round 1

Femara again. But twice the dose that I was on 1 year ago, and 2 doctors ago.

I'm anxious.

Next week they'll do another scan, check my follicles, and if all goes well, try IUI.

Did I mention I'm anxious?

It's not that I'm afraid that it won't work. (I mean, I am...) But I'm mostly afraid of how I'll respond if it doesn't work.

I know that with unexplained infertility, the chances of a basic IUI being successful are pretty small. But right now, our finances demand we try it first.

I feel a peace about the decision. I'm anxious about the outcome, but peaceful about the decision.

I'm a total walking contradiction these days. Content one day, desperately lonely the next.

Welcome to my world.

the meaning of hope

I read something interesting today over at the this site. The contributor wrote that her favorite definition for hope reads: to wait for salvation with joy and full confidence.

And for some reason, it really struck a cord with me this morning.

I say the word 'hope' all the time when I'm talking about the weather or my weekend plans, but rarely do I mean it in this context.

It was jarring. There are so many things that I am learning during this journey of heartbreak, and to wait is a big one.

How do I do that? And how do I do that with joy and confidence? I have to admit that most days it's almost impossible to have such a peace about waiting. And I forget that this life is about bringing me closer to my Redeemer.

But then there are other days. Days where I am acutely aware that I have a Saviour who leads me beside still waters and restores my soul. Days where I understand what it means to mourn and to grieve, but where I can still wait with joy and confidence in the One who sustains me.

I don't know which kind of day it will be today.