Feeling broken

This weekend was a little rough for me. It was our 6th anniversary, and last year on our anniversary we announced my pregnancy with Addison. We also signed the papers to move into our house, so it was a very exciting time. I thought it was so amazing that I would be pregnant when we moved in, and that she would spend her childhood here. I planned her room, and imagined everything with her in mind. When we lost her, I couldn’t go into her room for weeks. And to me, it is still HER room.

I really hoped that this year, we could make another announcement on our anniversary. We will never replace her, but I want more than anything to bring a baby home. My body (yet again) is not cooperating. I was not expecting this as we were able to get pregnant with her so quickly. I feel so betrayed by my own flesh. Now that I have my “bionic cervix” I was supposed to be fixed.

My doctor (whom I LOVE, such a difference from my old OB!) has put me on several fertility drugs, but nothing is happening. I know I need to give it time, its only been 4 months since my surgery, and 1 month since I started taking the meds, but so many women in my online groups are getting pregnant right away. While I’m happy for them, I don’t understand why it’s not happing for us. Haven’t we been through enough?

My doctor says all my hormone levels and ovarian reserve look good, but I’m not ovulating. It could be due to stress, but I’ve always been a little ball of stress… I’d love to try acupuncture or other holistic alternative, but I live in a town where the cashiers ask you what tofu tastes like when you check out… I feel like such an island sometimes. I miss Davis, where I was “normal.” I feel like I’m fighting everything everyday.

This week was also tough for other reasons. The lady leading the rescue I got my mare from tuned out to be neglecting her own horses. The pictures were horrifying. I don’t understand how people can be the way they are. It’s exhausting trying to fight with everyone for what I feel is right. Every day my Facebook feed is full of animals of all kinds, betrayed by their caretakers, innocents who deserve a good life. It makes me so incredibly sad.

So many people in this town seem to not care. My across-the-street neighbor leaves his beautiful husky in a kennel all day and all night, chained as well because she tries to escape; who can blame her? Every time I walk by, I just want to cry. Can you imagine? Solitary confinement for your whole life. Feeding an animal does NOT equal proper care. It’s so frustrating.

I have had 2 different farriers out to trim my horses hooves, and both told me that hose slaughter was “necessary” and one says that he sells ones he breeds to the kill buyers if they “don’t earn their keep.” It makes my stomach churn. Since when does an animal owe you anything? How is not being a good rodeo horse warrant painful execution? Why can’t I find people with a heart here?

I’m hoping this next week and weekend things start looking up. Please keep us in your  prayers.

More Neruda Poetry–I could read these all day

From Still Another Day

“We the mortals touch the metals,
the wind, the ocean shores, the stones,
knowing they will go on, inert or burning,
and I was discovering, naming all the these things:
it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.”

Tattoos and poets

I have been wanting a tattoo in honor of Addison now for quite a while. I have several ideas, but I just cannot decide…

I love the following lines from Pablo Neruda‘s poem, La Muerta. 

mis pies querrán marchar hacia donde tú duermes,
pero seguiré vivo

(side by side translation here)

They capture the pain I feel everyday, but also the decision to keep moving forward, no matter how much I want to give up. I love Neruda’s poetry, and even got to visit one of his homes in Chile when I studied abroad, so it has even more weight for me. 

I’m not sure where I would get this (if I do), and in what font. I want it to be visible, but not like in your face. Elegant, but strong. 

 

I’ve also thought about an angel wing tattoo and someone drew a gorgeous picture of one that I love (you know who you are :)). It would be pretty big though and I would want it somewhere at least sort of visible. 

I’ve also considered getting her tiny footprints and her name and birthday. I feel like since we did not have her buried, there isn’t a permanent mark anywhere (not that I am permanent either…). Hmmm that makes me think we should have a plaque made. Yes I think I want that. Love how writing helps me make decisions sometimes.

 

Any ideas readers? On placement, subject, etc? I realize it is ultimately up to me, as it will be on my skin, but other’s perspectives are welcome. 

 

 

Strength in suffering

Yesterday in the shower I was thinking about the message at church yesterday (the shower is always a good place for reflection for me). The sermon was titled “I am Afflicted” and discussed how being a Christian isn’t a free pass on suffering, rather it is a guarantee you will suffer. Strangely, this was comforting. I guess before I felt like God was purposefully torturing me with the death of our daughter, that I did something wrong, or that he just didn’t care. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. The sermon touched on Job, who was put under enormous amounts of suffering to bring glory to God. God didn’t orchestrate his suffering, but rather allowed Satan to torture him, because he knew Job would stay faithful. Our suffering is the same way. If there were no suffering, there would be no Gospel. How we react to our suffering is what brings God glory. So while He doesn’t like to see our suffering, how we deal with it can help bring others to him. So I guess he allowed this to happen because he knew we could handle it, and that it could somehow bring Glory to his name. That gives me so much peace.

I also thought about how our Addison saved her future brothers and sisters. Through losing her, I found out about my condition, incompetent cervix, and will have surgery to fix it. The surgeon told me my chances of carrying to full term are near 100% with this surgery, and I’m so excited to get it and be “fixed.” The only real way to find out you have it is for something like this to happen, unfortunately. Her siblings will know her life, however short, was for a purpose. I pray that this doesn’t cause them guilt, but rather gratitude. I love you, my angel.