A letter to myself

Dear Holly

About 5 months ago you were preparing yourself for a trip to Cuba. Worrying about new bathing suits, flip flops and SPF. You were hoping this trip would help ease the difficulty of that incredibly long, hard Saskatchewan winter, and give a nice distraction from your longing for a baby. Off you went with your beloved Devin to the beaches of Cuba where you snorkeled and swam and ate weird food. You were very tired, and not feeling all that great, and a tad bit emotional. You were a bit surprised that Cuba maybe wasn't as great as you thought it would be. You even marched stubbornly out of one of the evening shows put on by your resort because you were appalled at the lack of clothing the dancers were wearing, and wondering how in the world was this type of show acceptable for children?! You may have been a tad bit irrational that evening. You were ready to go back to winter after 7 days of sun and sand.  Although you weren't totally consumed by it, you (as always) were thinking of your cycles and temperatures and charts. You were anxiously awaiting the moment where you could test to see if "this is the month", just in case. Though you were anxious, you were unfortunately not all that hopeful. You had "been there, done that" month after month; but it didn't stop you from wanting to test once more.

So you arrive back in Canada. Tanned, burnt, and exhausted. But before leaving Saskatoon, Devin stops at Wal-Mart so you can buy a 2-pack pregnancy test. Cuban resorts didn't think that was a priority item to sell in their gift shops! You get home incredibly late and go straight to bed.  The next morning you wake early, and you don't want to waste an "opportunity" so you tested. I'm still not sure what you did, but the test didn't work. No positive or negative showed up. How disappointing! You head back to bed for a few hours and then when you wake again you hold your bladder as long as possible until Devin awoke. Sometime around 10:30 or 11 am, Devin was awake, and you had to go now, so you tested again...and this time, there were lines. The test worked this time, but wait, it had TWO lines. That meant positive. That meant a baby. That meant a miracle! Let the celebrations begin!

Holly, the reason I'm writing this letter to you, is to gently remind you that a miracle has happened, and is still happening inside of your womb every single day as your darling little one is growing. I want to remind you that there was a time when you had to plead and pray and claw at hope from day to day because the wait was becoming long and worrisome. I want to also remind you of the faith it took to believe that God does love you SO much, even though He didn't give you that baby the moment you desired to be a mother.  I want to remind you of how painful and vulnerable infertility is, and to remind you of the women and couples that are still facing this challenge. Who have not seen the end of their wait yet.  Please continue to be sensitive to those who physically hurt every time a friend or family member announces they are expecting...even when they want to be happy for them. I want to remind you of the trust it took to believe that God had a great plan for your future, even when you couldn't see it, and that same trust will be necessary in so many other circumstances in the future...so hold onto it!

I want to remind you that the "dry season" you have just gotten through in your life will not be the last one, and you need to hold on to the lessons you learned during that time, and thank God for opening your eyes.

Homesick

I have been living in Saskatchewan for just over 4 years. I recently found a journal of my first summer here. I was newly married, newly graduated from the University of Ottawa, and more miserable than I would care to admit. I was (and obviously still am) head over heels in love with my amazing new husband, and so happy to be with him after almost a year apart while I was in Ottawa and he was in RCMP training in Regina. But, silly, nagging homesickness got in my way. I was a coast loving, salty air breathing, Maritimer at heart, and being told by the RCMP we were now going to be residents of Saskatchewan for who knows how long made me literally feel like a fish out of water. Instead of lakes and beaches, we were surrounded by a "sea" of wheat and canola; instead of singing alongside of my guitar-playing husband at church most Sunday mornings, we were attending a quieter non-instrumental church service; instead of spending holidays and special events with family, it was now just the 2 of us.(Thankfully we made fast friends who took us in as their own family! But I'm talking more about the first summer here when we were brand new). I was making many efforts to "suck it up" and become accustomed to this new life. We have made beautiful friendships that have forever changed my view of what a loving friendship should be. We were invited into family gatherings, Christmas celebrations, Thanksgiving dinners, and just felt totally welcomed by our new friends and church family. And it did make such a difference. The homesick, lonely days came a little farther apart, and I could accept that Gravelbourg really was my home now, even if I was still a bit hesitant about it.

So here I am 4 years later, still missing that East coast. Today I was in tears within the first 10 minutes of waking. I was overwhelmed at the thought of another long day of wandering around the house finding odd jobs to keep my mind busy, or walking the dog a couple of times to pass some time. I'm frustrated that after 4 years I still can't find contentment with my surroundings. I hate being that person who thinks the grass is greener on the other side of the fence (or in my case, country), but the reality is I often find myself dreaming of living in Prince Edward Island, or Nova Scotia (of course), and I let myself believe I would feel more at home there. The good girl in me feels immense guilt for my discontentment, and I automatically shame myself for not being grateful for what I do have. It's really a vicious cycle. I feel sad because I feel homesick, but then I feel sad because I'm guilty for being discontent, and then I feel frustrated because I don't know how to fix my discontentment. Oh yeah, and I'm pregnant, and I'm sure those hormones are really helping me along!

So, this evening, the pup and I went out for a little sunset drive, and as I was driving home, my mind was finally relaxing a bit, and I started thinking of the "little" things that happened today that made it good:

1) My sweet man let me cry on his shoulder, and told me "it's OK" to be sad, and to cry. I didn't say a word to him as to why I was crying, but he took my hand and brought me to the calendar to count down the days to when I'd be visiting Nova Scotia in August.

2) A dear friend stopped by with 2 adorable little gifts for baby Roddick that just melted my heart. Her thoughtfulness really touched me.

3) We had delicious homemade pizza for supper, and Devin helped me prepare it.

4) We went for a lovely sunny walk this afternoon, and the air wasn't too hot or humid, it was quite nice.

5) My pup and I went for a little drive this evening and watched an amazing sunset and admired the yellow canola fields. It was beautiful.

So, maybe I'm having another homesick day, and maybe tomorrow will be too, but I'm just so thankful that there are so many good things, people and blessings I can count every day to remind me that the grass is green on both sides of the fence.