Aaron graduated today with his Master's in Special Education! Hip, hip, hooray!!! His parents flew down for the momentous occasion and we got to enjoy a wonderful weekend visit with two of our favorite people. The laughs are unending, the conversations are natural and the love is mutually bonding. Saying goodbye was hard (so hard!), but that didn't take away from the excitement today brought. The echos of our screams must've been heard all the way to Oregon as we hooped and hollered for our proud graduate walking across the stage to receive his diploma. Janice's whistle is still ringing in my ears. Haha! What a proud (and relieved) wife I am. Relieved that this 2-1/2 year journey is now over (minus the Thesis he has to conclude this summer). Since October 2007 a lot of Aaron's free time has been spent doing school work. Ella and I are finally going to have our #1 man back! WOO HOO!!!
The guest speaker was amazing and at the end of her speech, she read some of the lyrics from, "I Hope You Dance," by Leeann Womack. My dad had dedicated this song to me my first year at U.C.S.D., while I was battling trying to find myself in the huge, crazy unknown world of college. Hearing the lyrics emotionally brought me back to the hard times I had in college, and how my dad, my mom and my family hoped that I would always dance...that I would not let life bring me down, but rather live it to the fullest, regardless of the difficulties and uncertainties it may bring. The lyrics definitely speak to the infertility battle I'm going through right now.
"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I hope you dance....I hope you dance.
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin',
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance."
On other news, I'm going to have my laparoscopy and hysteroscopy surgeries done this coming Thursday. I will be put under for the procedures, but soon after waking up, my doctor will be able to tell me what she found (if anything) that may be causing my infertility. A part of me hopes they don't find anything, but then that doesn't help us determine why I'm not getting pregnant. A part of me hopes I wake up to the doctor saying she found some endometriosis, she removed it and that I should be good to go and able to conceive right away! And then, there's the part of me that is scared that something really bad might be found...something that cannot be fixed. I know I can't think like that, but sometimes that is where my mind takes me. However, if nothing wrong is found, then Aaron and I are still living in this dense fog of unanswered questions...well, one question in particular, "Why can we not get pregnant again???"
Also, this coming Thursday, my father-in-law starts his radiation treatment for what started out as prostate cancer, but has since spread to other area(s). Even though I can in no way relate to Dan and what he's going through (the idea of having cancer is inconceivable and I won't even begin to claim I can understand what he and Janice are going through), but what I do know is that we both are victims of our own bodies. We are powerless. We both don't know why "it" (being infertility or cancer) has happened to either of us, but it is what we both have to live through, boldly and with hope and faith. We both hope to take charge of our body and fight the battle and win, but in the meantime, we both just have to play the waiting game...taking each day, each month, as it comes with our heads held high, with tears buried within and with our family by our sides. The chemicals Dan takes, the fertility drugs I've taken, the countless visits to our doctors, the tears shared with family members, the sacrifices we've had to make in our lives have all united Dan and I at this stage in each of our lives, and I can only pray that we both come out happy, healthy, cancer-free and pregnant (well, not Dan on that last one!). Through all of this, at least for me, I'm realizing that even though I am powerless to my infertility, God is in full control. With bad comes good and nothing in my life nor Dan's life are not planned or given to us without a purpose. Hard to always see that reason when in so much pain and so uncertain about the future, but it's there, and it is that reason, that divine purpose, that is helping me pull through this. Love you, Dan! You are always in my prayers.
1 comment:
I know I don't leave enough comments on here, and I know how much they mean...even if it's from me :) You certainly have insight into yourself and others, and I think you've grown a lot in the last few years that we've been trying for #2. You see the world differently and the world sees you differently, and not in a bad way but just a different way. I appreciate so much you caring for my family in the midst of your troubles, it means the world to me. And yes, I think my Dad might get pregnant if he continues being the fembot he truly is and always will be :) Just kidding Dad, you Gomet!!!!!!!!!!
I love you honey, always and forever.....
Me.
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