This last week has pushed every limit I thought I had physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually… Every bit of medical news we have is ambiguous with a hint of menacing, and there is no definitive end in sight. I have reached the ledge where I am ready to dive into self-pity, and it’s hard to look away from that abyss when I am so frustrated. I have been running a fever for almost a full week. This is now the fourth week of continual bleeding, and my hcg level on Thursday was 30 (from 29 on Monday). It’s hovering around the same level without dropping, which means we’ll have to wait it out at least another week unless my fever spikes over 100.5. The fever is frustrating on several levels, the first being that I feel almost as bad as when I had the flu – the bright side here being I have no sinus or upper respiratory congestion. At least I can breathe, but I can’t convince the doctor that 99.5 for me is like 100.5 for people with normal body temperatures.
The nurse encouraged me to try to relax and rest, which I have to do because an hour of activity makes me so tired I need a two hour nap to sit up again. I have missed another week of work, which isn’t the end of the world, but it does mean that my world is going to stink when I try to get caught up again. I can’t keep up on housework or do the few big things that need to be done before we can finish a few home improvement projects. I had finally gotten my feet under me, and now I’m back on my duff indefinitely. I hate to lose the momentum I had going because I was finally accomplishing some of the bigger tasks I had put off for so long; it was huge boost for my confidence to have those tiny bits of accomplishment every day. While I wouldn’t call myself super-productive, I don’t do forced inactivity very well.
My husband asked me what I wanted the doctor to do when I expressed my extreme frustration about the situation. I think what I really want from the doctor and/or from God is a definitive end or a plan, as in, “If your hcg level is still this high in this many days, or if your fever isn’t gone by this day, we’re going to take this action.” I feel like if I had a deadline, I could talk myself into waiting a bit more patiently. Watch and wait, possibly for another week or two, is fraying my emotions and my ability to endure anything else. With the addition of hormones that are completely out of whack, I feel like I’m a step past completely out of control. It’s hard to comprehend that God IS in control of this situation. It’s terribly easy to ask him why without accepting his answer, “I am God, and you are not.” (Read Job; it’s the only answer he ever got from God.)
This week is a “Why me, God?” week. When will I have suffered enough for this to be over? If we had to lose this baby, too, why do I have to go through this extra physical complication? If there’s still an inkling of a chance that we still have a baby, why did we have to go through two weeks of hell to find out? Why even allow the hcg numbers to stay elevated if it’s only going to break my heart open wider with false hope? What purpose is this serving, and why can’t it just end?
But those are the human questions, and they’re the wrong ones to ask from a spiritual standpoint. The tougher questions are, “What am I learning about God through this, and why am I refusing to accept that lesson?” I wish I were obedient enough to ignore the why’s and the self-pity all the time and just rest on God every moment. It’s incredible that in a week I have experienced the certain knowledge of the presence of God through an incredible time of corporate worship, and I have experienced the wholly human folly of doubting his power and his plan. How ridiculous am I that I will argue with the creator of the universe and tell him this plan is no good for me? When is he enough for me that I can just wait for him and accept that he is God, and I am not? I am glad for the short-term relief of being honest and asking God the questions, but now I need the long-term knowledge that I can rely on God no matter what. Now I have reached the no matter what, and at least this time I’m not running away – I’m just having a hard time waiting gracefully.