I just spent half my night up pooping. Pooping, pooping, pooping. And I’m up at 5 AM to poop some more. Today is colonoscopy day.
I guess you wouldn’t really call what I’m doing right now pooping. Flushing is probably more appropriate. It’s all just a big woosh. Water butt to the next level. I’m basically peeing out of my a-hole. But enough unpleasantness. I actually have a very nice story to share.
Last month, I got my period again right on schedule. I didn’t have high hopes, but it still hurt. The irony of just having attended a baby shower for 2 people at work literally hours before felt like little knives in the pit of my stomach. I was traveling for work that day, and I managed to hold it together until I got back to my hotel and called Chris. There’s really not much to be said in those moments. He told me he loved me. I cried.
After we got off the phone, I had some rare time to just sit and think. I was sad and a little panicky. I felt like I needed to get control of myself but didn’t really know how. So I did something I haven’t done with any conviction in a long time. I prayed. Hard. I prayed for God to take this burden off of me, to be free of the sadness and anxiety that follows me around every month, for peace. I thanked God for an amazing marriage that is continually strengthened through this challenge. I prayed for a good 20 minutes. After I was finished, I felt very calm and was able to sleep peacefully that night. The next day, I felt like my attitude had changed. I was in a good mood. I had a really positive day at work. Meetings that I had been dreading went very smoothly. Throughout the day, I made a point of thanking God for His peace.
About a week or so later, I got an email from a friend. She had been in roughly the same place as me previously, with her and her husband trying to have a baby. It stressed her out so much and reeked so much havoc on her body that they eventually just gave up. She was probably the one person who truly understood where I was coming from because our experiences were so similar, both physically and emotionally. So when she got pregnant, she wanted me to know. Her email was really amazing. She wanted me to know that she understood if I was angry, frustrated, annoyed, sad, and she wanted me to be honest with her because she knew exactly how it felt to see people around her get pregnant while she struggled. The fact that she would be concerned about me at a time like this was kind of unbelievable. What was even more unbelievable was that I was PUMPED.
Now, Ruth and I have this little joke that we’re always 90/10. That’s 90% happy and 10% sad when something good happens to someone else. (This is not mean. It’s the truth. I think this happens for a lot of people. You are happy to see your friends and family move on in their lives in positive ways, but there’s always that little bit of you that feels left behind.) For about 4 months or so leading up to June, I was more 40/60. It seemed like people were getting pregnant left and right. There was one week when 3 different people told me they were pregnant within 2 days of each other (I ugly cried over that one). I actually kind of felt like I was being attacked. It was awful. So, going from that to being 100% happy for my pregnant friend was basically a miracle. In that moment, I felt God’s faithfulness like never before. He heard me and answered my prayers in a crazy way. He didn’t give me a baby. He gave me my life back.
Since then, I’ve been trying to pray and give thanks daily, even if it’s just for a fleeting minute in between things. I continue to pray for freedom. It’s a constant struggle, and I’m not always successful, but I do not currently feel under attack (aside from what’s going on in my colon right now, but that’s a completely different story!). For now, I’m going with the incredibly cliche mantra of one day at a time. Today, I’m thankful that I’m finally having this test done and praying that all goes well. Later today, I will be thankful to eat just about anything I can get my hands on. Tomorrow or the next day or whenever my period comes, I will try to be thankful that my body is working the way it should. I’ll try to remember that sense of freedom and peace I felt so strongly in giving up complete control, and I’ll pray for my surrender. It’s all I can do.