Sunday, February 26, 2006

When God Speaks

It's past time for bed but I'm totally wired. For some reason when I get sick, I just can't stomach water or anything non-carbonated. So I actually drank 2 Cokes today. Me. Who drinks about 2 cokes a year! Caffeine, sugar laden cokes. I can't believe I did that.

Since passing the sac today I haven't passed anymore big clots. It rather surprises me; I thought that having a miscarriage would be painful with lots of cramping and bleeding. I didn't know that something so important could just slip out of your body with little more than a bit of spotting. Scary. And you think I'll make it through another pregnancy with normal blood pressure. I'll probably take to my bed and keep my legs propped up and tightly closed for the whole nine months. Hell, I may even get one of those contraptions that suspends you upside down on your head.

Damn. There I go being all hopeful and optimistic again. I have absolutely no will-power or self control. Shoot, I let myself drink 2 cans of liquid sugar today; what's to stop me from conquering the world if I so desire.

I feel like I should be grieving a little more. That I should be sitting here crying my eyes out. That maybe I should be a little more angry at God. But all I can conjure up is thoughts on whether the OB will want me to wait one cycle or three and when she'll want to schedule the HSG and whether I should go ahead and try Clomid that cycle or not. Maybe I'm trying to drown the grief with a bunch of head noise. Maybe I've stretched the grief out over a week since I started spotting last Saturday.

I started this blog to see if I could reconcile my feelings about God. Some days I really have no desire to delve into my feelings on that subject anymore. Some days I feel like I've put God in a neat little box, tied it up, and stuck it on the shelf till I'm ready to take it down again. Then other days.....

One night last week when I was crying myself to sleep, I railed at God. I truly did not mean to "pray" to him. It just came out of me. "How can you be so cruel as to give me a hope of another pregnancy and a chance at another life just to take it away"????

How do you know when God speaks to you? All my life in the Southern Baptist tradition, the preachers would tell you to listen for the "still small voice". As a child I always wondered how the adults knew it was God speaking to them and not them speaking to themselves. That night, as I cried out looking for answers, this phrase came to me. I don't know where it came from. I just know that it was in my mind, fully formed, before I could think about it.

Because I have something better for you.

My subconscious could very easily have implanted this thought in my brain. After all, it is exactly what I wanted to hear. Comforting words of encouragement that someday I'll hold another real live baby of my own in my arms.

Or maybe God spoke.

Of course, if it was God speaking, I have a thousand more questions to be answered. Chief among them are to make sure that God knows that the "something better" should be a healthy child of either sex with a good disposition and good sleep patterns like his or her older sister. Smart and cute would be desirable qualities but I don't want to seem too ungrateful or picky. I am not praying, but did you get all that God?

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