Monthly Archives: December 2009

Dec31

The Best and Worst of 2009

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The Best and Worst of 2009

OH MY WORD, in just a few hours 2009 is going to be O-VER!  No New Years Resolutions for me this year, just a good, hot shower at midnight to wash every last vestige of 2009 away.

So, it’s weird; when I look back on the year I realize that yes, this is the worst year I can remember and it will probably be the worst one in a long time.  But let’s be honest, the only other rough year I can think of (during our marriage, that is) was probably the last year when we lived in Iowa and I worked with those nasty people who hated me from the moment they snitched a peek at my resume and thought “gosh, I think this one is a Christian” based upon where I went to college (and I know this because they told me). Those two made me cry on a regular basis.

But in perspective, I’ve had a pretty easy life.

So let’s flash back to 2009, month by month.  Come on, it’ll be fun.  Well, it’ll be fun until May, that is.

JANUARY

I noticed that somehow the phrase “picture of a cow’s head stuck under a fence and along comes a bull” was bringing a lot of traffic to my blog.  (I still can’t figure it out.)  So I told Brother, and he drew this picture using Microsoft Paint and that post is now the #1 most-viewed on this blog.  WEIRD.  Also, we got a new shower head.

FEBRUARY

We got new glasses and, fortunately!, Joey did not choose this pair.  I thought I finally saw an armadillo but it turned out to be a skunk. It was a major disappointment for me.

MARCH

The Kid came to visit us for Spring Break.  We had fun.  I quit watching The Office because it wasn’t funny to me anymore.  We went to Branson for a five days with my parents, and after they left Joey and I had crazy adventures. As usual.

APRIL

I flew to Chicago to visit Sister and Stephen over Easter.  Joey and I planted tomatoes and herbs on our balcony and were successful.

MAY

We tried to celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary, which fell on the same day we found our our baby was gone.  (Re-reading these posts to link them here is killing me.) Then I had crazy surgery because there were abnormalities.  Mom came to take care of me for a week, and after she left, Sister came.

JUNE

It drove me crazy to think about our baby as an “it”, so we named him Samuel. I overdid it post-surgery and had painful relapses more often than I should have because I can’t sit still.  I discovered that going to church can be difficult.

JULY

For Independence Day, we jetted home to IOWA! see some fireworks.  I remembered how to smile again.  We went to Mexico and had the absolute best vacation ever.  Being together.  And let us not forget the smacking Iguana from the Tulum ruins, which was a highlight for me of course.

AUGUST

Joey had sinus surgery and he looked fully awesome afterwards.  I had a birthday and I survived.

SEPTEMBER

We tried to go backpacking, but there was no water in any of the creek-beds so we had to turn back; we had a great time at Beavers Bend working Plan B.  Then, Joey decided he wanted to a coffee experiment, which ended with him deciding he liked coffee.

OCTOBER

My awesome friend Michelle handed down their Grind & Brew coffee maker to us, which we named Jeeves.  It’s such a handy machine that has changed our lives in so many ways.  Oh, and we decided to do IVF to treat my infertility.  Um, that was HUGE.

NOVEMBER

I started my first round of medicine for IVF and hated it.  A few days later, we received a ginormous box of IVF injections and began the shots.  Joey is awesome.

DECEMBER

We had ten healthy embryos which we transferred and then..our IVF procedure failed.  Ugh.

I realize that nobody will probably click through those links to read those old posts, but it was really cathartic for me to look back on this year and remember that, YES, there were good times.  We did enjoy parts of it.  (A few parts.)

Happy New Year, Internet!!  May it be so, so much better than 2009.

Dec29

I Love Ordinary

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I Love Ordinary

In the months leading up to Joey’s and my engagement, it was no secret that he was going to ask me to marry him.  Back in those days, I really, really, really hated surprises.  (You think I’m weird now?  I’m way more neurotic about a few things five or six years ago.  True story.)  He knew this about me, because we talked about everything.  We talked for HOURS and HOURS and HOURS.

We still do that.

One evening, we drove out to Jordan Creek and, as we walked past a jewelry store, Joey grabbed my arm and whisked me inside to get my opinion on rings.

I didn’t care so much about the ring.  Honestly, I didn’t.  He could have given me a Cracker Jacks ring and I would have been happyl what I wanted was to marry him.  And (this will sound totally weird to all my Dallas readers) the budget was so tight at the time, because Joey was working to pay for school as he went, that we considered just getting the wedding band first (it was cheaper) and add the “engagement” band at the wedding.  Do it in reverse order.

Like I said before, I didn’t care one bit.  I just wanted to marry Joey and the ring on my left hand was an inconsequential bonus.

Looking back on it we probably could have taken out a loan for the ring, but that’s not the way we roll in this Woestman house.  ANYWAY.

Since we had looked at rings together, and I had tried on just the wedding band by itself to see how it would look, I knew we would be getting engaged soon.  And then, because Joey knew me so well, he told me what day he would ask me.  (That way I wouldn’t freak out.)

He chose the day before Thanksgiving.

He found me while I was at home in my tiny little 275 square foot apartment, that I shared with my dear friend Sarah (hi!), baking Thanksgiving pies.

I pulled the pumpkin pie out of the oven and set it on the counter as he walked in the door and presented me with a long-stemmed, deep red rose.  He recited Elizabeth Barret Browning’s How Do I Love Thee poem.  Then, he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife.

I said yes.

Then I looked at the rose.  On the stem was the solitaire engagement ring we had picked out together.  Not the cheaper wedding band, but the actual engagement ring.  The way normal people got engaged.

I gasped and asked him how in the world he had gotten the money (did he rob a bank?), because just a week before we had looked at the budget and it was not going to be possible.

He just smiled at me and said that God had provided a way.  And He had.

What I love about the way Joey and I got engaged is that it was so ordinary.  No production, no big show…just life.  Together.

Five years ago, we had no idea.  NONE.  We were naive little children and we never would have guessed how our lives would pan out.  But when things get super crazy and I feel like HOLY COW WHAT IS UP WITH OUR LIVES I can look down at my engagement ring and remember that Joey loved me when life was ordinary.  He loved me before he knew there were things wrong with me.  And he loves me when life is cah-ra-zy.

We laugh deeper and we love deeper because of all this…stuff.

And, when I really think about it, my ring is a symbol of God providing for our marriage in a small way – giving Joey means to actually buy me a real ring.  I know he cares about the details.  I know he cares about me.  But golly gee it’s easy to forget sometimes.

That’s why I love my ring.

Dec28

A Milestone

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A Milestone

Joey has just informed me that, according to our health insurance paperwork, I have met my 2010 deductible.

Yep, my 2010 deductible.

Already.

And it isn’t even 2010 for another few days.

Go me.  This is some kind of major achievement.

(Incidentally the 2010 period started on October 1st…but the fact that I’ve reached deductible status within two-ish months is still some kind of major healthcare usage if you ask me.)

Dec28

In Other Words

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In Other Words

Hello, Internet.  Here is a non-gloomy, non-depressing post.

I made it myself.

I’m not even sure what to post about, so I’m just going to start writing and see what happens.  That’s now how I normally do this whole blogging thing, usually the posts are bouncing around in my brain, threatening to seep out my ears if I don’t write them down.  It’s so annoying.  But for the last week or maybe two weeks, there has been a major lack of post-bouncing in my head.

I think my writer is broken.

So.

Here’s what’s new.

Joey and I got up at 5:30 this morning and went to Baylor to work out.  I am bound and determined to work off this year of inactivity (which was mostly caused by doctors and their procedures – and isn’t that kind of weird though, since don’t doctors advocate exercise?) and the havoc it has wreaked on my physique.  Yeah, you read that right.

That’s why at 5:45 we found ourselves shivering in the car and speeding (literally, I think Joey was going 10 over) toward Baylor.

I can’t remember what I was going to say.

Oh yeah, my gym bag is on its last leg.  This is particularly heartbreaking for me because I’ve had this bag since I was in 8th grade.  I’m 27 and I was 12 in eighth grade, so you do the math to figure out how long I’ve had that bag.  Heck, I’ve had the bag longer than I’ve had Joey.  Times…three?

But don’t worry, Joey, I love you more than I love my gym bag.

Anyways, the strap is literally ripping off the bag.  I tried to mend it last night when I was having my mending session while we watched Big Bang Theory, but it did NOT work.

I need to get a new bag this weekend.

Before the strap finishes tearing and all my clothes get strewn about the Baylor parking lot.  That would be embarrassing.

Dec27

It’s Like A Compound Fracture

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It’s Like A Compound Fracture

Joey and I were heading out this afternoon, it’s brisk and cool and a bit icy in spots down here in Texas right now (WEIRD!), and as I shoved my hands deeper in to the pockets of my down vest that I usually never wear, I said, “It feels like…it’s like a compound fracture. You know, the kind where you have, like, bone sticking out of your leg.”

He just raised his eyebrows at me like, OK…I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about but sure…compound fracture.

“No, I mean how I’m feeling right now.”  Obviously, right?

I’m trying to put words on it.  I’ve been unnaturally quiet for about the last four or five days; I just don’t want to talk about It.  I don’t want to talk about any of it.  I just want to push through the holidays, survive our baby’s due date, and get January over with.  So I turn my cell phone off and don’t reply to emails and keep to myself.

It’s working OK.

We made it through Christmas and we managed to have a mostly enjoyable day.

My former due date is looming, though.  And I feel like I could shatter at any minute, and I just have to keep it together.  I’ve cried enough over the last six months, haven’t I?  I’m so over it.

But back to the compound fracture business.  (Yes, yes, I’m circling this plane so I can land it, y’all.)

I feel sequentially broken right now; it’s gross and disgusting and deep, sticking out of my skin and disfiguring.  And the only way to get my nasty compound fracture to heal is to go through more pain to get it set.  Maybe even more intense pain, but I SURE HOPE NOT, INTERNET.  Once it’s set, eventually I’ll have to do physical therapy and whatever.  That will hurt and stretch, but it will be healing, even though it sounds awful.  And eventually, it’ll be whole again.  But never the way it was, and never without a dull ache when the barometric pressure changes, to remind me of what once was.

I’m in the morphine for pain stage right now.  Maybe in a few weeks I’ll be ready to try walking on it.  But oh….not yet.  It still hurts too much.

Dec23

I’m singing

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I’m singing

I haven’t sung since before we started IVF.  That was primarily because we didn’t know what our schedule would be, when we’d have to be at the doctor and stuff, and I didn’t want to have to cancel all the time.

Then, once it became apparent that IVF had failed, singing was the last thing I wanted to do.

The very last.

And so I cancelled my Sunday on the music schedule.

Tomorrow, for our Christmas Eve service, I’m singing and I actually didn’t cancel.

At first it felt weird; being up there, singing about a God I don’t necessarily like very much right now.  On his birthday.  But after awhile, I sang through the scratchies in my throat (let’s face it, I haven’t used them vocal chords in a long time) and I started to enjoy it.  I can’t say I sang every song with understanding on every song, but I sang them.

The hurt is so palpable in our house right now it feels like you have to push it aside to make enough room to sit on the couch.  And it follows us wherever we go.  I’m about two breaths away from crying at all times.  I’ve never carried around a lump in my throat like this before, but it’s there and I can’t get rid of it.  I never know what will set it off, either.

Merry Christmas?

Dec22

Enough

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Enough

Enough 2009.

Enough tears.

Enough hurt.

Enough infertility.

Enough everything.

Enough, already.

Sometimes, I just feel like I’m awake every day for long enough to get cage matched by a professional wrestler.  Then I go to bed, sleep for a few hours, and wake up and do it all over again.  I’m so weary of it all.  Carrying around the weight of grief is really, really exhausting.

Joey and I were talking the other day.  We were talking about The Question that people ask us a lot; the one we really hate.

“So…rough year…what do you think God is trying to teach you?”

We never know what to say.  We don’t know the answer and we’re not sure we want to yet.  But a couple of days ago, Joey said he thought maybe he knew what it was.

God’s trying to teach us that He is enough.

UGH.  What a lesson.  I don’t want to learn that.  I don’t want Him to be enough, I want babies.

See?  I haven’t learned it yet.  That puts the fear of God in me, too, because I’m like, better hurry up and learn your lesson, Jenna, before He does something else nasty to you.

That’s called having an incorrect view of God.  I know in my head that he’s not up there being the professional wrestler in the cage match I feel like I’m losing daily, but I can’t convince my heart.  I’m not sure how you fix that, either.

Somehow, I have to learn to be satisfied with God.

He is enough.

We just got the phone call that my sister is in labor.  Every other person in my family is glittering with excitement, and Joey and I feel like we just got sucker punched.

I don’t understand why she and I had to have the same due date in the first place.  I don’t understand why we couldn’t both get to have our babies.  I don’t understand.  I don’t understand.

But I don’t feel like He is enough right now.  I just don’t.

I wanted to have my baby.

Dec20

Home Alone

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Home Alone

This weekend, being home alone and whatever, I’ve had to do a bunch of stuff I haven’t had to do in a long time.  Observe:

  • I changed the air filter on the furnace all by myself.  This entailed getting at the old one (which is in the vent in the ceiling) without breaking anything, including myself.  I also bought the correct size at Home Depot without any assistance.  I believe this may be my greatest accomplishment.
  • I purchased and carried in firewood.  Normally this isn’t so unusual, it’s just that Joey carries it in.  When I was hefting the bundle of firewood at Central Market, the security guy saw me do it and FREAKED OUT.  He came running and yanked it from my hands saying, “You’ll get splinters doing that.”  Obviously he’s never had to stack wood in a blizzard (Pops’ orders, didn’t want us to run out at the house) or throw hay bales into the hay stall so Pops could stack them to the ceiling–for the cows, of course.  (Although, I’m not sure I could throw hay bales anymore; living in Texas has made me grow soft.)
  • I cleaned out the fireplace.  This is always Joey’s job, but when I was cleaning the house on Friday night the amount of ashes was irritating me, so I figured I could give it a go.  I probably didn’t do as good of a job as he does, but I carted out half a paper sack full of ash.  That’s lots of ash.
  • I have changed two light bulbs, one of which I had to go and purchase from the store because we appear to have run out in our stash.

Ugh.  Now I have to iron which, incidentally, I haven’t done in a long time either.  But that’s only because I have been putting it off, not because it’s usually Joey’s job.

Dec20

Three Days Later

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Three Days Later

All I can think about lately is how my body betrayed us.  HELLO UTERUS, didn’t you get the memo you were supposed to IMPLANT the EMBRYOS because we spent LOTS OF MONEY on this?!

I look at my still-bruised and sore stomach and think what a waste of money those $1,000 shots were.  I still have an unopened box of Menopur sitting behind my dresser, complete with needles and syringes and everything.  I’m not sure what we’ll do with it.

Sometimes I just look up at the sky and think, God?  Are you up there?  It’s me, Jenna, the one you gave the gift of infertility to; remember me?  Because lately it feels like you forgot.  Anyway, remember that IVF thing we thought we were supposed to do?  THE ONE THAT COST US GOOD MONEY!?  Why, why, why did you let it fail?  What is up with that?

Joey and I have had the goal of getting out of seminary debt free.  And we were doing really, really good until about two months ago.  Granted, we don’t have to bear the full cost of IVF, but we’ll have to do at least 10%.  And they’re running tests on some of our embryos and heaven knows how much that will cost.

I hate being a monetary raincloud, but if we wanted to not get pregnant, we could have done that for free just like every other month.  I could have skipped the shots, could have skipped the ultrasounds, could have skipped the nearly daily bloodwork and the fun of having a left arm so bruised I couldn’t even fully extend it.

Julie Powell (of Julie & Julia fame) put a Paypal button on her blog for people to donate to her cooking experiment.  Maybe I should put one up to pay for our failed IVF.

Just kidding.  I’m really not trying to beg for money.

I’m just mad at my body.

I’m mad that we’ll have to spend some of our rainy-day savings to pay for something that didn’t even work.

That’s when I look back up at the clear blue sky and say, GOD!!  We’re getting ready to go into the MINISTRY FOR PETE’S SAKE!  To serve YOU!!!  And you take our savings and leave us barren yet again around Christmas and the due date of the baby we lost.  Can you cut us a break?!

Maybe you read this blog and you’re not a Christian.  Hi.  You’re totally welcome here.  See, up until about two years ago, I thought being a Christian was all nicey-nice with flowers and puppies and nativity scenes and crosses hanging behind the choir loft.  So warm and fuzzy!

But it’s not.

It has taken this emotional roller coaster to make me realize that the nativity scene and the cross represent something many Christians (and people who aren’t Christians) overlook about following Jesus: suffering.

And once I throw that word out there on the Internet I immediately feel hypocritical.  I’m not suffering in the sense that I’m hated and beaten and people are trying to crucify me, but I’m definitely hurting in my heart.  And this kind of hurt, if you’ve never felt it, is deep and intense and I’d say it’s pretty close to suffering.

So what do I do now?

Right now, I’m just a little ticked off at God.  He has hurt my feelings, and I’m OK with admitting that because it’s true.  I am not the kind of Christian who is willing to sit here and tell you that being a follower of Jesus is always my favorite thing.  Sometimes (like right now) I’m not really sure why I do it.  Except that I know it’s true.

And for those of you who aren’t Christians, I’m sure you think I’m nuts.

But the alternative of either believing in nothing, or believing only in myself (which, let’s face it, I suck), sounds more hopeless than trusting a God who has hurt my feelings deeply.

Those of you Christians who have prayed for us over the last few months, thanks.  I don’t understand why the answer was “no”, but it was and it will take us awhile to figure it out.  But I have never felt more supported by fellow Christians, and I’ve never really understood how amazing the church is until now.

And those of you who aren’t Christians and you still prayed?  Thank you; I know that was probably weird for you.  You are amazing and all I can say is that the God to whom you prayed did hear you, and he did answer…but the answer wasn’t what we all wanted.

I wish God was a genie in a bottle and I could have three wishes.

But that kind of god wouldn’t be as powerful as my God is, even though sometimes I don’t like his plan.

And that’s where I am three days later.  I’m about 3/4 angry, and 1/4 numb.  I don’t really want to talk about it, or think about it, or remember that it happened.

Maybe this is called denial.

But here I am.

For now.

Dec19

Gosh I’m Stupid

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Gosh I’m Stupid

Last night, I got home about 5:30 and instantly set to work.  My house hadn’t been cleaned for two weeks, and somehow the recycling had tripled and was beginning to take over the dining room.  NOT MY FAVORITE.

I took a 30 minute break to eat dinner and throw some toys for Henry, but all told my house-cleaning took me just over an hour and a half.  And I even skipped scrubbing out the tub.  (Why did I even admit that on the internet?  I never should have done that.  If any of you judge me for being a scuzz, well, I guess that’s fine with me.)

Since it’s nearly Christmas, I decided to run my errands Friday evening to miss the crowds on Saturday.  Joey and I started doing our cleaning and shopping on Friday nights a couple of months ago, and so far we have LOVED it.  It makes the whole weekend so much more enjoyable because all of our work is totally done by the time we fall asleep.  Anyways.  You don’t care about our routine.  (Or maybe you do, which is why you read this blog?)

I made my short and abbreviated list, and once I looked at it I realized I didn’t really need to go out, but since I just kind of felt like it I went anyway.

The first stop was CVS to pick up my non-fertility-related prescription (what a change!) that my awesome, regular old non-fertility-related Doc called in for me. Then I returned something to OfficeMax that I bought for The Kid’s present, but it wound up not working out.  Then I went to Central Market and bought Peach Izzes, firewood, a chocolate bar, and some flowers for myself (I made it through the week, and that was reason enough for me.)  Then I went to Home Depot and got a replacement air filter because I noticed more dust than usual had collected on the furniture when I was cleaning.  Then I went to Target and spent an hour there trying on clothes, which I did not buy because I wound up not liking any of them.

I always try on clothes at Target that look cute on the hanger, but once they are on my person they look….weird.  This is probably more of a personal problem than anything else.

After a really, really long time I decided to head home.

It was about 9:30 when I carried my two reusable bags, the air filter, and the bundle of wood up the stairs.  It was quite difficult to carry all that stuff from the car; I really should have taken two trips.

I unlocked the door, put the stuff in the house, and then let Henry outside.  He was quick, which I was glad about because it was cold and I didn’t have a jacket.  We rushed up the stairs, I shut the door and double locked it from the inside, and we were in for the night.

Henry was absolutely no help at all with putting away the groceries, so he sat on the new afghan and “rested” while I worked.

I brushed my teeth with my new and amazing toothbrush, slapped on my Crest Whitestrips, and stayed up until 11:00 reading since I had to leave them on for 30 minutes.

Then…I fell asleep and slept for 10 1/2 hours.

This morning, when I opened the door to take Henry outside, I got a bit of a shock.

There, in my deadbolt lock on the outside of my door, hung my keys.

All of them.

ALL NIGHT THEY HAD BEEN THERE.

HOW AM I STILL ALIVE?!??!

The metal was cold as I gave a strangled scream (it was still early, I was trying to keep it quiet), yanked them out of the lock, and threw them in my purse where they should have been all night.  Henry just looked at me like, MOM.  I need to go outside, please get out of my way so I can go down the stairs.

Joey, get home soon.  I am obviously not safe here on my own.