whoa

Ok, welcome to crazy town.  Population FK & EK.

Prayers were answered – we have a mature follicle! 

However, the cluster that has ensued in order to get this little follicle ruptured and, you know, “taken care of” has been a little nerve wrecking.

Our original plan was for me to take the shot that causes the ovary to eject the egg today at 4 p.m. and then go in for the IUI tomorrow at noon.

That was until FK’s company extended his stay in FL.  At the moment, he is trying to get back, but since we aren’t 100% certain of his travel situation, we have had to juggle things a little bit…

So now, we are hoping that I don’t ovulate (which I shouldn’t ovulate on my own) and tomorrow I have a follow up ultrasound.  Then I will take the shot later that day and go in for the IUI Wednesday.

Thank you for being prayer warriors on our behalf.  It is making all the difference in the world.

And if you could keep praying, that would be excellent. 

PS.  Not having a good hair day today.  But hey, you win some and you lose some.

six years of marriage…

Panda 1

as depicted by pandas.  (an anniversary email from my husband)

***

We’re responsible adults

Panda 2Frank: So we skipped church last night, slept through the early service and now it’s noon.

Emily: Roll over.

***

Models of moderation

Panda 3Frank: Hey, it’s not a big deal, but there are 5 empty 2-liter bottles of Diet Coke in the recycling bin…

Emily: I don’t want to talk about it.

Frank: No, it’s ok, I just…

Emily: I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

***

We embrace every moment

Panda 4

Emily: Hey, whatcha doinnnnnn?

Frank: Playing Civilization.  Invading Germany. Go away.

***

We’re models of patience

Panda 5

Frank: No Emmmiiieeeeeee!  It’s 8 o’clock and she’s still not home from woooooooorrrkkkk!

***

We look out for eachother

Panda 6

Frank: Umm, no.  No grays at all. Maybe one or two, but that’s it.

***

We seize the day

Panda 7

Emily: Snooze.

Frank: Em, it’s 7:30.

Emily: Snooze!

Frank: Em, you’re going to be…

Emily: 10 more minutes!!

***

We’ve perfected laptop TV watching

Panda 8

Emily: I’m so glad you’re home.

Frank: Me too.

Emily: … maybe we shouldn’t keep the laptop on your boys.

***
And of course, there’s the grown up stuff…
Panda 9
Frank: Like this?
Emily: No, Frank.
Panda  10
Frank: Like this?
Emily: ::sigh:: No, Frank.

Panda 12

Frank: Like this?
Emily: There we go!

God is good

This morning, things were a bit shakey.  An armed robber was on the loose and hijacked a car a block away from my office.  Awesome.  We were on soft lockdown for most of the morning.

But in the end, the day turned out great.  My work got done.  The sun was shining.  I got into my car in time to hear the “Five O’Clock Whistle” on the radio station I listen to.

I hadn’t heard that sound in YEARS.  YEARS!

Oh, and the pesky armed robber crashed his car into a tree this afternoon and is going back to jail.

Today, the fields in the forest preserve are turning a lovely warm shade of gold.  There was not a single cloud in the sky as I drove home from work.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from work to pick up some delicious produce for a salad.  I drove back to our cozy home, where the sun was streaming through the leaves on the trees in the park behind our house and kids were playing soccer and all the world was as it should be.

And tomorrow is my 6 year wedding anniversary to an amazing man.  Does it get any better?  I think not.

Even though we’re going through a lot with the fertility biz, our cups run over with all of the blessings God has given us.

So hey, it’s a Chicago September Friday.  It’s beautiful and delicious and vibrant all at the same time.

God is good.

one week from today…

is our 6 year anniversary.

Six years ago one week seemed like an eternity.  The minutes and hours didn’t seem to go fast enough.  I could not wait!

Five years ago, we were moving up to Milwaukee.

Four years ago, we were in New York visiting the set of the Today Show.

Three years ago, we were in Colorado, traveling up to Pike’s Peak and enjoying a lovely dinner in Colorado Springs.

Two years ago, we were living in Milwaukee, enjoying our home and our life.  Frank had just finished his upgrade to Jet Captain.

One year ago, our life was in upheaval.  We were selling our home in Wisconsin, living with my parents, Frank had just been laid off (again), I was in the midst of planning season at an ad agency and in the midst of it all, we were trying to figure out what our new normal was going to be.

And today, here we are, settled in our home in Illinois.  Frank is back at an airline.  I am at a new job.  We have been blessed beyond anything we could have imagined, six years ago.  What a crazy adventure.  God has been so gracious with us.

I love you, FK.  More than you know.

TM,A.

question of the day.

I am posting this question and my response as a blog entry for two reasons 1) I’ve asked this question myself and 2) I am sure that anyone reading my blog has probably asked a very similar question.  I just happen to have one dear friend who was brave enough to just come out and ask it and I love that she did.

The Question: “I’d be interested to know how God can see that having children is best for a teenager, still a child, but not for the many good valued, hard working men and woman on this planet who suffer with infertility? I admit, I will be your worst critic, but I am curious how that can be explained?”

This is really several questions rolled into one and I don’t really have an answer.  I can address the question with my own experiences and what God has shown me through those experiences.  And I can address the question with the knowledge I have about God through the Bible.  But really, the only person who can provide a definitive answer on this question is God.  That being said…

The first question seems to be why does God seemingly reward bad behavior, ie. teenage pregnancy?

This is an especially difficult part of the question for me.  And the first thing I have to do is check my own heart.

When I was little and I got in trouble for something, I would often resort to, “Yeah, but she…”  Wrong. Answer.

It wasn’t about what my sister or brother or neighbor did – it was about me.  What I did. What I needed to learn.  It’s not my job to be God, it’s God’s job to be God.

Even still, in arguments with my husband I find myself saying, “Well, fine, but last week, you did xyz.” And surprisingly (sarcasm), the arguments only escalate needlessly. 

Still, dealing with a major issue, especially with our fertility issues, it has caused me to pause and wonder:  How does a loving and gracious God allow a teenager to get pregnant easily while other, more mature and stable couples struggle?

I know that we live in a fallen world where people make bad decisions.  Nowhere in the Bible did God say that we would live a life free of consequences on earth.  As a Christian who loves Jesus, I know that my sins are forgiven in heaven, but often I have to deal with the consequences on earth.  If I screw up, I have to own it and work through it.

People with children know that sometimes the best thing for your kids is to let them experience the consequences of their actions.  Life provides the most memorable and deeply rooted lessons.

Based on my own experiences and what I’ve learned about God, this is what I think with regards to the pregnant teenager: anyone who has sexual intercourse runs the risk of getting pregnant.  That is life.  Sex is a very adult experience that has serious adult consequences.  And outside of marriage, it can lead to unwanted/unplanned pregnancies and the spread of some pretty nasty diseases.  I don’t believe teenagers are being rewarded with babies for their indiscretions, they are simply living with the consequences of it.  How teenagers choose to handle their unplanned pregnancy will change their life and it will form a big piece of who they are.  That is a mighty big consequence for a 15 year old and not something that I would have wanted to deal with at that tender age.  But that’s what happens when participating in adult activities before you are ready to deal with the very adult consequences.

Second issue: so why do bad things happen to reasonably good people?

Alright, fine, maybe I can live with the answer to the first question.  Maybe I can focus on working on me.  Maybe I can live with the fact that sometimes people make bad decisions.

But what about people who try really, really hard to be good and don’t get what they want anyway?

For me, addressing this part of the question, continues to take a lot of soul searching.

Frank and I have a fantastic life together. We are mostly responsible (the occasional 18 month old tub of margarine not included).  We think we could be pretty capable parents (but totally reserve the right to play pranks on any future children).  We don’t smoke, we drink occasionally, and we’ve never even tried drugs.  I mean, it looks pretty good and stable on paper – so why are we having such a hard time having kids?  How is it that we haven’t earned biological children?

This, for me, comes down to my relationship with God and who He is and who I am.

I wish God was Santa Clause because then I could sit on His lap (does God have a lap?) and ask Him for a better metabolism.  And smaller feet.

But he is not Santa Claus – and thank goodness (more cookies for me!)!  I know that God is good, all of the time.  Even when I am not good, He is steadfastly good.  I know this from reading the Bible and I know this from my own life experiences. 

It’s just hard to believe sometimes, especially when I am not getting what I want or my heart is breaking, it is hard to believe that.  But then I see the evidence in my life of His goodness.  I went through a lot of heartache with several guys before I met Frank.  I know that if I stayed with any of those guys, I would not be as happy as I am today!  But man, at the time, those break ups HURT.  Ick. 

I experienced a lot of the same with jobs, promotions, houses, family, etc, etc, etc.  Things that initially seemed to be horrible, later turned out just fine.

I know, for myself, that no one deserves children.  Children are a blessing.  I cannot earn them, no one can.  You can’t earn blessings.  If you could, they’d be called paychecks.

And I am sure any parent reading this blog can testify that children are NOT paychecks – they are paycheck spenders!

If children were earned on a merit system, the world would look a lot different.  A lot more people would have biological children that want them – and the fostercare system would probably be empty.

We know SO many couples struggling with infertility and many of those couples have been (and are!) a tremendous blessing to Frank and me.  So many of these couples have shared their stories,wisdom, heartache, hopes and their sorrows with us and helped us figure out our own path.  Without them, I would feel so alone in this and I don’t. So even in a time that could be full of only sadness, we have community, love and hope.

I guess the last thing I want to say about this (and this is really such a Reader’s Digest version of my feelings on the topic) is that I didn’t get to this point of view over night.  God has been teaching me and helping me understand and providing before I even know what I need.  And God listens to prayer.  He may not do what I want Him to do, but the evidence in my life says that He always gives me His best.

I’m pretty ok with that.

real life conversations between Frank and me – updated

So I showed Frank my previous post.  He giggled.

As he read it, he giggled and repeated his own lines from the conversations.

And giggled harder.

  • Me: You really think you’re funny, don’t you?
  • Frank: (giggling) Yeah, I do.  Sadly, I am my own best friend. (giggling some more) ha ha ha – slow children – ha ha ha.  (shaking quietly on his side of the bed)  Ok, enough!

He’s still laughing.

real life conversations between frank and me

On our nightly ritual:

  • Frank: What time do you want to get up tomorrow?
  • Me: 6
  • Frank (leaning over to set the alarm, realizes the insanity of my request, narrows his eyes at me): C’mon Em, really? Really?
  • Me: 6:15
  • Frank: 7
  • Me: Frank, really, I’ll get up.  6:30.
  • Frank: 7
  • Me: 6:35.  And that’s my final answer.

On driving:

Scene: Frank is driving.  He is about to make a left turn, but hasn’t put his signal on yet or moved over.  In reality, he is going to make the turn just fine.  This is where I come in.

  • Me: (frantic) Left turn…. (and then remembering my manners) Please.
  • Frank: I know where I am going.   Remember how you were going to ask me “Do you know where you are going?” before you tell me where to go?
  • Me: Yes.
  • Me ( a few seconds later): Do you know where you are going?
  • Frank: YES!  We are going HOME.  This is our STREET.
  • Me: Oh, ok.  Cuz you didn’t get over, so I just thought you needed a reminder.  That’s our house on the left.

On sad one-liners:

Scene: driving past a “no outlet” sign.

  • Frank: Hey, you can’t plug in your hair dryer down there.
  • Me: Why?
  • Frank: Cuz they don’t have an outlet.  Get it? “No Outlet.”  You can’t–
  • Me: And we’re done.

Scene: driving past a “Slow Children Playing” sign

  • Frank: There are slow children playing here –
  • Me: Ok, enough.  Turn left! Please!

Scene: someone breaks suddenly in front of us.

  • Me: Frank! Stop!
  • Frank: Easy.  I got it.  Eyes down.  Why don’t you take a little nap?

On being panicked, looking for Frank’s log book

  • Frank: Emily, where is my log book?
  • Me: I don’t know.

– hours later, Frank finds the log book.

  • Frank: Emily, why was my log book with the Christmas decorations.
  • Silence
  • Silence
  • Me: Hmm.  I’m really not sure.  Did you put it there?
  • Frank: Emily. Who put away the Christmas decorations?
  • Me: I did.
  • Frank: So why did you put my log book in with the Christmas decorations?
  • Silence
  • Me: What was the question again?

On being sick.

Scene: The morning after Christmas.  I roll over to see Frank still sleeping, but I get the distinct sense that something is amiss.  What could it be?  I wander into the bathroom and see what I can only describe as a small disaster.  A bucket of – water? – next to the toilet.  And the shower curtain – is it? could it be? – might be stained.  I walk back into the bedroom and nudge Frank.

  • Me: Hey honey, what’s going on in the bathroom?
  • Frank: Yeah, I was going to tell you about that.  See, I got sick last night.
  • Me: (eyes narrowing) Ok.  What happened?
  • Frank: So I puked.  A lot.  And at about the sixth explosive vomiting wave, I lost control of my neck muscles.
  • Me: Ah.  So we need a new shower curtain?
  • Frank: Yeah, something like that.

Note on scene: this was the direct result of 3 lbs of prime rib and 1 lb of his mother’s peacans.  He can’t blame it on alcohol because, well, there just wasn’t any stomach space left for drinking at that point.

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give me Your heart

I think I am at the numb stage of this mess.  I am not crying about it whenever I think of it, but it almost doesn’t feel real.  A year ago, having children was a very real possibility, just on the horizon.  We were working to position ourselves financially, geographically, emotionally and mentally for the prospect of having children.

The possibilities were endless.

When we started trying, I started thinking about the possible due dates.  I would calculate the new due date, just in case that month worked.  A baby in September of 2009 was the first due date I calculated.

That is next month.

And I don’t say that as a “Next month is going to be a mess emotionally, so stay away” kind of warning (although, I might be a mess next month – I make no promises).  I say it as a way of marking time.

Then, now, and the space in between.

I was hopeful that when we went to Vegas, that when we came home, we’d be expecting a baby.  May 14th would have been the due date.  When I started to get hopeful, I thought about how wonderful it would be for a new baby and Frank to share the same birthday month.  Especially if we had a little boy.

When we started this journey, this hope for a baby was wide and vast and full.

And as the days and weeks and months ticked by, possibility was replaced by reality.

What is.

It is SO tempting for me to think about what could have been.

But what is the use of that?

There is only what was, what is and what will be.

And there is still hope, hope placed in a future and born out of the past and present.  Not hope placed in the woulda, coulda, shouldas.  Real hope.  Paul in the Bible says, perseverance in difficult times builds character and character gives us hope.

We talked tonight about the evidence of God in our lives.  I look at my life and I see God’s hand  moving in my life – sometimes vibrantly, sometimes quietly.

Being a mom isn’t about being able to bear biological children.  It’s about the act of mothering, nurturing, growing, building and loving.

And being a follower of Jesus is about loving as He loved.

When I left Bible Study tonight, there was a song playing on The Mix and the lyrics of the song were:

Give me your eyes!
Lord give me your eyes!
Everything I keep missing.
Give me your arms!
For the broken hearted!
Give me your arms
Lord, give me your eyes.
(Brendan Heath, Give Me Your Eyes)

That song met me right where I was at, right at that moment.  It’s about me (you, everyone) being after God’s heart.  Loving as He loves.  Being heartbroken for the things that break His heart. Celebrating the things He celebrates.  Greiving what He greives.

I have a long way to go.

vegas

We interrupt our regularly scheduled emotional roller coaster for a brief recap of our adventures in Vegas.

Day 1:

My mom arrived at 6:15 a.m. to take me to the airport.  She’s a peach.  She watched me give myself my trigger shot and then helped me wipe off the dripping blood and gently confirmed that I gave myself the shot in the vein and “man, it’s already bruising!”  Awesome. Uneventful (blood-free) time at the airport.  Had a snack.  Got on the plane.  Mechanical issue.  Lovely. Had some soda (delish).  Arrived in Vegas.

First of all, Vegas wants your money.  If you didn’t know that about Vegas, they make it apparent the minute you step off of the plane.  “Emmmmily – oh, Emmmmmily!  Come play our slots!  Your bags are going to take a while – have  a seat, get out some quarters and let the good times roll!”

My will power was too much for them.  I walked past the slot machines with hardly a backward glance.  Hardly.

I picked up my bags at the carousel, called Frank and got on a shuttle to the Bellagio.  Arrived at the Bellagio, found husband, changed, went on a mission for food.  Emily was VERY hungry.  Mmmm.

HPIM0162

Then we proceeded to walk most of the strip, all the way up to the Venetian.  This is one place where one block of walking equals 12 blocks.

We saw 10,234 slot machines on our little adventure.

The below picture is us being awesome at the Venetian.

HPIM0163

The nice thing about the Venetian: indoors and air conditioned.  Dry heat is still heat, my friends.  Don’t give me crap about dry heat when it is 105 degrees outside.  Heat is heat.

I was glowing (or perspiring like a mo-fo).

After our sweaty trek, we went back to the hotel and got ready for dinner.  Because we are connoisseurs of the buffet, we were naturally looking forward to tables and tables of meat and cheese and other delightful confections.  First stop: the Wynn Buffet.

HPIM0167

This picture is me trying not to be too obvious about how hungry I am.  This is at the atrium of the Wynn hotel.  It was my favorite hotel in Vegas, hands down.

And this picture, well, this is me preparing to eat my husband for dinner.  And I don’t mean it like that.  Well, maybe I do.  You tell me: is this a “come hither” look or is it a “I want my dinner” look?
HPIM0171

Finally, after 45 minutes of hoping and dreaming and praying that we would one day be at the front of the line – we were!  Eureka!

Our delight over our first meal resulted in two of the only food photos of the trip, but I am not going to post those here.  I don’t want anyone to be jealous (and also, Frank didn’t upload them to our Flickr account – dirty!!)

Then we walked back from the Wynn and decided to try to take in a very scandelous free show outside of Treasure Island.  Lots of gyrating female and male dancers in skimpy clothing.  Good thing people brought their kids.  “Hey kids, look what you can be when you grow up!”  Awesome.

Anyway – here is me outside of the Wynn.  Love. It.

HPIM0175

And ladies, don’t get jealous – he is all mine:
HPIM0178

Then we stopped at the Bellagio to take in the famous fountain display. For a desert, that sure was a lot of water.

HPIM0185

And then… bed time.  Cuz we party like rockstars, yo.

Day 2:

Got up, tried to go for a run.  While Vegas is a town that accepts only beautiful people (naturally attained or otherwise), they sure don’t want to do a lot to help you get beautiful.  Because when you are running on a treadmill, you can’t play the slots.  And if you are not drinking or gambling, they are not making money.

What I am trying to say is that the fine folks at the Bellagio wanted us to pay $50 for both of us to use their fine workout facilities.

No. Thanks.

Instead, I opted to sit at the pool and consider life. And read a saucy romance novel.

HPIM0193

And here we are together, hanging out by the pool. Frank is trying not to angry about the lack of frosty beverages in his hand.
HPIM0196

Once we were finished with being awesome poolside, we decided to enjoy yet another buffet. Mmmm.

And then we walked the strip.  In the Dry Heat.  Not so dry when you’re sweating through your socks, though.

Which leads us to Caesar’s Palace.  “Caesar, let’s go that way!” “No, Frank and Emily, let’s go THAT way!” Well, the Roman empire is no more, so I guess we all know how it turned out. Should have listened to us, Mr. Caesar.

HPIM0200

Frank asked the Egyptian Santa for a flat screen TV for Christmas. We will see if Egyptian Santa delivers.   (I’m not betting on it – he looked a little shady)

HPIM0216

And then, in the middle of the desert, we have the NYC skyline:
HPIM0219

Later that night, after I showered (again), we went out to the Palms.  The Palms was very cool.  We went up to the Playboy Club (which was more tame (visually speaking) than any of the casino bars, by far) and had a cocktail.  Then we headed over to the other tower of the Palms and went up to the Ghostbar, which was Frank’s favorite bar of all.  He was giddy with excitement.  Giddy.  I’m not kidding.  Have you ever seen Frank giddy?  Well, I have.  This is what it looks like:

HPIM0228

I know. I wish he’d just calm down.
And here are more pics of Vegas from that night:
HPIM0231

HPIM0233

Day 3
The Grandest Canyon of them all. And probably the best day of our trip. I loved, loved, loved it. Except for the part where I almost puked. And the part where we got stuck in the rain. But whatever – a small price to pay, in my opinion.  I’d do it all over again (but with an umbrella).

Our airplane:
HPIM0244

The Hoover Dam (ha ha):
HPIM0252

A view from the ground:
HPIM0271

“Emily, look off into the distance at the other side of the Grand Canyon, really feel it. Work it. Noice.”
HPIM0273

We were RIGHT. THERE. We were here, and the Grand Canyon was right THERE. Whoa.
HPIM0278

Oh, and then it rained.
HPIM0285

But the storms made for some cool views on the way back.
HPIM0313

HPIM0303

HPIM0347

Tired, mostly dry (but a little wet), we made our way back to our hotel.

Because seeing one of the most magnificient wonders of God’s creation wasn’t enough for one day, we also went to see Cirque du Soleil’s “O”. “O” is the phonetic speaking of the french word “Eau” which means “water.” (Not sure why I used all the quotes, but really – if you stayed with me this long, you probably don’t care. You probably just want me to end this torturous play-by-play of our vacation and put you out of your misery. Quotes are the least of your problems if you made it this far.) Anyway, the point being, the stage was water. Or, more accurately, it was a pool with an adjustable floor that went up and down depending on the scene.

“O” reminded me of two things: 1) I am not flexible. The most daring feat I accomplish is touching my toes. Touching my toes while balancing on the forehead of a woman who is balancing all of her weight on her big toe, which is securely placed on a trapeze – well, that’s why they made the Darwin Awards. 2) I am a spoiled brat. After the first two amazing sequences where people were swinging through the air, attached to another human being by only the friction created by their leg hair and their abnormally strong big toes, I started to be less impressed with, say, diving off of a several story platform, into a pool of water. I can barely bring myself to jump into a pool from the side, much less a diving board SEVERAL stories in the air.

My own personal guilt aside, it was a beautiful show. I really enjoyed it.

Day 4:

Went home.

***

And I’m spent.  Thanks for reading about our Vegas adventure!

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