I was in the middle of a pretty good pity party the other night. Watching Stinky interact with other children can be hard. It brings out a very sweet side of him; he's eager to share and help that other child. So, I feel a little guilty that we can't give that to him yet, and I wish that he had the brother or sister we thought he'd have by now.
So, I found myself reading some of my old journal entries from early in our marriage. When I was diagnosed with the condition that causes pain and also contributes to my fertility problems, my doctor told me he didn't think I'd ever live without pain, but we'd do what we can to make it manageable. At that time, I'd recently quit both jobs I was working and was unable to get off the couch a lot of the time. His prediction worried me constantly. Here I was praying to be a mother, but how could I even think of that when I couldn't move without pain?
At the end of my rope, I asked WBH for a blessing . In it, I was told that this trial was temporary, and that through it, I would help others. Things didn't get better for a long time after that, but I had hope. With the exception of July and August's rough patch, I have been nearly pain free since Stinky was born.
With the promise that my pain was temporary, I was told I would help others- which is why I speak about it pretty openly, and write about it when I feel prompted to, like I do tonight. If for no other reason but to make one passing reader feel less alone, I think that it's important to be open about it. I don't know how often it will be here, but fair warning, you might get more like this.