No wonder I don't blog anymore, just trying to get on line was excruciating. I can't imagine the kind of dedication that made my previous blogging possible.
So on Friday I took the pregnancy test and stared at it with my blurry, way too early morning gaze and it was negative. I stood staring at it for a long time. Then I went back to bed for a few hours and then tried another one and that was negative and then that night I got my period. It was like hearing that someone was dying in the morning and then watching them die in the evening. Only this someone was not ever real.
I have this growing, deepening anger at God. I've been angry at Him before, but because I've always needed Him in my life, I moved as quickly as possible through the anger and then just let it be. Somethings you just never know the why of.
But there's no moving quickly through this anger. It's deep rooted. It's like the straw that broke the camel's back. I do not live my life thinking, "what if." I don't. Because it's pointless. So, I haven't allowed myself to waste much time thinking, what if I hadn't been sexually abused by my great uncle, my special friend, the church elder, a man who carved a pentagram into the skin of his grandson's forehead, and raped and sodomized his daughter, his sons, his grandchildren, his nieces, his nephews, local girls, the friends of his children and me every time he saw me, from before I knew how to speak until I was in grade school? Would it have been awesome if that wasn't true of me, if that didn't make up my experience?
Or here's another one, wouldn't it be great if my parents also hadn't of been sexually abused when they were children and therefore were emotionally available to me as a child? Then I would have been raised feeling loved and cherished instead of ignored and a burden.
Or, here's another one, wouldn't it have been great if I had been raised in a church where people had bake sales and tent evangelical meetings in July and they taught grace and truth and good fellowship, instead of being raised in a church begun by a mad man who felt he was the reincarnated spirit of John the Baptist sent to preach the imminent second coming of Christ and to begin a prophetic church based on Principles in the midst of the evil and fiery Last Days. Not to mention the fact that his successor sexually abused dozens of girls who attended Bible School and the other sexual abuses that grew up and in and around the cracks of this church like a cancer and that caught up at least two generations of my family.
But all that is true. You would think, after all that, all that shit that I didn't ask for, that doesn't happen to most people, that makes me weird and broken and strange, you would think that maybe now, God would be like, "Hey, I'll cut her a break."
Especially because after I caught myself, as a young adult, doing stupid things because of this past, I made the tough decision to face up to the damage and found the courage to remake my life, to choose hope and joy and forgiveness over bitterness and anger.
I think God is up there, just amused by me, He's like, "Hey, hey come look, look at this girl over here. I knock her down again and again and again, and she just gets right back up again. It's great. Watch. Even if I destroy her dreams of motherhood, which I happen to know will bring up intense feelings of worthlessness and shame from her past along with the grief, even then, she's get back up."
For the first time in my life, I realize that life may be nothing more than an unending series of suffering. I feel like, no matter how hard I try, God can always mess it up for me. He's never going to stop screwing around with my life. I'm that clay pot that was made just to be broken and nothing will ever go right in my life.
I don't completely believe this, not yet. But I'm seriously considering it. It's right there. It's a real possibility and it makes nothing worthwhile. This creates a much deeper crisis, a crisis of faith or of the whole nexus of my life. I could take the suffering, if I could believe that there was a point to it, that it would be redeemed and would go toward an even better future.
But take that belief away, and what do I build the rest of my life on? I don't know how I'm going to resolve this, I'm just living in the question and trying not to judge myself for what I feel, even if what I'm feeling is very dark.
I always do come through in the end. I just have to have faith that if I let myself sink in and feel what I need to feel, that I will then start to heal at the right time.
If God is in the process of completely undoing me, then there's no point in resisting it or being ashamed of the fact that I'm falling apart. In fact, resisting falling apart, judging myself for falling apart and trying to hold onto to stupid platitudes, like, "count your blessings," and "keep your chin up" only prolongs the agony.
Maybe I'll come out of this with some incredible deep wisdom, some unearthly serenity. But that doesn't just come easily, you have to go through the fire for that stuff. I used to be all about that, all about the deep parts of life. Now I would just settle for normalcy. But that's clearly never, ever going to be an accurate descriptor of my life.
We aren't going to try the clomid this month. The day after I got my period, I woke and felt clear headed for the first time in a long, long time. It was a cold, clear morning, there were red leaves outside my open kitchen window and I could hear the crows calling. We had French toast and fried eggs, we curled up on the couch and watched some Travel Channel.
I just couldn't stomach going through the whole thing again, dumping all that hormone into my system and getting lost in those murky emotional swamps for weeks on end. If it were up to me, I'd stop all the infertility treatments. I'm just waiting for our move to Georgia and it doesn't seem to far away now.
Provided God is not a monster, I should be able to have a family then. I dream about it a lot lately. I heard Michael Buble's song, "Haven't Met You Yet," and it summed up so well how I feel that I think I might paste it into my children's baby books.
I'm not surprised, not everything lasts
I've broken my heart so many times, I stopped keeping track
Talk myself in, I talk myself out
I get all worked up, then I let myself down
I tried so very hard not to lose it
I came up with a million excuses
I thought, I thought of every possibility
And I know someday that it'll all turn out
You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, that I give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet
I might have to wait, I'll never give up
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life
And I know that we can be so amazing
And, baby, your love is gonna change me
And now I can see every possibility
And somehow I know that it'll all turn out
You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, I give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet
