Chasing hope.

It hurts to have hope.

I feel like I have been on such a roller coaster of emotions lately.  Normally, I'm pretty even-keeled, but life has thrown so many curveballs over the last year or so that I sometimes don't know what to do.

Another dreaded phone call came yesterday.  You'd think that we would be used to these by now, but I still feel like I'm going to be sick every time.  After my surgery a couple of weeks ago, we started to hope again.  Everything on my end was clear.  I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I started imagining how we could tell our families that I was pregnant.  Except that I probably won't be.

"Mrs. Fenrick?  We have the test results from your husband's surgery.  Do you have a pen and some paper so that you can write down some numbers?"

Scribbling madly as I tried to cram lunch down my throat on the way to work, I was only halfway listening.  I was so certain that the odds would be in our favor.  And then the pen dropped, I was looking through blurry eyes at the red traffic light ahead, and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie.  I know that wasn't the news you wanted to hear."

After Andrew's surgery in April, we were told to wait several months to determine whether or not it was successful.  Not only was it not successful, but his condition is actually far worse than it was prior to surgery.  No, not the news we wanted to hear, especially after the miracle on my end. 

IVF is an option...for people who have fat stacks of cash just sitting around (not us).  I'm not sure we would try it even if we did have the money.

What I want more than anything at this point is not even a baby.  I just want peace.  I want it to stop hurting so bad.

A lot of people have asked us how they can help.  That's a tough question to answer, because there isn't a lot that anyone can do.  The most meaningful words are often, "I'm sorry," "That really stinks," "I love you," "I'm praying for you," or, "I don't understand it either."  Thanks for asking us how we're doing, and mostly for just being present in our lives.  Nothing is more lonely and scary than feeling like no one cares.  Thankfully, we have never felt that that is the case.

On the other hand, some words are very difficult to hear.  I am so glad that people have amazing pregnancy stories when doctors told them that their chances of conceiving were impossible.  However, that doesn't happen for everyone, and it may not happen for us.  I do think that one day, our story will have a beautiful ending, but that ending may not be pregnancy.  I don't want to hold onto false hope and wrap my mind around something that may never come to fruition. 

And finally, a quick word on abortion, because it has been heavy on my mind (and we're on the subject of babies).  You had better believe that I am against abortion, as someone who wants a baby.  But I am often not for the approaches taken in opposing it.  On a personal note, I have to say that when unborn children and babies become such a valuable commodity, to the point that all other issues are ignored, it sure does make people who are unable to have children (like us) feel small and insignificant, as if we have nothing to contribute to society.

More importantly, though, there must be other issues that matter aside from abortion.  Life outside the womb must be just as highly esteemed as life within it.  Why don't we do more to care about kids in DHS custody or foster care?  I'm not sure if you've noticed, but that is a pretty messed up system in Oklahoma.  Why don't we value the lives of kids with special needs more?  Why don't we help children, women, and men who are being abused in ways that I can only imagine?  Why don't we look for ways to give to the public school system, where so many children and teens spend their time?  Why don't we care about the story of that woman who is walking through the doors of Planned Parenthood?  These are people, too, and people matter.  Life is valuable in the womb, yes.  But please, let's be just as careful to value and protect the lives of those right next to us.

I could say more, but I'll leave it at that for now.