Jesus Christ, Leave Me Alone!

Let me start out by saying that I am not here to offend anyone. I honestly believe everyone has a right to their individual beliefs and should be allowed to express them freely and without discrimination. However, just as I do not press my beliefs on people, I would appreciate that others follow suit. With that being said, I just want to clearly express that I do not believe in a god. I also believe that the bible should not be taken in a literal context but merely as a collection of intelligent fiction that blends legend with historical accounts and is meant to be symbolic literature taken with a grain of salt. Allow me to clarify ~ These opinions do not make me an evil human being.

When I was growing up, my parents brought me to church on countless Sundays. I was baptized, went to parochial school from grade school through high school, took communion, was confirmed, confessed my sins, and remained good friends with a nun who taught me in second grade. I have never believed in god. As much as I try to wrap my head around the concept, it all just seems so preposterous a notion to me. I am not comfortable praying to an invisible entity. I do not believe that kneeling down, clasping my hands, bowing my head, and pleading to the "guy in the sky" for forgiveness will ever bring me closer to bearing a child.

I am the oldest of 4 children and grew up in a discordant household. My parents' belief in god did not bring peace to my family nor did it miraculously cure the extreme disharmony that threatened to destroy it. I lived very fearful of my father and suspicious of my mother. One mild example, when we arrived home from church, all hell would break loose. My father demanded a hot breakfast, my mother complained that she didn't feel like cooking for 6 people. They would vociferously yell at each other...the kids would run and hide. This Sunday routine lasted for years and I eventually grew to hate anything that had to do with church. I'll refrain from writing about the abuse.

Long story short, my parents divorced after 25 years of marriage. My father and I were estranged for almost 8 years before I decided to invite him to my wedding celebration. I wouldn't say that our relationship has been repaired in any way...Now that I'm older, I've just learned how to cope with his antics a lot better.

*sigh*

I did eventually call my mother about the ectopic. She said some really poignant things. I felt relieved that I spilled my guts. I did not want to call Dad. I never feel like he listens and in all honesty, I was fearful of what he would say. He is a fire-and-brimstone christian and knows I'm an atheist...at least, he should. I told him numerous times that I do not believe in his god. SO. I took the easy way...and sent him an e-mail.

*************************************

My abridged letter to Dad:

Sorry that I haven't been able to keep in better touch. I've been seriously ill and just this week am trying to get back on track again. I missed 6 days of work over the course of February...not to mention the multiple excursions to the hospital and back and then trying to work in between. It has been a real eye opener and I'm happy to be well again!

DH mentioned that he told you that we are trying to conceive. As fate would have it, we are having trouble. We realized something was wrong and went to a specialist last January 2008 only to be misdiagnosed and have to go to another doctor about and hour away from work. Anyway, long story short, I got pregnant last month for the first time ~ however, it ended up being ectopic (the baby was growing in my right fallopian tube) and I had to have 4 injections of chemotherapy to resolve the issue. This has been an extremely emotional as well as physically trying time for me. I'm extremely lucky to be in good hands...some women die from ectopics. DH has been a wonderful support too. I feel much better, although I'm not out of the woods just yet. You take care and I'll be keeping in touch.

Love,

Sarah

This was his entire response:

My dear, Sarah -

I am so sorry to hear of your illness, and your disappointing period of conception. I am constantly praying for both of you to receive your hearts desires. I am not sure of how close you both are to believing in, and staying in touch with God, but I know He is there for those who trust in Him, and He will be there for them in times of need. I hope you turn to Jesus as your Savior, pray to Him for help, and then be patient to receive His blessings.
Sarah, I know it works, because I have been asking for God's help all of my life, when my life wasn't going in the right direction, and He has always been there for me. My life has always been up and down like everyone else, but in the end I have always come out on top again with His help, and all I did was ask for His help.
How you believe, and what you believe in is entirely left up to us as individuals, but if we truly want our lives to begin to head in a more positive, and pleasant direction, we have to believe it will, and make the necessary changes in our way of thinking, and put your Faith in the Truth, which is God's written Word.
I know, it's difficult to be a good follower of the true God in today's world, because the world has become so deceitful and immoralistic. We all have to live in the world, but we don't have to be of the world. We must remain the ones who believe, and stay the true believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, and live good, righteous lives in His honor. We will all then benefit through His Grace, and receive His Peace, Love, and Blessings.
A child born to a mother, and father, and husband and wife is the greatest gift of all from our Father God in Heaven, because only God can create this human life. We will continue to pray for both of you, and both of you continue to pray, and have Faith, and patience for your blessing to come, and it most certainly will. God will bless both of you, that's a reality.

Love, Dad



**************************************

All I wanted to read/hear was that he was there for me if I needed anything. Perhaps we could make arrangements for a visit and talk about what happened. God forbid, during these difficult times, he should take a stand as my father and really BE a father. He never was a good example. Why should anything change now?

I feel incredibly isolated when it comes to my immediate family. As I've mentioned before, I am close to my middle sister. We keep in touch pretty regularly and DH and I spend the nights there when we visit PA. I'm very grateful for our relationship...we survived plenty of shit growing up; however, I would like to feel some sort of pleasant connection with my parents...just once. I wish they would call me on their own. I wish they were capable when I need them most. I wish their god told them to help me. I implore them to listen for I'm going through hell.

Thee end.

To Tell or Not To Tell

When DH and I decided to seek professional help with TTC, I was at odds with myself as to whether I should tell my family about our situation. My parents and I are estranged, so I didn't feel the need to spread the word to them; however, I'm close to my Middle Sister/FIL/MIL/SIL and wanted them to know 'we're working on it.' (MIL keeps asking when she'll have a grandchild...)

I went months before I mentioned anything to ANYONE (including friends) about my treatments. For one, I felt 'broken' ...like there was something wrong with me and it was embarrassing and hurtful. Secondly, I feared that if TTC didn't work out for us, I'd have to explain each and every month what happened. Again, embarrassing and VERY hurtful.

We've been TTC for 2 years ~ only 1 year using meds. Feeling isolated and alone, I finally broke down and had a heart-to-heart with my sister, MIL, and SIL a few months ago. I must admit, I felt SO MUCH better after I explained what was going on. It's still hurtful to keep them posted on negative outcomes (wish things were different 'tis all!), but overall, I feel really blessed to have these people in my life...by chance. Afterall, there have been MANY times through all of this, I really wanted my mother there.

IUI #1 was in Dec. 2008 and the people I told rooted for me. I got a text msg the day of IUI from MIL saying ' Swim, Boys Swim!!!!!!!!' LOL!! Then at X-mas time, my SIL wanted me to open a present a little early. I opened the burgandy velvet pouch and a Goddess of Abundance Pendant with a Moonstone belly (illustrated above) was inside. I cried. again. This time, tears of joy. I never take it off.

Now there is the tragedy of IUI#2. As my hCG levels were steadily rising and we were only privy to the news for a few short days, I was obligated to become a godparent to my newborn niece. We were travelling out-of-state to become a part of her big day, coping with what was happening, while trying to remain calm around family who had no clue. I broke down and told my middle sister, who is becoming a registered nurse, what was going on. I hesitated telling anyone else simply out of fear. Fear that this moment was too good to be true. Fear that this pregnancy would not work out.

I work for FIL so eventually I was under obligation to let him know what was happening to me. There were (2) evil methotrexate injections to be had and aside from wretching my guts out...mentally, I was ashamed and deeply saddened by the choice I had to make. I needed time away...from everything and everyone.

Only this past weekend did I tell my mother and other sibling the news. I do not want people to feel sorry for me and especially say the wrong things (which most people have the uncanny knack of doing, unbeknownest to themselves). I admit. I took the cowardly route and sent each of them a brief email. I simply cannot bear explaining what happened over and over again. It's like reliving the incredibly hurtful moment repeatedly to people who barely know anything about my life in the first place.

Mom did write back. She never calls or visits me. I don't really know why I thought this time would be any different. She said she is going to pray for me and I suppose I should be happy she communicated with me at all. I don't have the heart to remind her I'm an atheist ~ especially now.

*******************************************

I went for b/w and an u/s yesterday and am hopeful that this ectopic experience is over. RE did not see a change in the cyst; however, the fluid that surrounded the tube is gone. My hCG levels declined from the 750s to somewhere around 659 ~ an approx. 11% drop. RE is almost positive, I will not need surgery to remove my tube. I have another appt on Friday to ensure that the levels steadily decrease.

Personally I think he is doing everything he can to keep my inner body intact. I forgot to mention that while we were having a discussion about possible surgery, I asked Dr. B if there was any chance that I could keep my tube after it was removed. After all, it IS mine. He looked surprised ~ and then laughed...and said, "I'll have to ask, but I don't see why not."

Hey. Ya wanna piece of me? ;)

sus huevos aquí

"The female body is a very complex organism", said the man in the white coat as he haphazardly pointed to the anatomically-correct diagram of the female reproductive system. "It is a well-known fact that only a small percentage of women can actually get pregnant, contrary to the popular belief that they are as fruitful as rabbits. You see, the process of ovulation is controlled by the brain and through the release of hormones from the pituitary gland. Not everyone can ovulate for one reason or another. We cannot determine why that happens, although we can hypothesize. Fertiliziliation of an egg is an exact science. If something is not functioning precisely, just at the right moment, pregnancy will not occur."

*******

When I was a little girl, perhaps 5 or 6, Nana and Pop-Pop took me to the grocery store during a weekend visit. I skipped along the food aisles while my grandparents made their distinctive selections. The goose pimples prickled the tiny hairs on my arms as we got closer to the refrigerated section. I watched with wide eyes as Nana opened several pink cartons so as to determine which container would hold (12) satisfactory unbroken shells. While seated in the car, Nana placed the rigid styrofoam carton of eggs in my lap. "You're in charge of these," she hissed. "We don't want any of them broken on the ride home."

I cradled the delicate commodities the entire way, watching them intently while Pop-Pop's ol' jalopy sputtered its way to our destination. I could feel their movement as they jostled back and forth. My lips moistened as my tongue moved across them in hunger. I clearly imagined early breakfast the next morning after church...Nana tossing the fluffy yellow yolks in the sizzling buttery bottom of her cast-iron pan. "Sunny-side up or scambled?", she'd gruffly ask. Perhaps MY chosen hen fruit will reveal a double sunny center! Oh, how my tummy growled with anticipation...

As Pop-Pop pulled into the driveway, I smiled. Nana would be so proud of how I sheltered the fragile cargo. With each sudden stop and winding turn, the eggs were always nestled comfortably, free from harm. Nana suddenly opened the passenger door and snatched the package from my hands. I grinned as she carefully opened the lid to double-check their condition. "3 broken!", she snarled as the carton dripped gelatinous goo. "How disappointed I am in you, Sarah. It was such a simple request."

To this day, I honestly do not know how those god-damned eggs got broken. It is an utter mystery to me. I did all the right things and still, my tenacious efforts proved futile. How could this have happened? Was it really meant to be?

*******

Now. 25 years later, seated patiently in a physician's office, I find myself asking the very same questions related to the very same principle objects...eggs.

Illusive ethereal eggs.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette