I had another round of tests done before my doctor went on vacation and before Frank and I went to Vegas. Friday my doctor called with the results and they were bad. I have to get a second opinion on it, but it’s not looking good. It would take a miracle for me to be pregnant this month. Please pray for one.

I held it together at work pretty well. I was in shock for the first hour after. I managed to call Frank and tell him. And then I sat at my desk, fighting back tears and trying to keep a wavering smile on my face. On the way home I screamed and cried and used some unattractive swear words. When I came home, I curled up next to Frank and he said, “Ok, we are going to be upset about this for one hour. Then we are going to do things we can control, like clean out the basement.” So for one hour we were sad and then after that, we turned on some music and threw out the junk in our basement and added to our garage sale pile.

So yeah, we’re looking for a miracle – and I don’t mean a ticket to a Grateful Dead concert.

I am asking God for more peace. I am so beyond angry about this. And really, I don’t feel that I should be angry about this. It’s like going to Vegas and losing while other people win. And then going outside of the casino and realizing most of the world can’t afford the dollar to play because they are starving and thirsty and cold.

We are so blessed in so many ways. We have each other, for one. He is absolutely my soul mate and I wouldn’t trade him for anything. We have families that we love and that taught us a lot about life and loving. We have amazing friends. We both have awesome jobs. Jobs that are interesting and exciting and enriching. We have a home that we really enjoy and love. Our cup runs over.

So I am angry, but then I think about all of these awesome blessings that we God has provided while so many others around the world need clean water and a three meals per day.

But, oh, does my heart ache.