Ballad of The Left Behind

I’ve been so angry.

Angry that you left me.

Angry that you left all of them.

Angry that you didn’t find help.

Angry that I didn’t know you needed it.

Angry that you pushed me away, when you should have confided in me.

Angry that I let you.

Angry that you lost sight of how beautiful life is and how much more beautiful you made it.

Angry that I didn’t get to say goodbye.

Angry that I didn’t have the words to tell people who we were together.

Angry that I ever thought I needed to explain it to anyone else.

Angry that only weeks later our dreams were coming true and all I had were the DREAMS of telling you.

Angry that one of the women I thought I’d always look to won’t be here in the moments I need her most.

I’m so sad.

Sad that I was angry.

Sad that you are gone.

Sad that I wasn’t there to help.

Sad that you never heard what you desperately needed to hear.

Sad that you felt like we would somehow be better off without you.

Sad that you were the greatest mom your girls could ever have, and now they have no mom at all.

Sad that you’ll never hold my babies.

Sad that you’ll never kiss their faces.

Sad that they will never know you.

Sad that there will no longer be an “us.”

Sad that I know I’m not the same without you.

Sad that The One you love the most is the only One that gets to tell you how much you are really worth and how much you are loved, when we want so badly to tell you now.

I miss you.

I miss you when I wake.

I miss you when I look at His creation.

I miss you when I cook and when I clean.

I miss you when I hear a good song.

I miss you when I worship Him and when I scream at Him.

I miss you when I talk to my mom and to Christy.

I miss you when I hear children laughing.

I miss you when I go to sleep.

I DON'T miss you when I dream. You’re almost always there.

I miss you when I wake.

I miss you.

Apathy.

When I last blogged, you will all remember, I was somewhat emotional. Okay, I was a full on basket case of raw feminine hormonal terror. It wasn't pretty, and it may even have been on the scary side. But I was being honest with you all on how I was feeling...so I don't apologize. I just hope I didn't do any permanent damage! ;)

I've titled this post, "Apathy." I have to say that is the word that is most descriptive of the feelings I now have...having blasted the world with my anger only days ago. I know I should feel bad about it, but that's the thing about apathy, you just don't care. 

Let me preface by saying, at my church, we have small groups of people that meet at random to have a more personal and intimate spiritual experience than that which we have on any given Sunday. We can do life together and know each others' struggles and help to share in each others' burdens. This is common among many churches I've attended, sometimes these groups are called "cell" or "care-group" or what have you, but the idea is the same. I love my small group, we are a diverse bunch and we all have our quirks and each of us have our own very unique way of thinking and approaching situations.  

That being said, tonight the topic we were discussing was "Forgiveness." More specifically, how forgiveness or a lack of forgiveness effects our relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ, our daily walk, and our eternity. It was a great conversation. The topic then turned to what each of us is struggling with...and I shared my struggle from this week, how I've been angry and bitter and how I've decided to turn that toward God. My small group leader asked me what I was going to do about it and how I was going to get past it, and honestly, I didn't know how to answer. I know that I can't stay in this place, because it's not healthy for anyone, especially for me, but I just didn't know what to do. 

Now, here is the difference in where I was 2 years ago and where I am today. Two years ago I would have given the perfect Sunday-school answer and I would have said I'm just going to pray more and be accountable to someone and read more in the Bible and just study it all out...........but here's the thing, 80% of the time I've said I was going to do something like that (the right way) I've not actually done it, and I'm tired of being fake. I am at a point where I think it's better to just be real and show your "ugly" to the supporters you have...that's the only way you'll ever get anywhere, right? Hiding your addictions, stumbling blocks, and other various sins isn't helping anyone. 

Finally, I collected my thoughts enough to give an answer. I shared that I don't know what I'm going to do, because where I am right now I just don't care. I don't care what I should do or what is best for me to do...I don't feel like taking the steps I should to be better.....and I don't know why.

This was disturbing to me (and others I'm sure)...but it's the only answer I had. 

It was then that someone shared a personal story and his opinion that where I am is not a bad place. I've been hurt, I've been angry, and the natural next stage is a feeling of apathy. The good thing, he said, was that I obviously wasn't content being apathetic, because I was sharing it with all of them. The fact that I wasn't just keeping it to myself means that I do want to move forward.......and he was right. I do. I don't know if it will be tonight or tomorrow...but the fact is, I love my God and I love my faith. I have been hurt and I honestly feel that grieving and being angry is okay. 

God knows my heart and He hears my cries. And the fact that I'm being real and I'm expressing to Him my lack of acceptance in His plans for my life at this time means that I am at least communicating with Him...which is better than not talking to Him at all. I know that my God loves His children like an earthly father (actually even better than that...) and just because something doesn't go my way and I get angry and lash out at Him, doesn't mean He will turn His back on me...instead, He will wrap me in His love and be there waiting when my tantrum ends.

I guess all I can say for now is, that if you're a Christian and you're reading this, please pray for me. I'm a broken, selfish, immature, angry, bitter, lazy, horrible excuse of a Child of God...and I know it...

Serious

I warn you. I'm blogging angry. Yes, that's right. Chipper, hyper, happy Hannah has gone...now you see the green eyed beast. 

A few moments ago I made the grave mistake of opening the full view page of an article on the Yahoo! homepage. (this rarely ends well) The story was about a Mexican mother of 4 that is pregnant with 9 babies (supposedly). Okay, first of all, this alleged pregnancy is result of an obvious abuse of scientific power by a quack gone IVF-happy that used to be called a doctor. The mother, father, and 4 older-siblings-to-be live with the parents/in-laws/grandparents or whatever they are, I believe they are the parents of the father of the 9...or 13... you follow I'm sure. The father is some type of tire maintenance person or mechanic of some sort, and he doesn't make much money. The mother has cried out for assistance from their community. COME ON!!!! Really? 

Here is what I want to know: 

1) How do low income families of 6+ afford IVF?

2) Who told this woman it was a good idea to try for more kids? Or rather, who stood by and said nothing?

3) How could anyone [husband/in-laws/friends] be so much of an enabler as to have allowed for an environment that would promote even the inkling of such an absurd idea??? 

This all makes me very angry. Some of you know why. But let me give a little background.

I am an almost 26 year old. I have been married for almost 6 years. I have been begging God, my husband, and anyone else I see (meaning people that have their own kids that may let me have one. I know, not likely and not really acceptable, but it can't hurt to ask...) for a baby for 4 years now...give our take a years...more on the give side. I've known when my pleading wasn't really realistic, because we lived in apartments on military salary and so on...but we have been in a place where it would be more than okay to conceive for about 2 years now. And yet.........................nothing. 

I know we aren't the normal scenario, what with my sporadic hormonal cycle (<--- trying not to embarrass any boys reading this), and the amount of abstinence in our marriage due to jobs that keep us apart almost as much as we are together. I know that our situation means that we are a lot less likely to conceive than the average couple...and that we will most likely have to resort to some form of fertility treatment or adoption or both...I have accepted this (or so I tell myself) and usually it doesn't get to me like it is today. But today, as I mentioned before, I'm ANGRY!

I'm angry at the stupid 15 year old dummies that get "knocked up" because they don't understand how it all works. I'm angry at the cute little couples that get pregnant the first time they have sex...on their honeymoon. I'm angry, obviously, at the idiots around the world that don't deserve and sometimes don't even want children and yet have them...over and over and over...it's like some of these people are rabbits. Really? Is your gestation period 30 days or does time really pass this quickly??

I know I'm breaking all the rules and being a very bad Christian at this point. But I'm not going to lie or pretend. More than anything, I'm mad at God. I know He has some grand plan for my life and He knows best and He knows when and where and how and why I will eventually have a child to love...but I'm just ANGRY that it isn't right here, right now. You know? I'm either already there or dangerously close to becoming bitter. I refuse to believe I am meant to be heartbroken every time I take a pregnancy test. I know I wouldn't want this so badly if I wasn't meant to have it. I don't believe God would have given me the maternal desires I have if I weren't supposed to be a mother. I don't understand why I have to wait and wait and keep on waiting. 

I watch so many of my friends and family having kids or adopting kids or getting pregnant left and right...and I don't begrudge a single one of you, I'm so happy for all of you and I know that every one of your children are blessing not only in your life but also in mine and I love them all. And I love you all.

I don't even know what else to say. I can hardly see my computer because I'm crying. This is stupid, probably a mistake, but I guess I finally have had enough. 

So, until I read another worthless book or watch another grand movie and can talk about how excited I am about some fictional world....................................

Wuv. Tru Wuv.

No one said it better than The Impressive Clergyman! "And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva." 

My Tru Wuv is home and in the words of my little cousin, Emily, "I'm so pacited!!"


I love my husband so much! He is infuriating and irresistible. Clueless and genius. Mysterious and transparent. He makes me crazy and he keeps my feet on the ground! What else can I call it.......but "wuv, tru wuv!"


I don't know how many can claim a love like Wesley's and Buttercup's, but many of us have true love! "So tweasure your wuv..." I know I do!

Cleaning Pains

Buying a brand new home has it's ups and downs. My favorite up is that it still looks and smells clean after 4 months of occupancy with minimal upkeep. My friends come by and tell me how sick it makes them...and I thoroughly enjoy them believing I'm some superwoman house wife.

The down that accompanies this up? When the husband is going to be home soon and it's finally (past) time to do that major deep cleaning! Living clutter and filth free can only get you so far with these Northern Colorado winds and their evil master plan to eventually cover us all up with dirt as if our dirt is sand and No-Co is the Sahara...the windows get dirt in them...the doors get dirt under them...the porch gets dirt inches deep piled and piled up at least once a week! Every surface inside has this thin dusting of the stuff...gritty, nasty, horrid dirt!

I love my beautiful brown carpet, it hides everything...but not to the bare foot...my hard wood is beautiful! Beautiful and reflects the dust and dirt!

Only using one of the 3 bathrooms really does make that part easy though.

Oh, cleaning pains...

Where did my youth go?

Baffled. That's the feeling. Pure confusion. Wasn't it just yesterday I was learning the hula for my Senior Project at RHS? Has it really been 12 years since I've owned my own horse (I still miss that painted pony)? Wasn't it just last year I myself was only 15 years old???

How did I become 25? That's an entire quarter of a Century!!! When did kids start asking ME questions in order finish their Senior Papers.....Am I really so old that I can talk about my transition from "youth group kid" to adult and how my faith weathered the transition...? 

I know. I know. I'd better get with the program. Of course I realize I'm a youth sponsor now and I'm working with parents in order to insure that their kids see God and don't lose their ever-loving minds (like I did) when they go to college. I get it. I know it. I'm not just realizing it or anything. But today it all seems so surreal.

OMG. I'm old.

Harry Potter. Finally.

I can't remember the specifics of it all, but I do know that around the age of 13 (when Harry Potter was becoming all the rage) I was programmed to believe magic was evil and Harry Potter was the devil. I know my parents meant well, and perhaps I wasn't mentally sound enough to read of such adventure without becoming an all out silly wizard-dressing, potion-making, quidditch-playing fanatic. So, maybe they did me a favor.......

(Argument: Why was the magic in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings different? Narnia? Beats me.)

At any rate, I've done it now! I've read the first book. I'm hooked. My dreams are full of invisibility cloaks and jelly beans of every flavor. I find myself fascinated with the world that J.K. Rowling has created and I'm so excited to learn all that happens there! I feel like a little kid discovering magic for the very first time and I just can't get enough! And.........I'll admit, part of me wants to dress in robes, mix funny colored liquids, and ride on a broomstick dodging temperamental flying iron balls ("bludgers"). Luckily for everyone, I'm an adult now...so I can't do any of that. In public. 

Until I can tear myself away from The Chamber of Secrets..............................................