I know this really isn't my designated "poor Marcie can't have a baby" blog, but its about my life, so I get to talk about it here.
The desire to be a mom is constant. I long to hold a baby in my arms. The term "baby" is fluid though...an infant. A two-year old. A seven-year-old. I can picture myself sitting on the floor of our apartment, tickling a baby's tummy, giggles filling the room. I can picture myself with a kindergartener, teaching him or her how to tie shoes. Poorly, according to my mother. I can picture myself hand-in-hand with a second grader walking along a deer trail in the woods, looking for colorful leaves, acorns, and signs of other wildlife, answering all the "Why, mama?" type questions I'm able to.
I can see all those things.
But the issue is that I don't always picture the same child. Sometimes I see a little girl with dark, bouncy curls, Ryan's brown eyes, and a joyful spirit making rivers with stolen spoons in the sanbox in the back yard.
Other times, I picture us with a boy with dark skin, and a crown of tight, black curls having a hard time sitting still during the sermon at church, but singing every praise song and hymn with the most beautiful, angelic voice.
I don't necessarily know how the road to parenthood will "end." I don't know how we're going to get there. I don't know if our next round of fertility treatments is going to work. I don't know if God is going to lay it on our hearts to bring a child into our family through the miracle of adoption.
All I know is that the desire to be a parent weighs heavily on my heart. Its a desire I never thought I'd have, or that I'd long to have fulfilled...
Monday, October 24, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Possibilities
I have taught for a while now. This is what...the beginning of my 8th year of teaching.
I've had 7 groups of my OWN kids, and one group of two entire grade levels at a school. I've never had a group of children who have so...deeply CHANGED me. My 16 kids this year have reached their dirty, sticky little fingers down into my soul and touched me in a way I never thought possible.
I just...I think God brought them into my life at this exact time because they're what I needed. They're teaching me patience. I kind of lost my patience with a student today, and my voice got louder, and they looked at me like I was nuts. While I am nuts, I think in past years I tended to YELL more when I needed attention. I don't do that this year. I find myself down on my knees talking to a student about a behavior rather than towering over them, and lowering my voice when I need to get attention or have a discussion with a child. My students taught me that.
I've learned to be positive. I put the positivity in my voice. I get excited about what kids are learning and what I'm teaching. I want my students to leave my classroom loving school. My kiddos give me that desire.
Like any situation in life, I bond more with some children than others. Adults do that, too. I've bonded more with some colleagues than others. I love them all, but I like some of them more than others. :) My students are absolutely amazing, and I am blessed to have them in my life. I hope that *I* am a blessing in theirs. I hope that they are able to look back as adults and remember me as someone who made an impact in their lives. A POSITIVE impact. I hope they know that they are loved, and that I see the individual gifts and talents that each of them have.
I've had 7 groups of my OWN kids, and one group of two entire grade levels at a school. I've never had a group of children who have so...deeply CHANGED me. My 16 kids this year have reached their dirty, sticky little fingers down into my soul and touched me in a way I never thought possible.
I just...I think God brought them into my life at this exact time because they're what I needed. They're teaching me patience. I kind of lost my patience with a student today, and my voice got louder, and they looked at me like I was nuts. While I am nuts, I think in past years I tended to YELL more when I needed attention. I don't do that this year. I find myself down on my knees talking to a student about a behavior rather than towering over them, and lowering my voice when I need to get attention or have a discussion with a child. My students taught me that.
I've learned to be positive. I put the positivity in my voice. I get excited about what kids are learning and what I'm teaching. I want my students to leave my classroom loving school. My kiddos give me that desire.
Like any situation in life, I bond more with some children than others. Adults do that, too. I've bonded more with some colleagues than others. I love them all, but I like some of them more than others. :) My students are absolutely amazing, and I am blessed to have them in my life. I hope that *I* am a blessing in theirs. I hope that they are able to look back as adults and remember me as someone who made an impact in their lives. A POSITIVE impact. I hope they know that they are loved, and that I see the individual gifts and talents that each of them have.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Where's the Joy?
If you know me at all, you know that for a huge portion of my life I was loud, exuberant, laughing, joking, without a worry in the world.
I haven't felt like that for several years. And I hate that. I don't know if its the infertility issues that we face that I allow to drag me down. I don't know if it's the continued chemical imbalances. I thought my meds had them pretty well-controlled, but lately I've been feeling SO anxious, and nothing seems to help.
Maybe its church. We haven't been faithful church-goers for quite some time. And I find that I need that.
So I'm on this quest to find some joy. I'm tired of moping through life. I want to be happy. I want the joyfulness I used to have. I wonder why I've allowed a little bit of life to steal it away from me....
I haven't felt like that for several years. And I hate that. I don't know if its the infertility issues that we face that I allow to drag me down. I don't know if it's the continued chemical imbalances. I thought my meds had them pretty well-controlled, but lately I've been feeling SO anxious, and nothing seems to help.
Maybe its church. We haven't been faithful church-goers for quite some time. And I find that I need that.
So I'm on this quest to find some joy. I'm tired of moping through life. I want to be happy. I want the joyfulness I used to have. I wonder why I've allowed a little bit of life to steal it away from me....
Thursday, April 14, 2011
My (un)Christian Heart
I've been a Christian for over 20 years.
I'd love to tell you I'm an avid Bible-reader and church-goer, but I'm not. I think I'm more upset with myself about the Bible-reading than the church-going, although both are important. If I want to know God intimately, and know what He has to say about EVERYTHING, I know where I need to. And I don't do that. Shame on me.
I really noticed today how mean I am. And hateful. And resentful. What is wrong with me? Ryan tells me I snap at people. I don't feel like I do, but it doesn't really matter what I *FEEL*, it matters what people are perceiving. For instance, Ryan went with me to my podiatrist. I took my sock and boot off for him to look at, and he was trying to put my sock back on for me, and I said "Give me that! I can do that!" I thought I said it in a joking tone, but Ryan took it as snappish.
I don't FEEL snappish. I think I tend to joke much more than I'm grumpy. But I guess if people don't know that about me, they're not going to get the message I'm sending.
I really want to get a tattoo somewhere *I* can see that says "Shut up, Marcie." Because that's what I need to do. I want the words that I say to be encouraging, positive, and uplifting, and I fear that more often than not, they are just the opposite. I want to be one of those people that listens ten times more than what they say.
So I need to watch what's happening in my head. If there's mean, resentful stuff starting to creep in there about other people, I need to turn on the self-talk to shut up. I need to be able to change the direction of my thoughts to more positive things...
Because I'm a Christian, and I love my brothers and sisters. We're all made in God's image, whether or not we hold the same beliefs...
I'd love to tell you I'm an avid Bible-reader and church-goer, but I'm not. I think I'm more upset with myself about the Bible-reading than the church-going, although both are important. If I want to know God intimately, and know what He has to say about EVERYTHING, I know where I need to. And I don't do that. Shame on me.
I really noticed today how mean I am. And hateful. And resentful. What is wrong with me? Ryan tells me I snap at people. I don't feel like I do, but it doesn't really matter what I *FEEL*, it matters what people are perceiving. For instance, Ryan went with me to my podiatrist. I took my sock and boot off for him to look at, and he was trying to put my sock back on for me, and I said "Give me that! I can do that!" I thought I said it in a joking tone, but Ryan took it as snappish.
I don't FEEL snappish. I think I tend to joke much more than I'm grumpy. But I guess if people don't know that about me, they're not going to get the message I'm sending.
I really want to get a tattoo somewhere *I* can see that says "Shut up, Marcie." Because that's what I need to do. I want the words that I say to be encouraging, positive, and uplifting, and I fear that more often than not, they are just the opposite. I want to be one of those people that listens ten times more than what they say.
So I need to watch what's happening in my head. If there's mean, resentful stuff starting to creep in there about other people, I need to turn on the self-talk to shut up. I need to be able to change the direction of my thoughts to more positive things...
Because I'm a Christian, and I love my brothers and sisters. We're all made in God's image, whether or not we hold the same beliefs...
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
WHY?
Sometimes I want to shake my fist at God. I know He'd understand my railing, or rather, I know he UNDERSTANDS my railing at what I perceive to be the world's injustices.
See, I don't understand why it seems like the "fertiles" of the world are all on some type of state or federal "assistance." My husband and I work our BUTTS off. We both went to college, and we both have multiple degrees. And I think that compared to the rest of the world, we make quite a bit of money. But that doesn't mean we don't have limits. We've made our financial mistakes and now we're trying to fix the financial mistakes. The motorcycle is paid off, the trailer is paid off, student loans are getting paid off, and the car is getting paid off, etc., etc. We don't borrow money any more, and we live within our means. We don't buy huge luxury items we don't need anymore. I'm not going to lie and say that we never eat out and we never buy some kind of junk we don't need. We do. But, we generally budget for it and can afford it.
There is a point to this, I promise. So, with all of that, I don't understand why I have to pay for "fertiles'" cigarettes, rent, clothing, and food, not to mention their healthcare, and the children that they continue to have, even though they are not able to independently afford said children.
See, my husband and I struggle with infertility. We have been trying to conceive for two years now, to no avail. So we're moving on to more invasive medical procedures to try to have a child that we CAN afford. But, you see, our medical insurance, that WE pay for, doesn't cover these infertility treatments. We have to pay out of pocket to try to do something that most people have absolutely NOT issues accomplishing. I'm not talking $100, or $500. I'm talking $15,000. The price of a small, brand-new vehicle. To try to have a baby. That I will NOT expect the general, American public to support. And there is no guarantee that those treatments will work and we will end up with a child.
How does that make sense? My tax dollars go to support people who reproduce outside of their means, but there is SIGNIFICANT cost involved for me to try to have a child that I will wholly support. There is debt involved for me to try to have a child. There are no handouts for me.
And it's a handout. I don't mind my tax dollars benefiting those who need a hand UP. I don't mind my dollars going to help WORKING families with daycare costs or housing costs, or even food costs. People who are TRYING to make it, and TRYING to make better lives for their children. People who hold on to their jobs, and don't purposely get themselves fired so that they can qualify for unemployment benefits on top of the assistance they already get.
Because I work darn hard. And I don't think its fair that people on public assistance have a better, higher standard of living than I do. I think that my money should go for ME to try to have a baby, not for people that can't afford to have children to reproduce like bunnies.
What it comes down to is this: get a job. Go to work REGULARLY. Pay your bills. Don't buy crap you can't afford. Don't expect for the general public to finance your sorry existence. Buy and use condoms correctly until you know you will be able to afford your child without having to rely on the hundreds of millions of other Americans to take care of you and your child.
And when I have to pay for your child, I'm sorry, but don't expect me to jump for joy and lavish your child with gifts. My gift to you is the cigarettes in your pocket and the formula in your kid's gut. And when I do have my own child and I'm FULLY taking care of that child by myself, I will look down on you, and think you less of a person because you choose not to, and you expect everyone else to bail you out of your stupidity.
Okay. I'm sorry. I know that was particularly ugly. But this is something that REALLY upsets me, and I was hoping that writing down my internal ranting would help me to process my feelings and hopefully let it go. I'll let you know how that goes. :)
See, I don't understand why it seems like the "fertiles" of the world are all on some type of state or federal "assistance." My husband and I work our BUTTS off. We both went to college, and we both have multiple degrees. And I think that compared to the rest of the world, we make quite a bit of money. But that doesn't mean we don't have limits. We've made our financial mistakes and now we're trying to fix the financial mistakes. The motorcycle is paid off, the trailer is paid off, student loans are getting paid off, and the car is getting paid off, etc., etc. We don't borrow money any more, and we live within our means. We don't buy huge luxury items we don't need anymore. I'm not going to lie and say that we never eat out and we never buy some kind of junk we don't need. We do. But, we generally budget for it and can afford it.
There is a point to this, I promise. So, with all of that, I don't understand why I have to pay for "fertiles'" cigarettes, rent, clothing, and food, not to mention their healthcare, and the children that they continue to have, even though they are not able to independently afford said children.
See, my husband and I struggle with infertility. We have been trying to conceive for two years now, to no avail. So we're moving on to more invasive medical procedures to try to have a child that we CAN afford. But, you see, our medical insurance, that WE pay for, doesn't cover these infertility treatments. We have to pay out of pocket to try to do something that most people have absolutely NOT issues accomplishing. I'm not talking $100, or $500. I'm talking $15,000. The price of a small, brand-new vehicle. To try to have a baby. That I will NOT expect the general, American public to support. And there is no guarantee that those treatments will work and we will end up with a child.
How does that make sense? My tax dollars go to support people who reproduce outside of their means, but there is SIGNIFICANT cost involved for me to try to have a child that I will wholly support. There is debt involved for me to try to have a child. There are no handouts for me.
And it's a handout. I don't mind my tax dollars benefiting those who need a hand UP. I don't mind my dollars going to help WORKING families with daycare costs or housing costs, or even food costs. People who are TRYING to make it, and TRYING to make better lives for their children. People who hold on to their jobs, and don't purposely get themselves fired so that they can qualify for unemployment benefits on top of the assistance they already get.
Because I work darn hard. And I don't think its fair that people on public assistance have a better, higher standard of living than I do. I think that my money should go for ME to try to have a baby, not for people that can't afford to have children to reproduce like bunnies.
What it comes down to is this: get a job. Go to work REGULARLY. Pay your bills. Don't buy crap you can't afford. Don't expect for the general public to finance your sorry existence. Buy and use condoms correctly until you know you will be able to afford your child without having to rely on the hundreds of millions of other Americans to take care of you and your child.
And when I have to pay for your child, I'm sorry, but don't expect me to jump for joy and lavish your child with gifts. My gift to you is the cigarettes in your pocket and the formula in your kid's gut. And when I do have my own child and I'm FULLY taking care of that child by myself, I will look down on you, and think you less of a person because you choose not to, and you expect everyone else to bail you out of your stupidity.
Okay. I'm sorry. I know that was particularly ugly. But this is something that REALLY upsets me, and I was hoping that writing down my internal ranting would help me to process my feelings and hopefully let it go. I'll let you know how that goes. :)
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Day Thirty
A picture of someone I miss:
This is my cousin Bill. He died in October 2006. He was the brother I never had. I still want to beat him. But I love him.
This is my cousin Bill. He died in October 2006. He was the brother I never had. I still want to beat him. But I love him.
Day Twenty-Nine
A picture of someone who can always make me smile:
My beloved husband. And you'll never guess why. LOL :)
My beloved husband. And you'll never guess why. LOL :)
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