...for anniversaries. I had one yesterday: it's been one year since my first appointment with the RE, Dr. M.
It's funny, I wasn't planning on it, but I went out to the area of town near his office, which is rare. I stopped by Bath & Body Works because I wanted something that smells good, and I went to the Walgreens to get a Neti Pot and cough drops because I seem to be catching every virus that comes my way this season. And between these errands, I contemplated what I've been through since one year ago, when I was in hopeless limbo, still worried about whether I would ever have children.
I haven't seen Dr. M since my follow-up appointment last July after my surgery. The last thing he told me was to let him know when I get pregnant and have a baby and to send pictures. I know he would just love to add me to the photo album and count me as one of his success stories, but I still took hope from that. I knew it wouldn't be long.
Well, it wasn't terribly long until I got pregnant, but I never did notify him before I had another miscarriage. And now, it's been so long I hardly even think about my RE experience any more. But my outing yesterday reminded me of my hope and determination to be one of his success stories. I know I can have kids, even though I have trouble believing it sometimes, and when I do, it will be thanks to Dr. M, who made my uterus a hospitable place for a baby.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
On House-Buying vs. Homeownership
As I've mentioned here before, DH and I are in the process of buying a house. We're in the lull right now between the acceptance of the offer and closing, which is in about three and a half weeks.
When we first walked through "our" house, and we both started to know that this was where we wanted to live, I felt such excitement. But that excitement was rightfully restrained. This is where I want to live, but that has little to do with actually living in this house. There are a thousand steps in between those two things, and a thousand chances for something to go wrong, something to send us back on the search at square one. But after passing a few big hurdles, the chances for disaster go way down.
On our way home from this our last round of house-hunting, we made plans to go back that night and bring my parents and get their blessing. Back at home, Erich and I talked excitedly about all we could do with the house and why it was so right for us. But we knew not to get ahead of ourselves--NOTHING was written in stone. That's when I realized that deciding to buy a house is a lot like finding out you're pregnant.
Knowing this is the house you want to live in as as much like homeownership as two little lines on a pregnancy test is like a baby. One leads to another, but they aren't really anything alike.
Putting in an offer is making your first prenatal appointment. You want a response on the offer, and you want to hang onto the baby long enough to make it to that appointment. Getting a counteroffer is not having spotting or significant cramping in the first few weeks. Getting acceptance of the contract from the seller is seeing the heartbeat for the first time.
Getting a mortgage is making it to the second trimester. Closing is making it to the third. Moving is giving birth. (Not looking forward to that part!) And then that's it, right? Nope, homeownership is parenthood. And then I can't really continue the analogy, but there you have it.
I'm excited to be just about to the "second trimester" on the road to homeownership. Now if only I can ever make it to the second trimester of pregnancy, I'd be even happier to have passed the major hurdles!
When we first walked through "our" house, and we both started to know that this was where we wanted to live, I felt such excitement. But that excitement was rightfully restrained. This is where I want to live, but that has little to do with actually living in this house. There are a thousand steps in between those two things, and a thousand chances for something to go wrong, something to send us back on the search at square one. But after passing a few big hurdles, the chances for disaster go way down.
On our way home from this our last round of house-hunting, we made plans to go back that night and bring my parents and get their blessing. Back at home, Erich and I talked excitedly about all we could do with the house and why it was so right for us. But we knew not to get ahead of ourselves--NOTHING was written in stone. That's when I realized that deciding to buy a house is a lot like finding out you're pregnant.
Knowing this is the house you want to live in as as much like homeownership as two little lines on a pregnancy test is like a baby. One leads to another, but they aren't really anything alike.
Putting in an offer is making your first prenatal appointment. You want a response on the offer, and you want to hang onto the baby long enough to make it to that appointment. Getting a counteroffer is not having spotting or significant cramping in the first few weeks. Getting acceptance of the contract from the seller is seeing the heartbeat for the first time.
Getting a mortgage is making it to the second trimester. Closing is making it to the third. Moving is giving birth. (Not looking forward to that part!) And then that's it, right? Nope, homeownership is parenthood. And then I can't really continue the analogy, but there you have it.
I'm excited to be just about to the "second trimester" on the road to homeownership. Now if only I can ever make it to the second trimester of pregnancy, I'd be even happier to have passed the major hurdles!
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Psalm 113:9
I've taken to reading Psalms at bedtime. I like to read in bed, and that is when I do most of my book-reading, but sometimes an action-packed novel or weighty non-fiction gets to be too much stimulation for my brain, which needs to wind down and rest. The Psalms are generally short and easy to read, and I have the added advantage of getting to know my Psalms better, which is useful for me as a church musician.
The other night, my final reading was Psalm 113. The final verse, verse 9, reads:
"He gives the barren woman a home,
making her the joyous mother of children.
Praise the Lord!"
I could not have found a more comforting verse on which to meditate if I had been searching for it. Praise the Lord!
The other night, my final reading was Psalm 113. The final verse, verse 9, reads:
"He gives the barren woman a home,
making her the joyous mother of children.
Praise the Lord!"
I could not have found a more comforting verse on which to meditate if I had been searching for it. Praise the Lord!
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