The Assumption, Seven Years Later

Seven years ago today, on the Feast of the Assumption of Mary, I underwent my first surgery in St. Louis. I went to Mass the night before, since I wouldn't be able to attend on the feast day, and then asked the priest if he would hear my confession. When I told him about the surgery, Fr. Mike asked me if I also wanted to be anointed (known more commonly as "Last Rights"). I didn't really understand that the sacrament could be used for healing, not just on your deathbed, and kind of freaked out on him and declined. The next morning, Ted drove the three hours to St. Louis at 5:00 in the morning to take the first big step in our struggle with my health and fertility.

My doctor prayed with me before the surgery. Everything went fine, except my oxygen levels were dangerously low for hours and hours after I woke up. I ended up having to stay overnight and felt pretty awful the entire time. Ted and I (not married, or even engaged) were being extra cautious about sharing the hospital room together (as if my disgustingly sick, pale, and puking self was some kind of hot temptation) (plus my mom was in the room) and every time I had to get up to pee on my bedside toilet in the middle of the night we woke him up and made him leave the room. Why in the world we didn't just let him sleep through it, I will never know.

The date for the surgery was set by the doctor and was the only day that worked with both of our schedules. The fact that it fell on a Marian feast day meant so much to me. I knew she was with me and that it was going to be alright. And although my first surgery didn't solve my health or fertility problems, it was a step in the right direction.

Seven years later, I wrestled my two year old and five month old through Mass to celebrate the feast. My first time taking both kids by myself! The priest was ten minutes late, so by the time Mass started Hannah had already given me 15 minutes of good behavior. She was bored. She was jealous of Paul's spot in the sling. And she was hungry (her fault, not mine! eat your breakfast kid.) Despite one time-out due to whining and one super fun trip to organize the chairs in the cry room due to falling off the pew, it went pretty well.

And although most of it was lost on her, we talked about what the Assumption means and how today we celebrate Mary going to heaven to be with Jesus. We talked about other people who are in heaven, St. Therese, Mother Teresa. And we visited Mary's statue after Mass. Paul slept on my chest while Hannah and I sang "Abay, abay, abay Mawia" and blew Mary kisses before I handed her the car keys, her reward for kinda sorta decent behavior.

Then it was home to make pumpkin muffins. Which have nothing to do with the Assumption but are delicious. I'm feeling a little crafty for once in Hannah's life, so I think I'll print off a coloring page of Mary and hang it from the fan in Hannah's room. Not my idea, thanks Alisha.

Happy Feast of the Assumption! And thank you Jesus, for my two beautiful children to share it with.

Guest Post: Faith In All Times

Melissa contacted me about getting the word out about her new website. Here is a guest post she wrote to introduce her efforts in creating an online community for Catholics dealing with infertility.

Thanks Melissa!

When I was 16 yrs. old I was diagnosed with endometriosis, a fertility and auto immune disorder that causes painful periods and in most cases infertility. My diagnosis meant I may never have children or at the very least have a difficult time getting pregnant. When I married my husband we were hopeful God would bless us and that the doctors had been wrong, but we soon found ourselves on the long road of infertility.

I had a wonderful partner in life and love, but like many women dealing with infertility I felt very alone and began seeking community online. I only came across women who were partaking in treatments I didn't morally agree, leaving me longing for a sense of community and support that sadly I never found. 

This lack of community set the desire on my heart to create a place for Catholic women to come together and share their journeys with infertility. I wanted somewhere to share the Church’s teachings on matters of reproductive technologies and to educate and lovingly lead other Catholic women to morally sound options. 

It's taken me awhile to figure out how exactly to foster that community. Together with my husband and other brave women willing to share their stories we've created Faith In All Times. My hope and prayer is to provide community and God's truth about reproductive technologies.

Please take a few minutes to stop by and read the stories our contributors have been brave enough to share. If you or anyone else feels the call to become a contributor please contact me at melissa@faithinalltimes.com

How NFP Got Me Pregnant

In honor of Infertility Awareness Week, I wrote a guest post for my friend Haley at Carrots for Michaelmas  about how NFP and NaPro technology were crucial in our treatment of infertility.

Ok, that's a lie. I had no idea it was Infertility Awareness Week until I saw stuff popping up on facebook. And Haley asked me to write the post months ago. The fact that it went up today is a total coincidence. Or God-incidence? You decide.

It's long. And I promise I was doing my best to be brief! Brevity and me, we've never seen eye to eye.

Either way, check out my post and say an (extra!) prayer for all those struggling to conceive or waiting to adopt. Muchas gracias.

St. Gianna, pray for us!
St. Hannah, pray for us!

Deferring to God

What was that? That faint ache in my left side...... the kind of ache that only an NFPer would even notice. Oh my. Here we go!

I can't even count how many times I've been asked, "When do you think you think you'll have another?" since Hannah's been born. My answer is usually the same. "Well I haven't even had my cycles back since Hannah nurses so much, so we haven't even really thought about it. But we're obviously open to whatever God is calling us to."

But that little ache, that old familiar ache. Is Aunt Flo just around the corner? Am I ready for this?

Pregnancy and the year following it have been blissfully void of the worries of infertility. No need to worry when you're pregnant, obviously. And no need to worry when you can't get pregnant because your sweet, wonderful, beautiful little girl still doesn't sleep through the night and is only lulled back to sleep by your mammary glands.

The past two years have been wonderful.

But if by chance they are coming to an end...I have mental and spiritual preparation to do.

I totally get those people who say they are content with only one child. Hannah is perfect. Amazing. We stand in awe and disbelief every single day over the blessing she is to our lives. There are times I think, "I don't even need any more children-she's more than I ever imagined she could be." And there are just as many times I think, "Lord please let me do it all over again!" Times I feel a little rumble in my lower abdomen and am taken back to that magical place of time standing still while you sit and just hold your hand to your belly...until I realize it's just gas. Times I read a birth story and beg God to let me experience the birth of another baby. Times I get teary-eyed at the thought of Hannah never having a sibling.

It's no secret-I want another baby. I want lots of them.

Now?

Maybe.

For once in my life-I'm really, really happy that God is in control of my fertility.

What a huge decision-when to bring another immortal soul into being and alter your family for eternity. I simply do not want that kind of responsibility. Who would? All those things that so many people take into account when making this decision.

Do we have enough money? Not even close according to the world's standards!

Would our children be too far apart/too close in age? Who knows! There are studies and then more studies that contradict what the first studies said. And who cares really?

Can we handle another baby? Um, that whole "If God brings you to it, He'll bring you through it." Yeah-I totally believe that.

Do we have enough space? No. But what a dumb reason to not have another child!

And so on and so on.

And while it's certainly not wrong to ponder those types of questions, what kind of answer would push me to the point of trying to avoid having another baby right now? None.

So I'm taking the easy way out. I'm leaving it up to God!

(At least for now. Don't be surprised when, in just a few short months, I'm blogging about being scared to death of taking care of two children or yelling at God for sending us into the throws of infertility again. It's my blog-I'll be wishy washy if I want to.)

Naming Hannah

Hannah's name was picked out for her nearly six years ago. And it all started with.... Toy Story.

Neither Ted nor I are big movie quoters, but one movie that always seems to find its way into Ted's conversation is Toy Story. It was the end of our freshman year of college. We had just started dating a few weeks earlier. We were hanging out in my dorm room when Ted quoted a line from the movie and asked if I knew what it was from.

"Hannah! Oh Hannah!"

For those of you who aren't up on your Toy Story trivia, Hannah is the little sister of Sid, the mean neighbor of Andy, the owner of Woody the Cowboy. Woody is in Hannah's possession and he is trying to break free. He pretends to be Hannah's mom and calls to her to get her out of the room.

"Mom?"

Ted quoted the line perfectly and I immediately knew which movie it came from. I laughed because his voice sounds exactly like Andy's (and because I was falling head over heels in love with the guy and thought everything he did was adorable...)

Then he said it.

"Hey. when we have a daughter someday we should name her Hannah just so I can use that line from the movie."

When WE have a daughter?? We hadn't even said "I love you" yet and Ted mentioned US having a daughter! It may have just been a slip of the tongue, but I was beaming inside!

That one statement led to us referring to our imaginary future daughter as "Hannah" in the early months of our dating relationship.

A few months later, in the summer of 2005, I read Life Giving Love by Kimberly Hahn. (If you haven't read it-you should!) The book is about the beauty of the Church's teaching on marriage. One chapter touched on the blessing and gift that children are to a marriage and described why it's so important to be open to the life that God wants to give you . She writes:

Consider for a moment the Old Testament account of the reward God gave Hannah, the prophet Samuel's mother (see 1 Sm 1). She not only had a natural desire for a child-mocked as she was by her husband's fruitful second wife-but she also had a supernatural desire to further the kingdom of God. She knew that Israel was suffering under poor leadership, and she was willing to give up her child, should the Lord bless her, for the sake of Israel.

God took her at her word. After many years of prayers, with tears, she heard the Lord speak through the priest Eili that she would have a son. When that son, Samuel, was three years old, she weaned him and then-brought him to live with Eli for the rest of his life. (It's hard to fathom the sacrifice involved here!)

Listen to the acount of Eli's blessing, following the couple's annual visit with Samuel.

Then Eli would bless Elkanah and his wife, and say, "The Lord give you children by this woman for the loan which she lent to the Lord"; so then they would return to their home. And the Lord visited Hannah, and she conceived and bore three sons and two daughters. And the boy Samuel grew in the presence of the Lord.     

1 Samuel 2:20-21 (emphasis mine)

Her reward was give more children! Do we think of children in the same was-as rewards?

And it was as if a lightbulb went off in my head. At this point I knew that I was called to marry Ted and I knew we were going to have a daughter named Hannah. Finally I knew (or thought I knew...) why that was to be her name! I had found a man who was willing to reject the culture of death with me and shun contraception and the materialism of the world. We would be open to the life that God wanted to give us. We would name our first daughter Hannah as a gesture to the belief that children are only and always blessings and gifts and we'd have tons more just like Hannah and Elkanah.

With a big smile on my face I finished the rest of the book that same night. The last chapter deals with infertility. Kimberly also mentions Hannah in this part of the book, since Hannah was barren for so long before she had Eli. It never occurred to me that maybe *that* was why the name Hannah stuck out to us....

Just a few months later in October 2005 I met my first NaPro doctor and discovered I had endometriosis. I knew nothing about it when he told me my diagnosis but sobbed in his office and asked, "Am I going to be able to have children?" I walked back into the waiting room where my boyfriend, Ted, was waiting for me. I couldn't speak. I cried during the entire elevator ride and the walk back to the car. I cried all weekend while we stayed with his family and went to a Cardinal's game and tried not to think about what this would mean for the future of our family.

I can't remember when it hit me exactly. Sometime between October 2005 and October 2009 (when we started seeking medical treatment for infertility). I can't remember if it was during a reading from the book of Samuel at Mass or just a thought in my head as I was driving one day. But sometime during that four year period-I realized why God had put Hannah's name on our heart. And it hurt.

I knew we were going to have problems getting pregnant. A successful surgery to remove the endo in August 2006 did little to calm my fears.

I knew God would make a Hannah out of me.

Years later I sit in our spare bedroom with a changing table and dresser full of pink clothes typing up a blog post while my beautiful daughter sleeps in her cradle.

I prayed for this child and the Lord granted my request. Now I, in turn, give [her] to the Lord...

1 Samuel 2:27-28

 I am unworthy of the gift He has given me. I am forever grateful.

And just because I can't resist..... Hannah, you've got a friend in me ;) 

Letter to Me

A thought crossed through my head this morning. "What would I say if I wrote a letter to myself at this point a year ago?"  My Lenten reflections from 2010 are filled with sorrow and struggle. What would the 2010 Kaitlin want to hear from me now?

As I really thought about it, my answer surprised me.

I wouldn't tell myself not to cry. Tears serve a purpose and they helped to cleanse me in my darkest hour.

I wouldn't tell myself that's it's not that bad. It really, really was that bad.

I wouldn't tell myself that's it's all going to turn out fine. I already knew that in my head. No one telling me, not even myself, that it's going to be fine would have convinced my heart.

I wouldn't tell myself not worry. Although worry doesn't change anything, it showed how strongly I desired to bring a new life into this world. Worrying about not being able to do that was completely justified.

I wouldn't tell myself to enjoy the time alone with my husband. I was already enjoying it to the fullest extent possible.

And I especially wouldn't have told myself to have patience. If I had known then how truly amazing, beautiful, wonderful, life-changing, and remarkable she is I would have had even less patience than the small amount I already had.

I think I would have told myself to "offer it up". Really. It seems like such harsh advice-but it's so critical. I made a small effort to offer up the pain of infertility while in the midst of the struggle. Very, very small. Looking back now, I'm mad and disappointed with myself that I wasted all that suffering.

But only God knows if I have years of suffering and waiting for more ahead of me. And if I do, I hope the future me has nothing to say to the current me. I hope I suffer in closer union with Christ next time around. (But I REALLY hope there isn't a next time around....)

For Pete's Sake

My friend Bonnie has started something beautiful on her blog. She miscarried her first child, Peter Mark, several years ago. Since then, she has felt God calling her to specifically pray for women with fertility issues. I assure you her prayers are powerful. The miracle of her son is proof of it!

It was actually this post of hers that finally pushed me over the edge to start my own blog. I wrote a similar post about supporting those with infertility shortly after I read Bonnie's.

Go HERE to submit a prayer request for yourself or someone you know. Or to just check out the requests of others and pray for those who are struggling with infertility or the loss of a child.

Thanks Bonnie!

The Beginning of Advent

I realize that today is the last day of Advent, as we will celebrate Christmas at 5:00 pm Mass in just a few hours. Even so, I find myself reflecting on Advent's beginning. No, not November 28-just four short weeks ago-but Advent's real beginning-thousands of years ago.

Ted and I read a passage about Advent by Scott Hahn the other night and something dawned on both of us as we read it. I couldn't even tell you the line or phrase that jolted our thoughts, but we both had the same thought at the same time. 

Advent didn't begin with the Annunciation. Mary's "yes" didn't put Advent into play. Advent marks the time from the beginning of history up until the moment Christ took His first breath. The entire world was in "Advent" for thousands of years as they awaited a Savior.

Yes, that may be strikingly obvious to some, but I had never really thought about that. I always thought of Advent as beginning when Jesus was miraculously conceived and ending at His birth in Bethlehem. But Advent is about waiting for our King and the waiting began long before Mary ever walked the earth.

It made us think about the events of history that brought us slowly out of Advent and into the time of redemption. The prophets of the Old Testament telling of the coming of the Messiah. Mary's immaculate birth and life spent preparing herself to be Christ's mother. Her visitation to Elizabeth and the leaping in the womb. The long, arduous walk to Bethlehem. And, of course, the silent and holy night that Mary gave birth to our Lord.

I've reflected often this Advent season on my own Advent, my own waiting period for my baby to be born. I've tried to prepare myself to be a worthy mother for this wonderful child. I've changed my eating habits, exercised more, taken my vitamins, and studied until I couldn't study anymore. In the same way, I've prepared my home for Christmas by decorating a tree, thawing out a turkey, and setting up our Nativity scene. But I've also been preparing my heart. Even if the baby blankets aren't washed and the crib isn't ready, it's my heart that really needs to be prepared for what's about to take place just six weeks from now. And so it is with Advent, it's much more important that my heart be in tune with Christ's than my tree be the prettiest on the block. It's much more important that my thoughts be directed towards thanksgiving for my Savior than my turkey coming out perfectly.

One more thought flowed out of my head when I first realized that Advent didn't really begin Jesus' conception. My Advent, my time of waiting and preparing for my precious baby to be born didn't begin with his conception either. I've been waiting and preparing for this baby long before s/he was ever nestled in my womb. All the months of negative pregnancy tests, the surgeries, the medicine-these were all physical preparations, little Advents, bringing me closer to the birth of my baby.

But it goes back even further than that. If I really reflect on my life up to this point, I realize that my entire life has been a preparation for this little one. Whether conscious or subconscious, deliberate or passive, I have been waiting and preparing to mother this child for 25 years. Ted said that the studying we did in high school in order to get into college, the work we did in college in order to get a good job-all of this was preparation to be parents, whether we meant it to be or not. The years we spent dating, engaged, and married were strengthening the bond between us, preparing us for the difficult moments that surely lie ahead.

I remember the very first time I went to Ted's house the summer after we started dating. He was so excited to show me his collection of fishing rods that he had stored in his dad's garage. He had entered (and won, obviously) a local fishing contest for at least the last five years and the prize was always a fishing pole. He didn't need the poles for himself (he had plenty!) but he saved them and imagined giving them to his kids one day. He was just a kid himself and he was already thinking about his future children.

The time I spent playing sardines in my back yard with the neighbors. Summers spent taking bike trips to get Pepsi slushies and laffy taffy. Ever childhood event and memory will serve to make me a better parent. Hopefully a parent that remembers what it was like to be a kid and encourages my own children to spend the entire day on their bikes and gives them change for Pepsi slushies, even though I know it's incredibly unhealthy.

My Advent is finally about to culminate with the birth of our first child. Hopefully, even the time spent raising this little one will be its own Advent for future siblings still to come.

Thank you Lord, for this season of waiting and preparation for Your Son. Thank you for the miracle of our baby and even for the years of sorrow that we endured as we waited. Thanks for Jesus. And thanks for His mother.


Merry Christmas!

Quick Takes (14)

Yes, yes-I know it's not Friday anymore. I wrote the first four on Friday and the last three on Sunday. Does that count??

-1-

There are times that a blog post is written over and over in my head before I ever get it down on paper (screen??). Other times I sit at the computer with no idea what I'm going to write before I actually start typing. Today is the latter.

-2-

Please pray for my blogger friend's baby. His names is James Fulton and he was born one week ago. He was without a heartbeat for 61 minutes and is now in the NICU. His family could really use your prayers. Read about baby James here.

-3-

I'm really, really proud to be Catholic. And really, really sad that so many people misunderstand that.

-4-

A lady in the grocery store asked me when I was due today. I'm still not used to the fact that I'm visibly pregnant to strangers. We had a lovely conversation about how we're not finding out the gender (she didn't either) and she wished me well. I left the conversation thinking about that visibility and how different it is from infertility.

No one in the grocery store can tell that you're NOT pregnant (and can't get pregnant). No one knows why your eyes are red from crying. No one offers to help carry things for you after you laproscopy. No one strikes up pleasant conversations with you while picking out apples.

But everyone can see pregnancy. Strangers smile and me and look down at my tummy all the time. People ask me when I'm due, offer their congratulations, and even ask if I need help carrying heavy items. It's part of what makes infertility so painful and pregnancy so great. I wish there was a way to even it out a little.... Invisible suffering makes the hurt even worse.

............................................................................................................

-5-

College football is AMAZING when you're at a college in the SEC! It was absolutely not the same in Missouri. If you haven't been here-you can't possibly know what a big, fun, crazy deal it is. Ok, Mississippi-I'll give you that. You're football is fun. But everything else is better in Missouri.

-6-

The temps are going to finally get out of the 90's this week! It's not exactly going to feel like fall (even though it's almost OCTOBER!!!) but I'm grateful. Fall puts me in a good mood. I think God planned the timing of this pregnancy perfectly when he made pumpkins, changing leaves, and cooler weather coincide with the highly emotional and weepy end of the second trimester. Thanks God.

-7-

Are you Catholic? Are you anti-Catholic? Are you curious about Catholics or think we're weird? I really don't even know who is reading this little blog of mine anymore, but if any of those questions apply to you-you need to check out Little Catholic Bubble. Read the archives, subscribe to the new feeds, and learn.

Praying for Friends

In early May the blogs were buzzing with news of miraculous pregnancies. I was going through yet another period and failed cycle. It seemed like  blessings were being poured out to everyone but me. Women who had been trying for 4 years or more found themselves pregnant by the grace of God. Announcement after announcement revealed the power of the Holy Spirit. And I felt alone.

But just a few short weeks later I joined the ranks of women who could announce pregnancies. I became a mommy and life has been so different ever since.

The past few weeks, the blogs have been filled with women who have either received children through adoption or are becoming increasingly close to bring home their adopted child. So many women have wonderful news of birth mothers selflessly giving over their children, due dates drawing near, and holding their precious child in their arms the very day they were told they were going to be parents.

So many times in life it seems that blessings come in packs. And, unfortunately, it seems to be the same for heartache.

In the last week or so five bloggers have dealt with miscarriage. Five amazing, beautiful women who don't deserve this pain. For some it was their first pregnancy. Others have suffered this far too many times. Others have received devastating medical news with the results of their miscarriage. And others are praying that their baby makes it as I type this.

It seems like every day I tell my husband that a dear blogger friend has lost their baby. My growing belly and excitement about my upcoming baby shower are bittersweet.

I'm 14 weeks along. Surprisingly, these sad announcements don't make me scared for own baby (any more than I already am of course). I'm so overwhelmed with sorrow for these women that I honestly can't think about myself, which is rare for this selfish blogger. Tears stream down my face as I fight to get through these posts. It's. just. not. fair.

Life is precious and if miscarriage teaches me nothing else, it teaches me that. God gives and God takes away.

When I've mentioned to friends or written posts about my fears surrounding miscarriage, I've sometimes been dismissed as a "typical worrying pregnant lady". And yes, I realize that ALL pregnant women have at least some fear of loosing the child in their wombs. And while I don't mean to glorify sorrow in any way, there is a fundamental difference from a typical woman fearing miscarriage and a woman who has endured infertility fearing miscarriage. That difference is the gut wrenching, deep in your soul, stomach sinking feeling that if you were to miscarry, you may never have another chance again.

This is not to say that having a baby after miscarriage could EVER replace the baby that you lost. That is absolutely false. But for someone who had to undergo surgeries, ultrasounds, injections, blood work, and countless amounts of pills just to bring that baby into existence-loosing a baby is doubly hard.

Although I don't dwell on miscarriage on a daily basis-it's never far from my mind. And I know that if we loose our little bean, we might never have a chance to have an earthly child. Our conception was a miracle (not that all aren't). And who knows if God would ever bless us with that miracle again.

I'm not writing this post to be morbid. I hope I don't upset any of of the dear women who are currently struggling with this, I'm sure this was a thought they've already realized. I am simply asking anyone who reads this blog to pray for these five women. To be understanding to the pain and heartache that miscarriage creates, especially for someone who had to fight so hard to get pregnant in the first place.

St. Gianna, pray for us.
St. Gerard, pray for us.

Perspective

Perspective is one of those things you can't have until after the fact. Like experience. Or hindsight. I've never had the perspective of a pregnant woman before. I thought it would be different. Specifically, my perspective is that of an infertile pregnant woman and that is entirely different than just a regular ole pregnant lady.

There are some things that this unique perspective has brought me. An increased excitement for the baby in my womb is one thing. And although I know I've never experienced the joys of being pregnant without trying for two years, deep inside me I just know that this is more exciting. Not to downplay the excitement that regular women feel, but there's just something different about going from "I doubt if it will EVER happen" to "praise the Lord there's a baby in my womb!" This is a perspective I really cherish. I thank God for the increased awareness of this gift and the increased excitement of every little milestone because I'm so keenly aware that it could have never been.

Another perspective that I have as a (former) infertile. (eek-still a little scary to write that one knowing I could be back in that category in the blink of an eye) is that of those still waiting. I haven't forgotten the pain, the tears, the worry. It's all so fresh in my mind. Sometimes an incident crosses my mind-seeing my period after a really hopeful cycle, being told by the doctor that my follicles aren't developing-and I burst into tears. It's like I'm actually still sad about all of those things happening. The pain is still so tangible and can bring me to tears in a split second. This isn't a "crying because others are still suffering" kind of cry-that would be too noble of me. It's an "I'm so miserable, this hurts so much" kind of cry. It feels almost as bad as when I cried about it the first time. Although my womb is full of life, my heart is still infertile.

And why should it be any different? After all, I was infertile for two years. I was a pro at that struggle. I've spent every part of our marriage as someone who couldn't get pregnant. We've only known about our pregnancy for 6 weeks. Six weeks compared to two years. I've got some adjusting to do.

My history of infertility has made it nearly impossible to be "care-free" during this pregnancy. And although I don't think any (good) mother can make it through her entire pregnancy without worrying, I'm probably taking it a bit to the extreme. Miscarriage is always in the back of my mind. And although I am celebrating this life with every fiber of my being, I never lose sight of the possibility that my body, which had no idea how to get pregnant, will eventually have no idea how to stay pregnant. As much as I want to be a normal pregnant lady in her tenth week of pregnancy who registers for baby gear and anxiously awaits ultrasounds-I'm just not.

Most of the time, this perspective is a good thing. I lost it once. Just for a bit. And I was very, very upset with myself. Ted and I conceived right after Mother's Day. Mother's Day was so hard for me that we left town and went on vacation for it. I emailed our priest and asked him to include a petition for infertile couples at the Mass. I moped, I struggled, and I prayed. Then comes Father's Day. We were about seven weeks pregnant and had known for three. Ted and I went to Mass that morning with smiles from ear to ear. He was so excited about his first Father's Day. He was excited to be included in those mentioned during the Mass, excited to hear "Happy Father's Day" from his friends. I didn't realize until weeks later that I had completely forgotten about those fathers who don't have their children yet. I didn't email the priest and ask for the same petition to be included. I doubt I even remembered to pray for the husbands of my infertile friends in the excitement of the day. I lost my infertile perspective. I forgot how much it hurt. I don't ever want that to happen again.

My infertile heart was present last night, when I threw a baby shower for one of my best friends. I've never thrown a baby shower before (and don't know how some of you do it when you're still waiting for your own!) but I've been to plenty and fought to get through them. To say they hurt is the understatement of the century. I did volunteer to throw the shower before we got pregnant. I knew it would be hard, but I knew I needed to do it. Thankfully, I didn't have to sit through last night's shower as the only person in the room who couldn't have kids. The conversation revolved around weight gain, cravings, pelvic positioning, and incontinence for most of the evening. And while it didn't hurt to listen to, it was definitely weird. I still didn't feel quite like I "fit in", although the little green olive sized miracle in my womb would say otherwise. And while I welcomed all of the advice (or were they warnings??) I couldn't get these thoughts out of my mind: What would we be talking about right now if I was still infertile? Would they remember to avoid the conversation? Maybe. Would they assume it was ok because we're at a baby shower? Probably. Would I have spent the night in tears as soon as Ted came home? Definitely. And those were thoughts I just couldn't shake.

I've living in two worlds. The scars and wounds and memories of someone who has fought so hard to bring life into this world are so present. And the excitement, joy, and anticipation of the little one I'm just waiting to meet greets me everyday. Will this feeling last forever? What if we go on to have six more kids without any effort at all? What if this is our first and our last? What if we lose this baby and never conceive again? And yes, I realize there is no point in dwelling on any of those possibilities (except the one where I have seven kids perhaps......) but I can't help but be curious as to what our future holds and how infertility will shape it. I really do hope that I never forget how much it hurts. I hope I never lose sight of my strength during that time and my husband's unending support. But it sure would be nice to feel like a normal pregnant woman, especially when I'm at a baby shower.

Post Peak Ping Pong

During the two week wait (the time that you're waiting to find out if you're pregnant for my non IF readers) my mind is like a never ending ping pong game. I'm back and forth between being overly hopeful and overly pessimistic. The conversation inside my head never ever ever shuts up. Not even for a second. Here is a rare, never before seen glimpse into the over analytical, slightly compulsive, baby desiring brain of mine:

Pessimistic Kaitlin will be in Italics. Optimistic Kaitlin will be in non-Italics.

We're definitely pregnant this month. I just know it.

There's no way we're pregnant. It's not gonna happen this month.

I wonder how I'm going to surprise Ted when I tell him the news.....

I'm never going to be able to give Ted a child.

I can't wait to tell my parents! I have so many ideas for how to tell them!

My sisters will be the only ones who can give them grand kids.

I think I just felt something in the vicinity of my uterus. Could that be a pregnancy symptom??

Man, this gas sucks.

That is DEFINITELY implantation spotting! I'm pregnant-this confirms it.

There is something seriously wrong me-now I have to figure out why I'm spotting in my luteal phase.

I think that was implantation cramping. What cycle day am I on?

I'm sure it was just a cyst rupturing. Wonderful.

Jesus, I trust in You!

God, I am so angry with You right now.


Are you left wondering how I appear sane to my friends and co-workers for even a second? Me too.  Thank God for the pre-peak phase when you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there is no baby in your womb. If I had to deal with this kind of torture all month, I think I'd be in the nut house.

A Possible Explanation

As with all of life's major questions, I'm wondering WHY infertility has to exist. Not so much "why me?" (although I do wonder that as well) but "why at all?" Something dawned on my the other day during my commute and I'm hoping I'll be able to explain my thoughts coherently. Here goes.

Children are gifts. It's as simple (and at the same time ridiculously complex) as that. They are ONLY gifts and they are ALWAYS gifts. No child can ever exist that is not a complete and utter gift from God. As Catholics, we are called to be an example to the world that children are gifts and that human life is precious.

So many Catholic families do a wonderful job providing this example when they welcome children into their homes in large numbers. A family very dear to my heart has nine children (under the age of 12!). They are a living, breathing, in-you-face witness to the fact that children are ALWAYS gifts. No child is unwanted, no child is a burden, no child was created without the hand of God. This family makes people think. They make people uncomfortable. In a world where children are seen as too expensive, too inconvenient, too time consuming, and too much work-this family dares to say, "No they're not!!" They are so pleasing to the Lord because they are spreading His message that children are a gift from Him and should be received with open arms if and when He wants to give them to you.

Another witness to the fact that children are ALWAYS a gift are families of children with special needs. Special needs kiddos have such a "special" place in my heart as a speech-language pathologist. So many families courageously raise children who have the odds stacked against them. They welcome babies into the world despite knowing that they'll have Down's Syndrome or only live for a few hours outside the womb. Children, no matter what kind of problems they may have, are ALWAYS a gift. These families are great witnesses of that.

But even with the great examples of large Catholic familes and parents raising children with special needs, the world is still left wondering why children are ONLY a gift. That's where the infertiles come in. Children are ONLY a gift, meaning they cannot be purchased, demanded, or earned. If God does not wish to bestow this gift upon you, you will not be blessed with the gift of a child. On the flip side of the contraceptive/abortion culture that says children are something to be done away with are those who view children as a right. Both are seriously misguided. Children should not be created in a lab. They shouldn't grow in the tummies of surrogate women who are not their mothers. Immoral practices (specifically masturbation for sperm donation) should never be done so that a couple can have a child.

Maybe it's my responsibility to witness this to the world. You don't deserve children-you are blessed with them. You can't earn them-they are ONLY a gift. When I stand in the back of Mass on Sunday, surrounded by large families witnessing to the blessing of children, I am making just as strong of a statement. It may not be quite as visible, and a lot of people may miss it (or worse-think I'm part of the contraceptive culture), but it's a statement that needs to be made. And somebody's got to do it. And I'm honored that God has asked me to be that somebody.

This doesn't make my childlessness any easier. I still wish I was called to witness to the fact that children are ALWAYS gifts while I loaded them up into our 15 passenger van instead of witnessing to the fact that they're ONLY gifts while driving away in a car without car seats. But knowing that my infertility can do some good in the world makes it a little more bearable. Children are not to be discarded nor avoided nor deserved. And I have the privilege of witnessing to one part of that claim.

More Thoughts on Hope

I began a conversation with Ted last night with the words, "I need to tell you something before you read it on my blog." (Ha! I promise you we really do have great communication skills) "Yes, that would probably be a good thing," he said. I told him about my feelings towards 'not getting our hopes up' and explained that I NEEDED to let my hopes get up because I didn't have anything else. After we talked about it, he completely agreed and was on board with my new attitude of "hope despite heartache".

The more we talked, the more I realized that I need to be clinging to hope like it's my life support. Like it's the last parachute out of the falling plane. I need to let myself rejoice when a pharmacy miraculously has the drug I need, an insurance claim finally get sorted out, or my bloodwork comes back with great results. Those are are all great victories and deserve their joy and the hope that follows. Then I said to Ted, "why can't we get our hopes up? You would never tell me not to get my love up. Or not to get my faith up."

And that's exactly right-faith, hope, and love are all in the same boat. We all know Corinthians 13. We would never supress feelings of love or the gift of faith because we recognize that these are beautiful wonderful gifts that God wishes to bestow on us. When it comes to hope, though, we hesistate. We don't want to hope too much or get our hopes too high. We fear it might come back to bite us. But we would never say that about faith or love. We can NEVER love to much or have too much faith. So, my deductive reasoning tells me that we can NEVER have too much hope either.

So here's to hope. And lots of it. We can't have too much-so let's ask God for the maximum dosage. Yes, there will be those of us who will never conceive. Those who can never adopt or foster. And I might be in all of those categories. But we don't know that yet-because there is still hope.

Sidenote: I really love my new phrase of "hope despite heartache". I think I need to tape that to my dashboard or bathroom mirror or something. If I didn't already have a blog-I think I would make that my title. But I couldn't diss Mary like that, so my title will have to stay.

Joy in Hope

TCIE is right-there really is joy in hope. I got my hope back today. And even if it only lasts for a day-today was a good day and I'll take it. I owe this return in hope to all of the positive comments on my post from yesterday. So many people were excited by my blood work and starting HCG that it actually got me thinking "maybe this could work". This made me hopeful-which gave me joy.

Sometimes I'm scared to get too hopeful. Ted's been known to say "let's not get our hopes up" and while I completely understand (and sometimes agree) with where he's coming from-I'm this point I'm thinking "getting my hopes up is all I have left!" If I can't hope-what can I do?  It's fun to get excited about the possibility of a trigger shot actually working. It's fun to daydream about the way this dress would look on me if I had a baby bump. And yes, it hurts ten times worse when cycle day one shows up-but maybe it's worth it. A week of heartache for almost a month of hoping. I'll take those odds. If I don't hope-I'll be miserable the entire month instead of just during my period.

Things got accomplished today. I talked with both clinics at least ten times total. I figured out the amount each ultrasound is going to cost (less than we thought!). I put my new ultrasound girl in touch with my old ones in TN. I scheduled the ultrasounds for 7:15 am every day next week. I talked to my doctor about finding me some HCG. Things fell into place. This gives me hope.

I was joyful to my kids today. I haven't been joyful in probably over a month. I laughed with them. I hugged them like crazy. I even stopped by some of the infant rooms to snuggle some of the babies before they went down for their nap. I realize that this could all come crashing down in about 3 and a half weeks-but I don't care about that right now. Right now, I'm taking what I can get. And if I can get hope in ultrasounds and HCG-then I'm taking it.

Uncomfortably Numb

This is not a happy post. If you're feeling down-don't read this. It won't pick you up.  What an awful day. Three major meltdowns (possibly from Clomid??). One at work-I was trying to find a file that was missing and broke into tears. One at home-Ted "took a tone" for a milla-second and I snapped then started bawling. And once during Adoration tonight-tears streamed and streamed while I tried to stay quiet and not disrupt the other people. I can't keep it together.

Lately, I've been very numb to this whole thing. Numb to my cross and numb to the pain. I think it's a defense mechanism. I'm retreating into myself and hoping that the pain will go away as I just wait it out. It's not working. I'm like a robot-especially at work. I'm not joyful to my preschoolers, I'm not making them laugh or acting goofy with them. I'm not mean-but I'm definitely not the therapist they need. I'm walking slower, I'm driving slower, I'm just lethargic. I have no motivation to do anything joyfully. I'm just trying to make it through the day.  When friends ask me how I'm doing, like REALLY ask-the kind of asking that you know means "how are you holding up with your childlessness?" I just pretend like I don't notice what they're talking about and say "fine, how are you?" with a smile. I'm not fine. I'm miserable.

The numbness wore off today and turned into anger and tears. I'm not sure which is worse. Crying is painful but at least I feel something. But tonight at Adoration, this was a new kind of desperation. I couldn't talk to Jesus without being angry. Even mean. I actually said the words "why me?" in my head! Pathetic! I told Him this cross was too heavy, that I didn't want it anymore, that He could take his stupid sweater back because I didn't want it. And then, without even realizing what I was saying (in my head) I actually said the words, "I'm sick of You." I think I meant to say I'm sick of this cross-but I definitely said You. I don't know if I meant it or not. I felt like I meant it. I took it back instantly. I told Him I was sorry. I felt horrible and still do. But I said it. I can't deny that I said it. I would be first in line for confession tomorrow afternoon but our priest is out of town all week (that's what you get for living in Mississippi-no other priests or churches to go to). Am I the only one who can get this mad at God? I don't know how to change it. It's like my mood swings are being taken out on Him personally. I hope he knows how much I want to love Him. I'm not sick of Him, I'm just sick of this cross He's given me. I don't want it anymore. It's too heavy.

My NaPro doctor called me today and we got to talk for over a half hour. That kind of thing usually puts me in a great mood-but today it was just overwhelming. I got the results for the bloodwork I did on P+7 last month (while on 25mg Clomid). They were great! Even better than pre-surgery/medicine. My progesterone rose from 20 to 55 and my estrodial rose from 24 to 40-something. Dr. G was really happy about this and said it was confirmation that my body is responding to the Clomid. He said to go ahead with Mucinex and B6 for this month and he would prescribe an antibiotic if I needed it after that. He also said that he wants me to start doing HCG injections to trigger the follicle to rupture. I still don't know if I even have an egg in my follicle, but that my be impossible to find out since the u/s girl in town doesn't know how to do that. We're gonna try though. I'm going to try to plan another u/s study for all of next week and take the trigger shot when the follicle gets to be 2.0 cm (before Clomid it only got to 1.8). I have a lot of work to do to arrange the u/s and figure out where and how to get the HCG. That new stress might be adding to the intensity of my outbursts today. And the stress of wondering if we're going to be able to pay for all these ultrasounds. It's so much to think about.

I took 50mg of Clomid this month, up from 25 the past three months. I emailed my nurse as soon as I started my period to ask Dr. G how much I should take but never heard back from her so I had to make my own decision. (I found out today she was out because she found out her husband has cancer-please pray for her, she's wonderful!) He said it was probably not a good idea to take 50mg since my body has done well with 25 and that he was concerned it would affect my mucus anymore. Crap. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now-I'm CD 6 already and yesterday was my last dose.

I read about Sew this afternoon and was actually filled with hope rather than jealousy. I don't ever remember hearing about a pregnancy and not being jealous. If it happened for her, it can happen for me right?

Anyone willing to offer me some advice on HCG? I'll take whatever you can give!

The Body of Christ

What a day it's already been! And it's only 11:30! I woke up with a bit of a sore throat and headache and had a hard time concentrating at Mass. After Mass we gathered in the back with our usual group of friends, but for some reason today was harder than usual. Every married couple that we're friends with from our new parish has children. One is pregnant, one just gave birth, and I'm sure there are more announcements to come very soon. We met a new couple too-and of course, they had a beautiful baby girl and didn't look a day older than us. I usually love staying around after Mass and talking with the women and watching the kids play. We're usually the last ones to leave. But today, I just couldn't take it. We left pretty much right away and I held back tears as I got in the car.

Thinking that Mother's Day was going to be next Sunday, I said to Ted (only half joking), "I want to skip Mass next week. Don't you think we should get a special dispensation? I just don't think I'll be able to handle watching all those mothers stand up and get a blessing." And he said, "Just try to be happy for the women who are mothers." "That doesn't help at all," I rudely replied. I was pretty quiet the rest of the ride home.

During lunch I snapped at him several more times and held back tears some more. I don't think I can blame this moodiness on the Clomid-not the right time of my cycle. Darn-there goes my excuse.

I love my friends down here-I really do. They are wonderful, beautiful Catholics and I'm blessed to know each one of them. But that doesn't make it any easier to see them with their pregnant bellies, their beautiful children, and their mini vans. I know they pray for us and want us to have this burden lifted. But they don't understand. How can they? It's something only a fellow infertile can understand.

After lunch I got on the computer to check email and read any updated blogs. The first email I got was from a blogger friend who is also Catholic and trying to get pregnant. She emailed me just to let me know that she was going to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe tomorrow to attend a Mass for the installation of a new relic of St. Gianna. She wanted me to know that she would be praying for ME. Me personally (along with other bloggers). She has never even met me and lives hundreds of miles away. But tomorrow she will be praying for me. She knows the hurt I have inside. She knows how heavy this cross is. And she's praying for me. That brings me such comfort.

Just a moment later I got an instant message from another infertile Catholic who I "met" through blogging. She asked if I would pray for her today. She and her husband just experienced a failed adoption, she started her period today, AND she is scheduled to give a talk about "hope" to other infertile couples at a retreat this afternoon. Ouch. I found out exactly what time she was scheduled to speak and told her I would be praying. Her reply: "The Body of Christ is is amazing!"

She's right. The Body of Christ IS amazing! I don't know a single soul in real life that understands what I'm going through. I have no example of a Catholic couple who is suffering the way we are suffering. No one to talk to who will really "get it". But I have my blog. And my blogger friends. And they get me. The Body of Christ is online! And thank the Lord for it. I don't know where I'd be without these friends that exist only in the internet. I pray for you all daily and know that you are praying for me. I can't thank you enough for just being there-in your blogs-to give me hope and keep me going.

And I got some good news too! I realized that Mother's Day isn't next week-it's May 9th! Ted and I just booked a hotel in New Orleans for that weekend!  We wanted to go next weekend, but everything was already booked. I guess it was Divine Providence that we had to move it. I know there will still be a Mother's Day blessing at the Mass we attend while on our trip-but I just have a feeling it will hurt a little less if I don't know any of the mothers that are standing around me.

NOT Reasons

The following are NOT reasons why we're not pregnant Some of them have actually been suggested to me, but most of them just come from my worrying, complicated, over-analytical head.

It's NOT because of the sins of my past. Or the sins of my present and future for that matter. God is NOT punishing me with infertility because of the sins I've committed against Him (although they are many).

It's NOT because we "aren't ready" to be parents. We're ready. We're more ready than any other couple out there (with the exception of my fellow IF bloggers).

It's NOT because we won't make great parents and God wants to keep us from raising children. I can say with complete confidence that we will make great parents. One of the reasons I married Ted was because I knew he would make the world's greatest dad. I'm not being prideful when I say that any kid would be lucky to have us as parents.

It's NOT because we haven't prayed enough, said the right prayers, asked the right saints, or done enough novenas. While God works miracles and answers prayers, He's NOT waiting for us to get to the right combination of prayers before He blesses us with children.

It's NOT because we haven't worked hard enough to get medical help. While there may be a problem that I never find and a doctor out there that could have "cured" it, there is no way to ever know that. We are doing the absolute best we can with the time, money, and energy we have. God has to got to appreciate that.

It's NOT because I drink a soda or have a beer from time to time. Although I believe diet is important when it comes to fertility, one Pepsi isn't going to make the difference between my follicles producing eggs and staying empty.

It's NOT because we're stressed out about it. It's just not.

It's NOT because we haven't "been on a vacation and relaxed". Unless we take a vacation at the precise time of ovulation, with the right dosage of Clomid, and have sex everyday around Peak day, we're probably not going to get pregnant on vacation. And if we do, it won't be because of the vacation-it'll be because of the sex.

It's NOT because God doesn't love us or want us to be happy. He loves us tremendously. He has shown us that in so many ways. His greatest desire is for us to be happy, however: He wants us to be happy with Him in heaven. Happiness isn't so much a requirement for our life on earth. And since we haven't made it to the foot of His throne, we can only assume that our greatest happiness is yet to come.

And if you're struggling with infertility too, these are NOT reasons why you aren't pregnant as well!

I "Just Know"

I just know. This phrase has been uttered out of my mouth on numerous occasions. There are three different types of situations in which I just know something:

The first: when I present a fact or statistic about any given topic and have no idea how to back it up. I'm notorious known for easily recalling beautiful quotes from saints, minute details of obscure Church teachings, and shocking facts to persuade someone in a heated debate.  "St. Theresa of Avila once said...." "Well you know, the Church's position on infant baptism by a lay person clearly states..." or "This county has the largest per capita abuse rate in the entire state!" But when presented with the question of, "how did you know that?" I can only respond, "I just know." I can't recall who told me, where I read it, or how I know it's true. I just know. It doesn't make for a very convincing argument.

The second: when I have complete conviction and clarity that something will occur. I just knew I would marry Ted. Even before we started dating. I remember girlfriends asking me how I knew he was "the one". Besides the list of reasons why he would make the world's greatest husband, my best answer was simply, "I just know." In another, not-so-exciting example, I just knew we were going to have problems getting pregnant. Again, even before we were married. I had already had a successful surgery to remove endo years earlier and my doctor had NO DOUBT that I wouldn't have any trouble conceiving. That was little comfort. Ted and I started trying to get pregnant before it was really "convenient". He was working a minimum wage job, I was in grad school, and our tiny apartment barely contained the two of us. Nevertheless, we started trying for a baby. Part of the reason it was so easy for me to try despite the circumstances was that I just knew we wouldn't actually get pregnant. There was no logical reason behind it. But I just knew.

The third: this one is a little weird. Let me preface it by saying that I fully understand and support the Church's teaching on "paranormal" activities. I do not read my horoscope or believe in fortune tellers, and I even shy away from Harry Potter because I fear crossing the line on the Church's teaching. I do, however, get the occasional "premonition" (if that's even the right word for it). I've had these gut feelings all my life that tell me when something is going to happen. Silly little things. In grade school I just knew when my name was going to be called on. I could feel it coming. Literally every time I've ever won anything by drawing a name out of a hat (like a 50/50 drawing or door prize) I've known I was going to win. This past New Year's we played a game with our friends that had a cash prize (a whopping $11!) and I just knew I was going to win. Even before we sat down to play the game. I'm hardly ever surprised when I win something. And as much as I've tried to "create" this feeling in hopes of getting the million dollar lottery ticket, it can't be done. When my name is called and I step up to claim my prize, I'll lean over to Ted and say,"I knew I was going to win." He always asks, "how did you know??" And my answer is always the same: I just know!

With all of those instances in my life when I have just known something, wouldn't it only make sense that I'll just know when I'm pregnant? I'm only a few days past peak day, but I told Ted I wasn't pregnant today. "How do you know?" he asked. "If I was, I think I would just know." "That's why they make home pregnancy tests," he said, "because you can't just know!" And I realize that all rational and reasonable thought suggests that I'm being ridiculous. But I really do think I would just know if I was pregnant. I thought I knew, one day last week. I just felt that there was something (someone) inside of me. I felt like my stomach was glowing all day. But the feeling was gone the next day and it hasn't returned. I think I was just getting my hopes up.

I know that everyone reading this is thinking I'm wrong, that there is no way to just know. If there was, there would be no such thing as the "two week wait". But I can't seem to shake the idea from my head. I mean, if there was a newly created soul living inside of my body, wouldn't I know about?? Even if he or she was only the size of a pin point! It seems so strange to me that there could be a baby inside of me RIGHT NOW and I could have no idea. It just boggles my mind.

This concept of just knowing got me thinking about Mary. We celebrated the Feast of the Annunciation just three days ago (the day that the Angel Gabriel announced to Mary she would conceive Jesus). I wonder when she actually became pregnant. Was it at the exact moment she said her now famous words of "be it done unto me according to thy word"? Or did it happen later in the day, week, or even month? Did God have to wait until she was on cycle day 14-15 before sending down His only son? And no matter when Jesus was actually conceived-when did Mary actually know about it? Did she have to endure the same two week wait that we are all faced with? When the angel left, did Mary feel pregnant? Or did she continue about her day waiting to see if anything happened? Something tells me that Mary just knew that Jesus had been conceived in her womb. Surely the Mother of God didn't go about not knowing if God himself was inside of her! Even if it was just for two weeks!

But I guess it doesn't matter whether or not Mary just knew that Jesus was in her womb. I was not immaculately conceived, am not without original sin, nor am I carrying the Son of God (even if I AM pregnant!) I don't suppose God is going to bless me with the same understanding that Mary may have received. I guess I'm going to wait until either the cramps kick in or I miss my period. Just like everyone else.

A Shared Question and a Shared Desire

I think Mother Teresa is reading my blog. I've read a little more in Come Be My Light since my post earlier this morning and was so completely struck by one line that I read. Mother Teresa had the exact same question I did! When writing to the archbishop (who had not yet approved her new order) she writes "does the good God give these desires and not mean them to come true?" You can tell by the way she words this that she obviously thinks the answer is "of course not". Our good God does not give us desires that He doesn't mean to come true. And although that is a very, very difficult concept to swallow, it filled me with hope.

There are many more days when I consider the fact that God will NOT bless us with children than days that I do. But Mother Teresa seems to be telling me otherwise. She seems to be telling me that God does, in fact, grant our desires. How do I wrestle this out in my mind? I'm not sure. I trust this beautiful and holy saint, but I also know that there are many people with my same desire who DO NOT have children. I'm not sure what to do with this. But for a brief moment, when I read those words, I actually believed that God would give us a baby. It felt wonderful. But it's already fading.

Mother Teresa continues with words that I could have written myself, although not as eloquently and not as beautiful. She writes, "It is now well over one year that they [the desires] came, they have increased with every Holy Mass and Holy Communion. I long, I desire to bring to Him many souls-to make each soul love God with a burning love..." Mother Teresa was referring to the poor souls in the slums of Calcutta. She wanted to bring them God and help them develop a love for Him. I desire the same thing, to bring souls to God. And while I don't think I'm being called to move to India, I do think I'm being called to raise children in a Catholic home and teach them to love the Lord with their whole hearts. I desire to have children so that I can bring them to God, to make them love God with a burning love. And would the good God give me these desires and not mean them to come true?