Silence is Golden

Recently I've subscribed to some feeds on Facebook re: infertility, and one post asked "What do you wish people would say to you instead of just relax and it will happen?" The majority of the answers were "I'd rather people didn't say anything at all." Most of them told tales of people who don't know first hand the pain that comes with infertility, and their uninformed and glib advice was more hurtful than helpful. So I found it particularily interesting when I read this passage from Job yesterday, Job responding to his friends and their so-called advice, especially considering my last post about 'being like Job.'

Job 13:2, 4-5
"What you know, I also know; I am not inferior to you....You, however, smear me with lies; you are worthless physicians, all of you! If only you would be altogether silent! For you, that would be wisdom."

Luckily most of the people in my life have not needed to be silenced :) but for those who fumble, feeling you have to say something, believe me, all the best of what you want to convey, and all the support I want to feel is best expressed in a hug.

The YoYo

Am I the only one who feels a little like Job? Like there is a bet between God and Satan and Satan is allowed to do whatever in order to get me to curse God? I wonder this every time I'm late. This is the greatest weapon he's got against me right now, because there hasn't been anything that has made me so emotionally selfish as the feeling of crashing from hopefulness. And there is no time of greater hope than being 4+ days late.
At 1 or 2 days, I'm still kinda...'aren't I due about now?' because I purposfully forget my schedule these days. Then at 3-4 days, I've checked the calendar to be sure, and I'm coming up with reasons why it's late that are 'normal' (for me anyway). But as I'm getting further into day 4, the thoughts start to creep in, no matter how much my mind tells my heart to shut up. And I dwell on a thought, for just a moment, and it makes me smile for a brief second before I shut it down, but that's all it took and hope has creeped in too. Hope multiplies fast, even in just a few hours.
5 days is the latest I've been since 'the decision'. I did better this time, telling myself everything and anything to stop the hope. Then I saw a pair of cowboy boots on a little kid at a country concert we went to, and they reminded me of a few years ago when Sean found these teeny cowbaby boots at the Forks, and the look of giddyness he had when he showed them to me, declaring our baby HAD to have these once he/she came along. It seems the instant I have hope is when it gets ripped from me. Which is why it makes me feel a little like I'm a toy. A YoYo, up and down, up and down. And quite frankly it's not nearly as fun as the ride, I was just on at the fair, of the same name. Makes me feel like I'm a YoYo **points finger at self and motions 'crazy'** for hoping. But at least I'm not cursing.