Faith

I am a very spiritual person. I don't always talk about my faith here, or even in my real life with people who don't know me very well. But it is always there, in the background, making up who I am.

When I struggled with infertility it didn't rock my faith. It didn't because I don't believe that God is directly responsible for what goes on in our daily life. Let me explain that. I don't believe that God was responsible for me getting pregnant or not getting pregnant. How could I believe that. I believe God gives us strength. He/she makes up much of our character. He/she gives us tools which we can then use or waste as we choose. I cannot and have not ever been able to believe that God controls our actions or the things that happens to us. If that were so I would have to hold God responsible for people getting cancer, for terrible things happening to children, for the fact that some of us live in spendor while others can't find enough food or water.

So perhaps in order to reconcile those awful things that happen in the world, I have come to believe that God works through us not to us. I believe God and my faith make up much of who I am. I have been given many gifts. I am intelligent, logical and compassionate. It is up to me to make the most of those gifts. To be the best person I can be to honour what I have been given. I used my intelligence and logical thinking to get a very good education. I was lucky and born into a fantastic family. They instilled in my a sense of self confidence and self esteem. As a result of all of that I was able to confidently go into a carreer that allowed me to make very good mony.

With that money I have been able to do some good. We contribute significantly to our church, including their mission and services fund. I have sponsored child in Zimbabwe for approximately 10 years now (he is almost 16 and doing very well in school these days!) I support the United Way and some other local charities. I also volunteer my time and expertise with both pro-bono legal work to families that cannot afford representation and to various committies in the community. I think it is important to give back. It is part of my faith. If God grants you gifts, you have a responsibility in my eyes to use that gift to also help others.

So when I wasn't able to get pregnant I didn't blame God, quite the opposite. I attended retreats. I prayed. I pray a lot anyway (sort of like a continous coversation -albeit very onesided, throughout the day) I asked for patience and the strength to continue enjoying my life while I waited for the one thing I wanted most.

But we all know that faith isn't always logical. When I was diagnosed with the brain tumour I was scared. I was 36.5 weeks pregnant. I had learned to trust in the pregnancy and had really enjoyed it for about 4 months. I was desparate to deliver my son before the illness (I couldn't eat, had been hooked up to an IV for almost a week and was very, very sick) or the drugs I had to take could harm him in anyway. And then he was here.

And he was like magic. Like a miracle far greater than I had even dared to imagine. And I was angry. So very, very angry. I couldn't even look at him without thinking that I wanted him so very much, waited for him for so very long and now I might not get to raise him, to see him grow up, to help him explore the gifts God had granted him and become the self-confident young man I knew was within him. I needed someone to be angry with and I chose God. It wasn't logical. I wasn't capable of being logical at that point. I was angry. I didn't understand why God had given me this immense yearning to be a parent and then jeopordize my ability to do the job. He doesn't follow with my beliefs. If God didn't cause my infertility, and doesn't cause cancer or any of the other awful things that happen, he surely didn't give me a brain tumour. But as I said, I was so angry and needed a target.

I didn't pray. Not once in the 7 days between his birth and my surgery. I didn't ask for strength, or a good recovery, or offer thanks for my fantastic family who had dropped everything (every one of them) and spend tons of money and potentially jeopordized their carreers and travelled to where I was. I blamed. I asked why? Why me? Why now? Just why?

I recovered fantastically from my C-section. As soon as Boo was delivered I felt immensely better. With the placenta and the hormones gone, I stopped vomitting, the headache disappeared and I felt better than I had in a month. 24 hours later the catheter was removed (had been there for almost a week because I wasn't able to walk) and I was able to get up. Straight. And walk.

I went home and other than some balance issues from the tumour I felt fantastic. I also recovered really quicly from the brain surgery (relatively speaking). The neuro surgeon had told me that a good outcome would be that I would be home from the hospital (laying carefully in my own bed instead) in 5-7 days. My neurologist had told me to be realistic, that it might not be that quick, but that if I wasn't home in 5 days she would agree to transfer me to the local hospital (so that my son could visit me easily) and she would follow my recovery instead of the surgeon. Well I was home in 2 days! Mind you, I spent a good deal of time in bed. But the day after I got home I went for a 5 minute walk outside, and gradually increased it every day.

But did I say thank you. Thank you for giving me the strength to get through this. The strength to focus on my son and prioritize so that I could spend as much time as possible. No, I was still angry, still raw.

And now I am so ashamed of that. I drew so much strength from God during my infertility. The whole church supported me. I was on prayer lists and I recieved a prayer shawl. For some reason my hyperlink isn't working. This is the link http://www.shawlministry.com/

My prayer shawl was made with colours chosen specifically because of their symbol of fertility and as each square was made, prayers were offered that I would become a parent.

I am so glad that God has broad shoulders and a lot of forgiveness. I'd like to believe that he/she knows that I needed someone to be angry with and took on the role readily. Still, it makes me feel better to acknowledge publicly that I am thankful. Thankful for my miracle, thankful for the health it took to get through this intact, thankful that I have no permanent deficits from the tumour.

But mostly, I am thankful that I now have a whole new perspective on life. I am enjoying my son every minute of every day. I don't plan to go back to work at the end of the year. I am not sure how long I will stay home (not permanently) but I will be home with him while he is little.

And now I will pray for strength once again. For the strength to live my life without fear. For the strength to someday soon start trying for another.

And I pray in thanks, for oh so much in my life.

You will have to excuse the typos in this post. It has been very emotional writing and I don't have the energy to go back and re-read it to correct typo's.