The TEST

Before I begin this blog post, I would like to state that I am NOT a Christian Blogger. I am a blogger who happens to be a Christian. I did not start this blog to witness to the lost, or to pour out my spiritual beliefs onto unsuspecting readers who thought they were going to read about a fat girl on a diet. That being said, this post is going to deal with my faith in Jesus Christ a LOT, and for good reason. My hope is that no matter what you believe about God, the universe and spiritual things, that you will read this post through to the end- if for no other reason than you want to know what I am dealing with. It is with great humility as a believer that I share this story with you. I am not trying to minister or witness in any manner. This is simply an important story about who I am that needs to be told. Thank you for reading this post.

Wednesday evening I took note that Mother Nature was running very behind schedule. Since I track all of this with my Iphone app “Period Tracker,” I am more on top of my bodily issues than ever. Feeling rather hopeful, I took a pregnancy test about 11pm. It was negative, so I threw it away and went to bed.

To some of you who know my story, this may seem foolish. My tubes have been tied now for over 8 years. For those of you who are new readers, this was not a choice I made for myself. I actually canceled the surgery twice, but my now ex thought it was what I had to do. I was forced into this surgery, being held captive with the threats of not being allowed to see my family anymore. It devastated me 8 years ago, just as much as it devastates me now. And since Matt and I got together, I have prayed and prayed that the surgery would miraculously reverse itself, my fallopian tubes would grow back together, and I would be able to have a child without having surgery to reverse it. And even though Matt and I have taken steps toward having the reversal surgery in the near future, I prayed with all my heart that God would heal me for a decision I did not make for myself.

On Thursday morning, I got the kids off to school, got Matt off to work, and began to get ready for my day. Even though I have been fighting a sinus infection, I knew I wanted to go to water aerobics and work out. So I got my swim suit and towels packed, which were in the bathroom. And while I was in the bathroom, I noticed my forgotten negative pregnancy test in the trash can.

Only it didn’t say negative. It said positive.

The ONLY reason I even looked at it again was because when I was pregnant with Natalie (the 9 year old) I had issues with home pregnancy tests. They kept saying negative. Until 3 or 4 hours later, and then would turn positive. Having this experience, I realized something. I could really be pregnant! This is it! It was starting to look like God had FINALLY answered my prayers!

I got on the phone and called Matt. And knowing that this could be a fluke, I worded the conversation very carefully. “I can’t say that this is for real, but my test turned positive. It says that I am pregnant.”

Of course, he was delighted, but it was a guarded happiness. We both have thought I might be pregnant in the past (random symptoms, late periods), only to find out shortly afterwords with a test that I wasn’t pregnant at all.

But seeing that positive sign on my stick o’ pee, well, it filled my heart with such incredible praise for God that my joy was uncontainable!

I called Julia at work, because she is a prayer warrior and prays for me all the time. (She’s been my best friend for 20 years. She knows I need prayer constantly!) As I shared with her about the positive test, we marveled at the power God has over our lives. I was filled with such fiery faith that I could do so little but repeat over and over, “I knew it! Everyone thought I was crazy for thinking that I could get pregnant, but God heard my prayers and saw my faith! I never stopped believing, and look!”

I made a few other calls to my circle of friends, and then headed out to water aerobics. I am pretty sure that the folks who saw me there were aware of the glow I had. I couldn’t stop smiling, and felt this amazing confidence in who God is rising up in me.

All in all, it was the best morning of being pregnant I have ever had.

I went to help Margaret the Saint at school for a few hours, and was still glowing. But as I was getting ready to leave, I made a pit stop at the bathroom.

And I noticed I was spotting.

Quickly I assured myself “This is implantation bleeding!” Racing home, I discovered that it was not implantation bleeding. It was normal monthly bleeding.

I was NOT pregnant.

I didn’t have time to fall to pieces, because the kids were almost home. I kept asking God to make it stop, don’t let me lose this! In all the months before, we had NEVER had a positive test. And I was sure that God was rewarding me for never thinking it was impossible. I never gave up hope that He would heal me, so surely He finally had.

But the bleeding continued, and pretty soon there was no denying that there would be no baby. Not this month. And I left Matt a voicemail stating that. To say that it broke my heart would be an understatement. It crushed me. I wanted to fall into pieces and cry and scream. But there were still 3 children to tend too, so I had to hold broken self together and get snack, help with homework, and be the kind of Mom who shows grace under fire.

Matt came home, and we were both pretty quiet. He fixed dinner for the kids, and I zoned out for a while. The kids had to go to VBS, and I needed some time to cry. So I offered to take them. I do all my best crying out to Jesus alone in the car. I dropped them off at church, went to Kmart and walked around for a while waiting for the dam to break, but tears wouldn’t come. I went home and immersed myself in my Bible. Normally, I go to the Psalms when I am hurting this badly. But this time, I went to 2 Timothy. And this is what I read from chapter 1.

“4 Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. 5 I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also. 6 For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. 7 For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. ---
12 That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.”

So the question was this: Was it wrong for me to be so upset (and angry) with God at that moment? Because I was. I was angry. I was mad because we had a positive test that turned out to be negative. We were so close, and yet discovered that we were just as far away as we were last month.

Pretty soon, the time came to go back to church and pick up the kids. And I got in the van and turned on my ipod. And I heard a song I had written a few months back. It’s a song called “Hannah’s Heart.” I wrote it about my frustration with my infertility. But I had no idea how prophetic that song would become. Listen….

After hearing the first verse, I became a puddle of tears. I began to cry like I wanted to cry when Gma had died, but couldn’t. I poured out my sorrows vicariously through that song.

Was this experience emotionally devastating for me? YES. A hundred times over, YES.

But will it make me any less hopeful? NO. A million times over, NO.

And here’s why. If I had given up on the diet every time I experienced a setback, I would still be 237 pounds. Probably more. Instead, I used that hurt of my failure to push me towards success. And when the pounds eventually started falling off, the success tasted even sweeter because I had tasted the bitterness of failure.

If Jesus stopped loving me the first time I sinned, I would have been given over to my evil nature the afternoon after I was baptized as a believer. But He constantly picked me up, brushed me off, and cleansed me again and again.

I don’t doubt that I will become pregnant. Not for one second. In fact, this has done nothing but bolster my belief that it IS possible. Just not today. God chose for today to let me go through this experience of tasting the bitterness. And I know that when it does happen, (and it will) we will be all the more blessed because here on earth, every sign pointed to its improbability. Therefore it could only be by the scarred hands of my Savior that it could come to pass. And it will be even more of a miracle. And that will be my testimony. How it looked impossible, but HE did it anyway.

I know some of you are dealing with infertility too. Or maybe you are desperately trying to lose weight and beginning to feel like it’s impossible.

It’s not. It feels that way, I know. But there is nothing we can’t do when we call upon the Name of the Lord and let our hearts dwell in His house. We are more than conquerors. We are given the keys to the Kingdom. We are rewarded for our faith. Especially when we are faced with the mountains of impossibility and we believe anyway.

I hope that the story of what I went through this past couple of days encourages you. While it still hurts my heart, I know this was a life lesson God didn’t want me to miss.

For those of you who aren’t believers, I know this all sounds crazy. But I have been through far too much with Him to think that life should ever be ordinary.

Please, don’t give up on yourself or your journey. Seek the extraordinary. Attempt the impossible. Look deep within yourself and keep trying to win over your struggles and the things that seem impossible. And when you get to the deepest part of you that you never knew was there, I pray that He meets you there- showing He was fighting right alongside you the entire time.