Fetch

While on this roller coaster of a thing called my life, I am always in search of things that remain constant. Things that I can look to as a reminder that life, while completely and utterly perplexing and chaotic at times, will be OK. Things that make me reflect, smile, appreciate.

Yesterday, while playing with my dog during the lunch hour, I found myself smiling, laughing, loving life. Such a simple thing...playing with my dog. She is a constant joy. She's the one who cannot contain her excitement when she sees my eyes open in the morning. She's the one who, by some miracle, makes me laugh at 6:00am as we set out for our morning jog. And although my body wants to be back in bed, I count myself blessed to be the witness of such glee and exuberance...at such an ungodly hour.

I also realized something important while playing with Taylor yesterday. An analogy. Or perhaps an epiphany of sorts. In watching her run full-tilt after a tennis ball, pouncing on it with everything she has, and ecstatically running back to obediently drop it at my feet (over and over and over again), I realized how this can serve as a parallel to what my relationship with God should be like. Repeatedly in life, God throws me something...a lemon, a curve ball, you name it. Do I joyfully run after it? Do I tackle it? And most importantly, do I bring it back to God and lay it at His feet? Sometimes. But not all the time. Too often I'm like one of those dogs who frustrates their owner by making a half-ass effort toward the ball. I stop when I get there, hover over it, glance back at the owner just to see if he's paying attention. Then I grab the ball, run the other way, and decide to lay in the shade and do as I please. Sometimes I gnaw on the ball. Sometimes I try to bury it. If the owner tries to come near or persuade me to come back, I often hop to my feet and start a game of keep-away. I want the control. I think I know how the game should be played. But that's not what the owner intended when he threw the ball, is it? No, no.

With every lemon and every curve ball, God intends to teach me, shape me. He intends to exercise my muscles of faith. He desires for me to trust Him enough that I'll actually come back, lay my slobbery mess at His feet, and allow Him to throw another. And another. And He hopes that I will even find joy in it. Joy through the lessons, through the overcoming, through the people I pass on may way to and from.

Praise God for simple and constant truths. Praise Him for His constant truth...and constant pursuit of me.

And now for a visual representation of my epiphany. I hope these photos make you smile...




"...This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength."
-Nehemiah 8:10

Oui, s'il vous plaît

I would like to take this moment to thank God for the French. Specifically for their mad pastry skills. Pastries, especially those made with fruit, are my weakness. They are more enticing than chocolate. More tempting than shoes. And cheaper, too!

The heavenly berry tart you see in this photo was my lunch today. My entire lunch. While standing in line at a French cafe yesterday, waiting for a loaf of bread and a cup of soup, a fresh platter full of these berry tarts came out of the kitchen and into my life. Sadly, I couldn't justify buying one at the time. And by the grace of God I was able to walk away. Only to have this life-changing, tart-justifying idea...

Every time Aunt Flo comes to town (ladies, you know what I mean), I will drive straight to my little French cafe and order a berry tart. I am so excited about my genius plan that I am actually looking forward to her next visit.

It's the little things in life...

Celebrating Moms

Today, I think fondly of my mom. My mommy, my madre, my mamacita...or just my ma. She goes by many names. I love her for who she is and for all that she's done in my life and continues to do. She's my friend and cheerleader. She gives the best hugs. She gets more beautiful with age. She's had her share of heartaches in life, but that's made her stronger, wiser, more compassionate. I admire her immensely. It's an honor to be her daughter. I am so grateful...I love you, ma!

While my heart brims with thankfulness today for the amazing women in my life, it must also endure a few twinges of pain. When I wasn't pregnant last Mother's Day, I thought to myself...no biggie, surely by next Mother's Day I will be celebrating. I'll be part of the club. I'll be one of the many gals being applauded at church. And here I sit. Wondering if I should even attend a church service today. While I'm grateful for a pastoral team who is sensitive to those of us suffering through infertility on Mother's Day, I just don't know if I can sit in a room full of beaming mothers and growing bellies. Sometimes you just have to sit one out for the sake of your sanity. Today might be one of those times.

It's often difficult to articulate the feelings that come with Mother's Day. On the one hand you celebrate, on the other you grieve. So here is a blog post from a fellow woman who understands the grieving part. Thank you dear Katie, for sending this along to me: For Those With Empty Arms on Mother's Day

And for all you mom's out there, squeeze your little ones extra tight today. Say an extra 'thank you' for the miraculous blessing of their lives.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
-Psalm 34:18

Just Say 'No'

Well, it appears as though Joel and I are going to camp out at the intersection of our crossroads for a while. Several things happened over the last week that ultimately led to an emotional meltdown this morning (yep, another one). It's officially time to say 'no' to something. Time to clear the plate and focus on one thing at a time. Being only three weeks away from moving into our new abode and beginning our remodeling project, we are choosing to focus on the house. We are both tired, frazzled and cross-eyed. One minute we're discussing hard wood floors and kitchen cabinetry, the next minute we're trying to decide which of the 15 different paths we should take to figure out what the heck is wrong with me (reproductively speaking...although many would argue differently). Then the next minute we're sifting through adoption agencies and filling out pre-application forms. Mentally, emotionally, and financially it's just time to step back. Take a deep breath. Focus on the house. ENJOY the house. Enjoy each other's company.

In choosing the house, Joel and I have chosen to take a couple months off from all things baby. Alas, I am packing up the thermometer and ovulation predictor strips. As for the pregnancy tests, if I hadn't paid good money for them I'd just as soon throw them away...or maybe burn them. Yes, burning them would be glorious. Die HPT's! Die!! But no, those will be packed up, too. Maybe someday they will decide to play nice. Until then...onward we go. Finally on the same page. Finally pointed in the same direction. Finally with the time and space to think. To process. To pray. And to once again lean fully on a mysterious, yet mighty God.

Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.
-Psalm 126:5

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.
-Proverbs 3:5-6

Crossroads

I just googled the word "crossroads" hoping to find a cool picture for this post. What I found was blog after blog of folks chronicling their thoughts as they stood on the precipice of life's next chapter. The overwhelming majority were Christians. Hmm. One post in particular was profoundly encouraging, written by a blogger named Ben Liles. He begins his post like this...

Crossroads. We all have them. Some if not all of us do not like them. They scare us because we think one choice is right and one is wrong. I embrace them. When I come to a crossroad, I know that it is because God has brought me to this point because He has something for me. It is a place in life where we are forced to think, not about the moment or about the past, but about the future. It is a place of life-change.

Today, I feel like I am at a crossroad. I met with a Reproductive Endocrinologist (ain't that a mouthful?!) this afternoon, who officially gave us the branding of "unexplained infertility." I can't say I didn't see it coming. Every test we've had up to this point has come back normal. Every cycle I've ever had since the age of 14 has been more or less normal. So we're just a normal couple who apparently can't conceive a child the normal, old-fashioned way. Which brings me to my next point...

Like every other doctor I've seen, the Endocrinologist also suggested I begin with a regimen of Clomid or Letrozole. For those of you unfamiliar with these drugs, they are designed to help women produce viable eggs for ovulation. For women who have irregular cycles, or who have trouble ovulating at all, I am a huge proponent of these drugs. However, I take issue with these doctors trying to sell me on this idea when we all know that I am ovulating just fine. For me, these drugs would only put my ovaries into over-drive...it's like they'd be on steroids. I like my ovaries. And that just seems like a mean thing to do, when they're already doing their job. Plus, I'm a worrier by nature, and I don't trust easily. I don't trust doctor's motives and I don't trust the drugs they're trying to push on me. I worry about cancer...breast cancer, ovarian cancer. I worry about any ill effects these drugs may have on a child.

So here's my crossroad: Previous discussions between Joel and myself had led us to conclude that we would not force nature. In other words, no drugs...no artificial insemination...and no IVF. With so many precious kids in the world needing a good home, we'd just as soon spend our money and energy on adoption. But today I find myself conflicted. The reason? Statistics. During my chat with the doc, he broke out the digits (which I can appreciate, being a geeky science gal). For us (because every couple's scenario is different), our chances of conceiving without any intervention is 2-4% every month. Ouch. If I tried Clomid or Letrozole, this jumps up to 15%. With artificial insemination, 20%. And with IVF, 50%. We still feel very committed to our decision of not pursuing IVF. But what about the other options? There's something very sobering about 2-4%. The thought of it ruined my afternoon. And it forced Joel and I to call our previous decisions into question.

If we stick with our original plan and only pursue adoption, will we someday regret never pursuing pregnancy further? Will we always deflate at the thought of never having a biological child? Am I being too stubborn and paranoid? And on the flip side, should we even have a child at all?! We could be like my Aunt and Uncle who blissfully travel the world and exclaim, "Oops!! We forgot to have kids!" whenever anyone in the family complains about a grievous child. That path seems pretty nice when I'm at the grocery store next to a screaming little girl who's not getting her way. [NOTE: Mom and Dad, I do see the irony in this...I'm sure I was that little girl many times!]

I realize that this decision is ultimately between God, Joel and myself. I also realize, like Ben, that there may not be one right path. And I wholeheartedly believe that no matter what path we choose, the Lord will provide ways for us to glorify Him through it. That said, I would love to hear words of wisdom from anyone reading this. Seeking wise counsel is always, well...wise.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.
-Psalm 119:105

To Grandma's House We Go...

A week ago Tuesday, I wrote a blog post in which I told you about how much I liked the distraction of looking for a new home. Little did I know that that distraction would soon end and give way to a brand new one 24 hours later. Earlier that day, Joel and I had looked at a home in a great neighborhood. It was built with quality as a Parade Home 25 years ago...and hadn't been updated since. I kid you not, this place was decked out to the hilt in grandma's pink carpet and floral wall paper from the 80's. It had a plethora of fun little oddities, as well...like the washer and dryer in the kitchen, floor to ceiling mirrors, and a FULL kitchen in the basement...just to name a few. Joel was smitten with the place. He had this crazy look in his eye. I was NOT amused, as I was sure I knew where this was going. And I was right. Twenty-four hours and several renovation promises later, we had a house.

When I think about how it all came to be, I just laugh and shake my head a little. It is exactly the way God works in my life. He always takes something that I either (a) am afraid of, (b) swore I would never do, or (c) had completely written off from the start, and uses it to challenge my plans, ideas and misconceptions. Africa scared me. Infectious diseases scared me. So He sent me to Kenya to hold the hands of women and children infected with HIV/AIDS. Three times I've been there now. And I know I'll continue to go back. In grad school I swore I would never take a job in atmospheric computer modeling, believing I just didn't have the brains or patience for it. He sent me someone who believed I did. Almost a year and a half later, I surprise myself everyday with how much I love my job. So it makes sense that I am now knee-deep in color swatches and flooring samples, dreaming of how to make a home that I initially hated into something great...on a tight budget. I'm thrilled, I'm scared, I'm hoping to win the lottery. This house is nothing like what I thought we'd end up with. It has very few things that we actually set out looking for. But it's fabulous...and funky. It's potential is vast. And for some reason it just feels a little serendipitous, like it did when we bought our first house. Perhaps it's just because the four digits making up the street number of the new house are the same as our current house, just in a different order. Simply a coincidence? Probably. But I'm choosing to see it as an added assurance from above that this is the place we're to rest our heads and, Lord-willing, raise our family for years to come.

This is yet another page in the story of Joel and Holly. Another reminder that things rarely turn out the way you think they will. Another lessen in being open to what can happen when they don't. It's my prayer that this house will become a home, a place of refuge, warmth and love. Not only for Joel and myself, but for all who enter. And may we always be mindful of the One who has blessed us with it, so as never to take it for granted or cease to use it in ways that glorify His awesomeness. That's a very theological way of saying..."Please come visit! We will take good care of you!"

By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures.
-Proverbs 24:3-4

Welcome Distractions

Spring has officially sprung. While I do love snow and festive winter holidays, I am glad the grey haze of winter has left us, leaving sunshine and the occasional thunderstorm in its place. The peonies and rhubarb plants are starting to break ground in our back yard now, and I have a vase full of daffodils on my kitchen table. The windows are open. The furnace is off. After a winter of being poked and prodded by doctors, and feeling sorry for myself as I watched my girlfriends' bellies grow, my life is starting to feel refreshed, renewed. I feel like a bear finally emerging from its den. I'm shaking off the hurts and failures like a bear would shake off dirt and twigs from its fur. I'm stretching my legs. I'm running again.

It also helps that we've had a plethora of distractions this spring to take our minds off the baby business. As you know from a couple posts ago, we sold our house and will be closing on May 28th. We've been searching for a new home ever since. I actually enjoy the search. I enjoy walking into a home and dreaming with Joel on ways we could improve it and make it ours. Some are total doozies...like a house full of cats...and others we have loved and lost in what we're realizing is a very competitive market. But we're still finding joy in the process. And now that Easter is over, we are picking up momentum in our adoption journey. On Thursday, we'll be traveling to Milwaukee for an informational meeting. I have so many questions for the adoption agency...I'm afraid I might become "that girl" to everyone else in the meeting. But what can I say? I'm just really eager to learn! Plus, we're both looking forward to moving on, and not being chewed up and spit out by my monthly cycle anymore.

Another hilariously cute distraction is the 2010 Doggy Daze contest. Our dog, Taylor, was one of 25 dogs to get their own photo shoot as part of this annual fundraiser for the Dane County Humane Society. Her photo made it to the top twelve (the Doggy Dozen) and now she is a finalist in the top 8. The winner will be on the cover of the 2011 Doggy Daze calendar. Totally silly...completely indulgent...incredibly amusing. We're proud parents. [And here comes the shameless plug...] If you'd like to vote for her, just follow this link! 2010 Doggy Daze Voting. She may not be your personal favorite, but she does have the best life story (in our humble opinion), and would make an excellent representative of what Humane Societies around the nation are all about.

Well, that's all from me...for now! I hope you are all enjoying the warmth of spring temperatures and all the pizazz severe weather season brings. I like that word, "pizazz"...I need to use it more often.

"I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs."
-Isaiah 41:18