I decided to switch doctors. I felt that I was not getting the help I needed so I looked into a Catholic doctor in north NJ who deals with infertile women, the catch is she requires Creighton charting. I do not hate charting, I know it has helped so many women, I just hate the act of charting. I am terrible at the little stickers, the checking, I am so nervous I will make a mistake that I avoid it. It is childlike, I know, thankfully I have not avoided it. I have been faithfully checking and charting all month, but I just resent it. I have had these angry moments where in true childish fashion, I stomp and cry and say NO , DAD ,I DON'T WANNA!! It gets me no where, I feel silly after , and I end up charting. However it feels good to admit it to you, feels freeing to confess that I am a big baby. I see this new doctor next week, I am excited and nervous. Nervous because we do not have an infertility coverage, so I pay most of the bills out of pocket and just the weekly blood tests are 100 dollars. I am praying on this issue, I will admit I feel a little lost , I wonder how we will pay everything and if we are even supposed to be seeking more treatment. I feel selfish, I feel like child, lost and confused . I just want my Mom to come take me home, give me a warm bath and tuck me in.
Instead I am reminded of how things change when you get older. How you see your parents for whom they are and not the image you had of them when you were tucked in tight at 7 yrs old. Recently my mother needed me to tuck her in, she needed me to comfort her. The roles had changed, it was my turn to hold her, bath her and tell her it is all going to be okay. My mom was pregnant, I say 'was" and still I cannot believe the baby is gone. She buried her father-in-law on Saturday and the following Saturday we buried her baby. During the funeral the priest read a prayer from mother Angelica, it started off with " My Lord, the baby is dead! Why my Lord is the baby dead?!" My body shuttered, I sobbed , I stood looking at my mother and for the first time,I felt the same as her. I knew the pain she was feeling, I know that pain that overtakes your whole body, keeping you frozen in sadness. The roles had changed but grace is what followed. I never had much compassion for my mom when I was a younger woman. I saw her birth and carry and lose children and I did not desire to hold her, bath her or tell it would be okay. Only now after carrying my own cross can I see how wrong I was and how I wish I could take those moments back. Fortunately for us, the Lord does give second chances, it may not be what you imagined, it may be painful and heartbreaking but He does give us the ability to make better choices ,to grow. I am not perfect, I can still be hard of heart but I am trying , I am praying and most importantly I have two saints in heaven praying with me. I hope they are finding us holding one another up, equally in pain and equally in grace. I will close with something I read recently, " Tell me Sister, Why do those women have full arms and happy homes and all we have is a aching heart? My sister, you can not see ,look down, your arms are full of me".