finding reason to be excited

Well, it has finally happened. Seriously. No more TTC roller coaster and overanalyzing every little "new feeling", hoping that finally we had something "stick".

We are pregnant.

I remember when we started this journey and girls would lament either in person or on my online support boards about how hard it was for them when they were TTC'ing. The ups and downs of just wanting to know.

They had been trying for  less than six months. HA. Six months? I'll take that and raise you 22 months.

Your move.

Since it took us longer than we had thought, it was incredibly surreal for me. when we got the call from the specialist. I felt guilty that I was pregnnat.  The kind of guilt that takes away the joy from something that should be joyful. And something that you and your hubby have spent hours and unspeakable amounts of money on. I felt that I was not worthy.

Well, hell, if I'm not worthy, who is?

With my first pregnancy, I was embarassed. I felt that I had no choice but to "hide" it. I was newly divorced and was a practicing Catholic. Things like unplanned pregnancies do not happen to the "good" people. Those were dark and unexplainable painful moments for me, five years back. I hated that child. God, I hated that child. Here I was, finally able to move on with my life and start a new chapter, that was all about ME. And then, this pregnancy happens? Excuse me?! I needed someone to blame. And the most innocent person in my life, was the target. Please, realize, that today, it kills me that I am admitting my hatred toward my child, in the beggining of his pregnancy. He was the innocent one, the one who did nothing wrong. I knew that, deep down. But, I was so pissed that I was having to "go through this".

I had to visibly carry the mark of pain. I did not feel blessed. I did not feel joy. I did not feel chosen by God.  I went aimlessly through majority of that pregnancy, going through the motions. I mentally have blocked out all doctor's appointment, ultra sounds, etc. It was easier for me to "keep moving", if I didn't allow myself the time to process what was going on.  However, it is when you bury pain and hurt, that it comes back when you least expect it.

It came back late May-through June for me.

I knew that I should have been excited about the pregnancy. I mean, this was what Aaron and I had wanted for so damn long. However you throw in some PCOS and other issues, and you're looking at a long road. It was not easy nor cheap for us. So, you would think I would have been on top of a MOUNTAIN singing and dancing like Goldilocks. And maybe it was the fact that IVF is such a timed and precise process, that it became almost anti-climatic for me. And then, when I should have been glowing with pride over my growing child, I was mentally back in September 2008. I truly felt that if I were to be excited over this pregnancy, then I was somehow cheating something from Colton.  It would only be fair to treat this pregnnacy as I did with Colton. With pain and quietness.

Seeing is believing. Last Monday, Aaron and I went to visit Colton and his family, while on our MHK to KC vacation. Between the random Kansas State football chants and push ups and throwing any kind of ball in their living room to either his Dad or Aaron, I found my peace. I never have ever second guessed my decison for adoption nor the parents I chose.  For some odd reason, on that muggy Kansas night, I found the joy and blessing that I needed, that it was ok to move on from that pregnancy and onto this one.

With full hearts.

7.22.13

Connecting Charles Ingalls to Aaron Leiker

For my regular readers, you know that "Little House on the Prairie" was a staple in the Bergkamp household growing up. I remember one specific episode, early in the series.

Charles had a stellar wheat crop. So stellar that he was making plans on how to spend the extra money that was destined to come in at harvest. He was going to extend their kitchen and the girls who were anxious to purchase the cloth for new dresses.  Flash to that night and a wicked hail storm blows through the area. Caroline is waiting up for him to get back in from the rain and thunder. Just remembering this scene, brings tears. When he gets into the house, he tries to make small talk about how it's really come down out there.  Then he admits

"It's gone. The wheat's gone."

Grant it, it wasn't THAT dramatic, coming to the realization that thanks to our drought and powerful winds, that our wheat, too, is gone. It's been a rough several months for anyone who has ground or livestock in SE Colorado. The days that we are told by our "college educated idiot meteorologists" to prepare for heavy snow or rain, always ended with us staring at the skies wondering "Where the hell is it?".  94% of the time, it ended up in central Kansas. We'd read facebook statuses of people complaining about "the horrible snow", etc and fummed, because we'd give ANYTHING to have a fraction of their "inconsiderate" snow dumpings.  The "good thing" about this drought effect, is that we're not the only ones in this boat. Sadly, that doesn't give us discounts on groceries or gives me peace over wanting to trade in our car for a Tahoe.

Oh, the irony in that this is our first year starting the slow process of managing Leiker Farms and there's ain't crap to be had. I know my Daddy's advice that "You'll look back 20 years from now and think "You know, it wasn't that bad," is true. And I know and remember really really tough times for him and Mom, while we were growing up on our farm in central Kansas.

They made it. We will, too, even if it's in our abused dirt road battered car that squeaks when brakes applied, due to God knows how many rocks are lodge under it. These are the tough times that molds young farmers (and wives) to appreciate the years that are bin-busters.  And, it's not like I'm going to starve (thank you chickens) or go naked (thank you, over zealous online shopping self) or go without love (thank you to the kindest 6'4 man I know). 

God will provide for all that we need. 

But, I wonder if he knows that I "need" a sexy Tahoe. Doubting it.

I guess the lasting moment of this post, is  that if you find yourself complaining about the snow or mud (what's that) or rain or that squeaky car with red dirt plastered on the back, "honey hush". 

Because we're making history.

bucking up, Princess

After making it through what had been the worst day of my life (Holy Saturday), I woke up Easter Sunday with a 180 degree positive outlook change.  The thoughts and feelings that literally weighed me down Saturday, evaporated come Sunday morning. I know that is part of my personality (you can ask the hubby or my sisters and family): I blow up and have a massive break down. Then, give me time, and I'll pick myself up again and move on. Our TTC journey has not been any different. And although Aaron's not looking forward to  making a dozen trips to Denver over the next month and a few weeks (because Park Meadows mall is literally half a mile from our doctors office), we both are looking at this next step as possibly the final long haul. 

To whom much is given, much is tested.

If I did not have the husband or the resources that we have been blessed with, there is no way I could have made it this far. And "this far", has been a long, long, draining climb. However, I look at Aaron and I's relationship and I know that this journey has brought us so much closer. I look at couples who never have struggled with this aspect of life, and I know that our bond is stronger. We fight messier and harder, but that is what bonds relationships.  We've had to experience situations and emotional breakdowns that most couples married a year and half, haven't touched on yet. 

I look at the men in my past, and they all would have turned tail and ran the other way. Some did. And I am stronger for that and there's a beautiful family in KS with two boys who benefited from that cowardice.

I don't know what our summer will hold for us (and at this drought rate, summer won't be full of harvest). Selfishly, I pray it is full with excitment and heart burn. But, please, not heart break. Then, I'm reminded of Jesus in the garden: "Not my will, but yours be done".

So, I am taking this next month of reduced meds, to get back to what I loved doing: running. And it has felt so.damn.good. I'm loving my hormone-freed body, complete w/no break outs or bloated bellies.  However, I know that will soon come back around.  And I'll be ready to kick its ass. And we are praying/hoping that it is paid back with tiny steady beautiful heart beats.  And we're givers: we'll take more than one :)

So, here is to every morning being Easter Sunday.

 

on to 21

Holy Week might as well had been coined "Hell Week", in our house growing up.  Like good Catholics, we attended mass Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. For those who are not Catholic, Holy Week servcies/mass last for.e.ver. When we were in college, my sisters and I came home not very much during Easter. I wonder why.

It seems that every major holiday has held some bitterness for Aaron and I on this journey. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving only brought forced family/social times and little heartbreaks, that Aaron and I carried silently. Easter, this year by the will of God, is no exception.

Typing that only brings hot tears. And anger. And biterness. And betryal. And more anger. And a knot in the throat. How am I suppose to praise, devote and be a loyal Christian, when I feel abandoned?  I feel that Aaron and I's desire are ignored. Yet, I still need to "trust in the Lord's plan"?! Excuse me?! I'd be fine with a little trust in whatever is coming "down the pipes", but after 20 months of emotional breaking, I'm losing steam in the "trusting in the plan" bit. 

Yes, I could be paralyzed or have a fatal illness. But, then with that, I would know what the problem is and not mindlessly wondering through injections, blood work, ultra sounds, more blood work, pill poppin', false hopes, etc.

We've made more trips to Denver in the past month, than we had in the past two years living here. And it's only going to increase. I know the journey will be worth it, but for the first time, I am wondering if the ending is what I thought it would be.  I chucked running, per regard of our specialist. However, as of Easter Sunday, I am strapping back on my Asics and hititng the ground again. Because that's the only way I know how to work through stress/anger/pain/hurt/anger. 

"What are you going to do if you can't have more children and here you are, giving up this one?": Haunts me.

I didn't realize the gift that I took for granted.  I see women toting their children around and their growing bellies and I wonder "Do you even realize the hell others have to go through to have that?" Yes, I have been given so much. I understand that and am thankful. I have one kick ass husband who has supported me through this trip.  I have the best social circle of friends this side of the Mississippi. I love my "hick town". 

I just want to share our blessed life with our own children. 


This post is scattered everywhere. And I do not need pity or pious advice. I just needed to type.