The Funk

Part of the reason it has taken so long to write aside from morning sickness and overwhelming exhaustion, is the fear that somehow my view on our condition would matter less now that I am pregnant.  Maybe this fear is stupid, maybe its not.  Either way, I shouldn’t have assumed.  

I have missed writing, I've missed being able to share my difficulties, and I've missed hoping something good will come out of them.

These last couple of months have been filled with doctor appointments and weddings.  I am not sure about any of you, but every time I go to a wedding, I am reminded of my wedding night...and the failure.  With that memory, I find myself heading into “the funk”.  You know, its that place where reason leaves, your brain is blurry, and there is always that one rain cloud that follows you around and you can’t seem to get away.

My next step in “the funk” for me have been all the doctors appointments.  Apparently unbeknownst to me, OBGYN’s expect you to see almost every doctor in the clinic, since you won’t know which doctor is on call the night you deliver.  It insures that you have probably shook hands with the doctor who will be guiding you through labor.  This seems completely reasonable until you realize that once a month you will be explaining to a new doctor that you still have vaginismus and could they go slow.  

My last appointment was a doozy.  The doctor seemed to think that giving me instructions on what I could and could not eat would be enough of a distraction to get me through my pap smear.  Few doctors realize it is an involuntary muscle spasm, they think its control by fear.  I think the involuntary muscle spasm controls the fear, not the other way around.  Either way my muscles tried to refuse the exam and shut down on the alligator tool...thankfully they were already on their way out anyway.  My body has been spasming since.

Job lost his children, he lost is livestock aka his job, and then he lost his health.  All the while he didn’t curse God.  Hearing his story, I found it perfectly reasonable for his to be in a funk.  That is until God reminded him and me how powerful He is and who He is.  Do we really have the right to question the One who created all things?  Can we really think that He doesn’t know what we are going through?  

“So take me as you find me, all my fears and failures, fill my life again!...
Savior, He can move the mountains my God is mighty to save!  He is mighty to save!”