Smithereens

CLEARLY, I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS.

I put on my favorite purple sweater and did really good eye make-up so that my victory picture with our doctor would do the annals of Lawson History justice. After we found out we were going to call our families, eat celebratory avocado eggolls at California Pizza Kitchen, drop a few bucks at bareMinerals and buy a onesie for a trophy. We were going to deliver balloons to RE's school so she could celebrate with all her classmates. And then tonight we would buy our tree and I was going to hang the lights and Greg was going to kiss my tummy while RE twirled to Christmas music. It was going to be nothing but merry and bright.

I gave them my vein. We waited on the sofa for an hour and twenty minutes. I saw other couples come in. One was in for egg retrieval. I knew I was two weeks ahead of them and pitied their wait. I knew I was mere minutes from the joy.

He called us in his office and didn't waste a second. "So none of them took.....blah blah blah." I didn't hear the rest of what he said. He kept talking and I kept looking at Greg. We were both paralyzed. "I cannot process what you are saying." The doc said that was okay and to call when I am ready to talk or if I need antidepressants. What? I gave him a hug, hugged the embryologist, hugged the nurses, hugged the lady that does the billing. They were all so sweet.

This cannot be happening.

Greg had to drop off some parts at the store in Orem so I just sat in his parked truck facing the mall. I stared at the two cement horses in front of P.F. Chang's the entire time I bawled to my dad on my cell. He told me that this is the same week they lost their twins and that Mom just held their dog and looked at their Christmas tree until she got through it. It made me think about Elder Holland's line, "Sometimes the only way out is through." I cannot fathom losing one's first pregnancy, stillborn twin boys, at almost 7 months and having to birth them. My poor mother. My embryos didn't even grow in me. I don't know why they didn't. The lining was right, the levels were right, my diet was right, I did everything to the letter of the law. Why can't I grow anything?

Cousin S sent an inspired message. She said Please don't lose faith. You may not yet have reached the water's edge of the Red Sea where God's miracle is prepared to take place. I love her. I know the Lord will help me figure out how to get to the water's edge.

Half a Thai wrap at Paradise and finally a cookie. I haven't had sugar or chocolate in so long that the cookie made my tummy hurt and the wrap just tasted like sadness. Greg said we should go buy something. I don't want anything. Oh, but we needed stamps. So I bought some stamps from the self-serve kiosk while Kenon gave me a great bit of advice on my cell.

Home. Crawled on top of our bed and cried ourselves to sleep with arms entwined and puppy right next to us. My skull hurts from crying. I have never cried this much. I want Greg's arms around me forever. When we wake up I say, "I feel like Dan Marino. You know, I can't win the Superbowl." Greg corrects me, "You mean like John Elway. He played in four Superbowls until he won. We will do this." Somehow it always goes back to the Broncos with that boy.

The angels start arriving. Baskets and treats and flowers and dinner offers. It's too much. I have already been given this kind of love after the miscarriage. I don't want to be "that girl" that always gets the "sorry you don't have a baby" tokens. I don't know how to thank people. I don't know how to be the recipient President Uchtdorf said I should be in the devotional last night.

Picked RE up. She didn't believe us. When she realized we weren't kidding she started sobbing. This was the worst part for me.

Stopped at Deseret Book to buy something and they gave Greg a free piece of banana cream pie. He seemed happy about it. I hate pie. Luckily I came home to a caramel bar on the porch from my sister Cristall. It's the only Christmas treat my mom made that I like. The others all had coconut or nuts in them. I think the caramel bar glued my heart together a little.

Family Home Evening. Greg gave a really good lesson about accepting the Lord's will and then we told RE she was more of a miracle then we ever knew. Teary family hugs, good spirit at home. RE plinked out two carols on the piano for us to sing to. I thought about George Bailey, of all things, and how wonderful the scene in our living room would look to someone watching through the window. Puppies know when you're sad, so Lucy acted like a mountain goat on meth and jumped all over the living room cracking us up. We needed some comic relief.

Bought the prettiest Frasier fir at the lot and fit it in the stand, but it needs to fall through the night. Tomorrow will reveal its real shape and then I can figure out where to trim it.

I think I will keep falling through the night, too, and see what kind of shape tomorrow brings.

The only things I know at this moment are that I still love the Lord, He still loves me, and this would have worked if it were the right time. I know that the Lord will bind my broken heart and hold it together until it is healed. I have had a prayer in that broken heart all day begging to be shielded and protected from bitterness, withdrawl and murmuring.

I know that Greg and I will get through this, even if he cried today for maybe the 5th time in our marriage. I know that this would have stung more deeply if we hadn't come home to a puppy we love and a daughter that is already our sun, moon and stars. There is still beauty in these ashes. The fiery furnace seems to need me a bit longer until I'm strong enough. Forged steel is a rough recipe. 

I saw this pair of earrings in the overpriced Sundance catalog that has a tree engraved on the front and the phrase GROW STRONG on the back.

Maybe I can GROW STRONGer. Maybe that is all that can grow inside of me right now.

"We always think of failure as the antithesis of success, but it isn't. Success often lies just the other side of failure." -Leo F. Buscaglia