked to know what my doctor was prepared to do as soon as I had my positive pregnancy test in hand. It helped me to feel more empowered to know, proactively, what the plan would be.

• I prayed.

I learned that asking God to let me stay pregnant wasn't working. Begging for a pregnancy test line to be darker or asking for my beta hcg numbers to be doubling weren't the right requests. I learned that I had to pray for God's will. I prayed that if it was God's will for me to stay pregnant that is what I very much desired. If it wasn't in His will, I prayed that God would hold me close and guide me through loss. I prayed for understanding and peace with whatever He had planned for me.

• I counted my blessings.

I knew that I had so much to be thankful for. The fact that I had my son, Gavin, was such a blessing to me. My losses helped me to appreciate what a miracle he really is. I really learned how lucky I was to have such a supportive husband who, while he grieved differently, always let me grieve in whatever way I needed to. I knew that if I was going to miscarry again that God had blessed me with a wonderful man who would love me through it all.

• I let God decide.

Quit or keep trying? God knows what we should do. If I ever really found myself wondering if I was strong enough to go through another loss, I asked Him. Thankfully God made me strong enough to go through 6 losses. Now, I find myself wondering if I am strong enough to handle any more losses. I hope I don't have to find out.

Before I became a mother,I worked in the mental health field. It was nearly everyday that it was noted in someone's file that they were schizophrenic. They heard voices. IF this was the only criteria for schizophrenia then I would have to say that I am, indeed, schizophrenic. Every morning, the voice in my head coaxes me to get motivated to climb out from under the warm blankets on my bed. The voice in my head then helps me choose what to wear. Then the voice helps me decide between a pop tart or a bowl of cereal for breakfast. The voice in my head helps me decide what is appropriate to say in a conversation. It helps me decide how to respond to my son's inappropriate behavior. It helps me in everything I do. Everyday.

When asking someone who may or may not be mentally ill if they hear voices is really unfair. I think we all hear voices. It is just a matter of if we identify that voice as being our own. I used to always think that that voice was me. But after giving it more thought, I think that voice in my head is God helping me with my day. God is present in everything that we do and he is always willing to communicate with us, if we are willing to listen. And, if I am ever not sure about what I should do, if I ask Him, He will answer.

I have decided to really focus on listening to that voice in my head. God is trying to tell me what I need to know all the time. I need to listen. I also need to beware that the Satan isn't able to permeate my head and convince me to do evil.

This must be what people mean when they say that God spoke to them. They must really be listening, ready to really hear and really do God's will. I need to better job of being schizophrenic and letting God direct me.



Just for fun. This is Gavin a few years ago.

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.