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Last night I put G to bed and J was busy in his office. I sat down and caught up on all my email and blog reading. I checked off a couple of things on my to do list. I reviewed the coming week and made some more items on the to do list. Then it was quiet. There were things I could do but I didn't really feel like doing them. I have lots of scrapbook projects on my list but I wasn't feeling particularly crafty. So, rather than sit and contemplate life, I decided to clean and reorganize my office. Organizing has always been something of a therapy for me. I needed that last night.

When I organize something I have complete control over where it goes and how it's stored. I guess I have this "thing" about being in control although I wouldn't necessarily characterize myself as a control freak. But I am probably about two steps away from it. I try not to be an obnoxious one at least.

Over the last week I've come to realize that what I'm currently dealing with is a case of depression. I've had bouts of depression all my life off and on. Never really bad and always something I got through by myself. I don't know how long I've really been in this round of it but here I am. All this stuff with my parents and my fertility has left me decidedly out of control. Which makes me nervous and stressed. And, apparantly, depressed.

I'm not really ashamed about admitting that. I know that it's just a hormonal imbalance that will correct itself in time. I do wonder what impact it will have on trying to get pregnant again.

Regarding my fertility problems, I've ridden the entire wave of emotions this week. Monday after the diagnosis I was actually pretty upbeat and excited. I finally had an answer and I had scientific proof that my baby is a true miracle. As the week wore on, I realized that the treatment is going to mean more time and waiting. And even though I know it's waiting with a purpose, I am not a patient person.

I also tried this week to start examining my notions of God in light of my diagnosis. I can't say that I have made any great strides on that front. I did go to church this morning but that was mostly because J wanted me to and I do say hate to disappoint him.

But just when I start to feel I'm close to getting an even footing with my faith, I read stories like this. This was not a blog I followed but how can you help not being affected by the stories and events. And it makes me start to question my faith all over again, even though it's not happening to me.

So there you have it. A depressed agnostic. That label scares even me! I'm trying to look forward to what next week's appointment with the specialist holds. In my dreams he says that he can book my corrective surgery for the end of next week and I only have to wait one cycle for healing. In those same dreams my Dad is whole and well and out of the hospital and my Mom has shaken her pneumonia and whatever bacterial infection it is that she has. And I don't have to make an emergency trip to Houston and miss my appointments.

It seems that no matter how hard life batters you, you can never stop dreaming.