Meaning it

Boy, am I antsy tonight. And bored. And these feelings usually lead to one thing - sadness. I started a post earlier today in which I wrote that I felt so much better, which I did at the time. By this evening, though, I started to feel down again.

I think the problem is that I got up at the crack of dawn. It was literally still dark out! I know, I know, this is an everyday occurrence for probably most of you. I don't expect any sympathy. But since my husband doesn't get home from work until after 11:30 p.m., that means a long day of doing nothing for me.

I shouldn't say nothing. The reason I woke up early was to pray outside the abortion clinic at 7 a.m.. Then I came home and cleaned the kitchen and even the toilet. That's big for me. I'm not, shall we say, a daily or weekly cleaner. I usually put it off until we have visitors coming or until I just can't take it anymore. Today was a day I couldn't take it anymore.

Then my sick husband decided he was well enough to go to work (thank God! I was afraid he'd be worse today, with possibly a full-blown stomach bug). Since he left I've just been relaxing and growing increasingly bored. And antsy. I don't have anything to do today, we have no money for grocery shopping, and we're having leftovers tonight so there's nothing to cook.

Don't get me wrong. I am a professional relaxer. I'm not usually one to need productivity in my life. I know this isn't exactly a good thing, but at the same time I wouldn't exactly say I've entered seven-deadly-sin territory. So the fact that today I actually wasn't happy with all the free time on my hands was rather odd.

So that's where I am now. Antsy. And bored. And finding myself leaning towards a tendency to be a little bit sad. You know, when all those terrible thoughts start floating around in your head - the I'm-ugly-I'm-useless-Everyone-has-a-baby-so-why-can't-I sort of thoughts. Definitely of the devil. Don't worry, I'm not really there yet. I'm okay. There have been zero tears and I haven't even complained to my husband (but he's still technically sick, so no complaining allowed).

Because my mood sometimes comes across a little dramatic in my writing, I think I need to have a color-coded alert system, like the Homeland Security Advisory System (yes, that's the technical name) so that you don't think I'm more distraught than I am. Using that scale - and let's call it the Infertile Stability Advisory System - I'm currently "guarded." Not bad.

So I need to stay busy to keep my mind off of those bad, bad thoughts (hence my current blogging). I need to ask God for patience, again. I need to ask him to help me find joy in the here and now. And I just need to pray.

Speaking of prayer, I have a prayer that I really like that I keep in my folder with all my Creighton charts. I try to say it every night after I chart for the day, and I have even posted it here before:

Father, I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only your will be done in me,
and in all your creatures -
I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father.

Last night while saying it, I sort of began asking myself some questions. Here is how the dialogue went (albeit a tad embellished, since I don't really carry on full two-sided conversations with myself, even though I'm sure you wouldn't have a hard time believing it if I told you I did):

Me (after reading prayer): Do you really mean what you're saying?

Me: It's a prayer. You just read it. So, yes.

Me: Okay, so those parts about surrendering completely to God, no matter what, you're okay with those?

Me: Of course. I'm always trying to do my best with that. It might be hard, but I'm trying.

Me: Are you? Really? When you read it, it isn't painful?

Me: Painful? I just read it. We're supposed to surrender, so, ya, whatever.

Me: What if you made this prayer a little more specific for our situation, and actually say out loud the full statements pertaining to infertility. How do you feel now?

Me: Like crap! I can barely read it! This is painful.

So that's a little how it went, but pretty sped up and in my head. You get the picture. And it was painful. Here's the first part of the prayer again, with the new parts I added in red:

Father, I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will, no matter what that means for my infertility.
Whatever you may do, I thank you, even if that means I never get pregnant:
I am ready for all, no matter what you plan for my family, I accept all.

I think I sometimes (a lot of times) say things without truly meaning them in my heart. I just tear through a prayer like this, without it really resonating. It becomes to empty. I can say "do with me what you will" a hundred times and not mean it. But what this prayer says is huge and unless I consciously add in my parts about infertility, I am able to ignore its deepness, and it does nothing for me. When I read it with my new parts, though, I am forced to confront what I am really saying to God. I have to face it head-on, and it hurts.

Now, if I pray this every night and try my best to truly mean it - and ask God to help me to truly mean it - hopefully the pain will slowly dissipate and one day I will truly mean it. I'm not there yet, that's for sure. But I think God is pleased that I'm trying.

Well, there are only about three and a half hours til my husband gets home, so the wait is manageable. And after writing this, and having a chance to work through my thoughts (via the miracle of blogging), I might even be bordering on "low" on the Infertile Stability Advisory System!

Have a great night. You are all in my prayers.