It's Not Always About Me

I know, the title is supposed to just say "It's Not About Me" or better yet "It's Never About Me". But let's be honest here, I normally make it all about me.

I woke up this morning in a it's all about me kind of mood. I had thrown my pity party last night where I drank caffeine AND sugar and consumed a solid dozen cookies on my own, because hey, I'm not pregnant (more on this later). I woke up at 6:30 (ewww) cramping, irritable, and just feeling generally crummy. I really wanted to say screw it; church and volunteering can do without me. I deserve a break. But thankfully, I'm the kind of girl, that if I commit, I'll be there, and I had committed to serve in my church's little ones ministry. So I went with my cramps and my tired eyes, thinking "is it healthy to see all these pregnant momma's with their abundance of children after a BFN?

But you know what's so cool? Getting a little perspective. The leader started the morning off with one of my favorite things: life change stories from the church. So here's the story:

A family started coming to our church because they felt that their wee one needed to grow up with some moral people and that church might be the place for that. They themselves weren't particularly into the idea of God or Jesus, but they came for their child. So fast forward and this couple in now in an environment where they can ask the hard questions and get some real answers about faith, the church, and a relationship with Christ. All of this because volunteers offered warm hearts and open hands when they showed up one Sunday and handed their child over to a stranger. If that doesn't give you a purpose for being there, I don't know what would. So again, sometimes it's not about me and what I'm dealing with, feeling like, etc. It's about what little role I might play in a way bigger story that day. I need to learn to remember this, and to be okay with this.

So back to that whole not pregnant thing. Yep, IUI #1 failed. I was prepared(ish) for this when I went in for the big test yesterday morning, but there's always some glimmering little stubborn hope left. I got the call about 3 hours later that my blood test was negative. The call came in the car with Sam, my mom, and my nephew (awkward) on our way to the Georgia game. But like I said, no real shocker, so I think I handled it like a champ. No tears, just a thank you, and a have a good weekend. But can we pause for a moment and discuss the worst jobs? I do believe making "sorry, you're not pregnant calls" would have to rank high on the list.

Anyway, I haven't actually started, but as soon as I do, we will schedule the first appointments for round 2. Thus far, I'm hanging in there. I'm bummed, but not some crazy weepy lady. But only time will tell how long I'll hold it together. When the flow starts, it may be a bit more real than a voice on the phone. But even if crazy, weepy, depressed lady shows herself, I know that she will pass. I've done this before, I can do it again.