ZINGO!

When I was in the sixth grade, my best friend at the time, Natalie, broke her leg or something.  For some reason, she was in a wheelchair.  So many details of what happened escape me.  The thing that I remember like it was yesterday, though, was how I was pushing her out to the playground for recess.  There was a slight decline.  To us, it felt like a 50-foot, 82° drop, when in all reality, it was probably not much more different than a wheelchair ramp.  I can remember getting a running start on that mammoth hill and pushing Natalie as fast as I could.  She threw her hands in the air, and in her best Tulsa-girl voice yelled, “ZINGO!”  (I should have prefaced this by stating that the Zingo was one of two rollercoasters in the local amusement park when we were kids.  Long live the Zingo memories.) 

SIDE NOTE:  I find it interesting to think back on the memories that I have as a child.  Some of them make so much sense that I remember because they were poignant moments in my life.  Other Zingo-related moments and discussions in high school about a local road having the speed limit lowered to 25 MPH are less clear as to why I can remember them so well.  I’m glad I do, though.  They bring me a smile.  END SIDE NOTE

Rollercoasters, though.  Seriously.  One of man’s best ideas.  I have loved rollercoasters my entire life.  When I was in college, my parents took me to Cedar Point Amusement Park.  It was a drizzly day, so the lines were pretty much non-existent.  I ran from rollercoaster to rollercoaster all the livelong day.  They had 14 rollercoasters, as they are considered the rollercoaster capital, and I rode each of them multiple times.

This past Memorial Day, we took a trip with my family to Branson, Missouri.  We had the kids with us…actually, 7 kids in all.  We spent a day and a half at Silver Dollar City.  I outrode our 17-year old and one of my nephews.  Three of the kids were too small or uninterested, so basically, only our two girls (and Todd) were able to hang with me.  LOVE ROLLERCOASTERS!

Several weeks ago, I had another one of my all-too-familiar anxiety attacks.  Todd and I agreed that it was time to see Maribeth, our therapist, again.  We made an appointment and went to talk to her.  Of course, the night of our appointment, I was feeling much better and more stable because it was 2 nights after the attack.  (Isn’t that how it goes when you get sick and make an appointment with a doctor, anyway?  You seem to get better before you get in to see them.)  Anyway, Maribeth decided to liken our infertility journey to a rollercoaster.  She played us this clip:  (You can skip to 1:12 if you want to get my point.)

“You know, it was just interesting me that a ride could make me so…so frightened, so scared, so sick, so…so excited and…and so thrilled all together. Some didn’t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the rollercoaster. You get more out of it.”

It made so much sense to me. I have always loved rollercoasters. I love the way they make me feel. Even when I’ve ridden one a few times and know what is to come, there is always something new that I missed the times before.

They excite me, but they also make me a little nauseous.

They bring me thrills, but they also cause my breath to catch when something really exciting happens.
They bring me so much joy, but they also cause me to slightly fear for my life at times.

Rollercoasters are awesome.

Last week, I started my acupuncture and Reiki treatments to help with my anxiety. I wrote this week in my blog that I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in 8 days. Then, last night came. Out of nowhere, something unexplained happened, and I’ve been wearing my feelings on my sleeve for the last 24 hours.

Don't judge me.  This is what Todd sees during my anxiety attacks...but with blonde hair and less-full eyelashes.

I’m trying really hard to control all of these emotions. It’s hard, though. I’ve been trying to force myself to think positive thoughts and use the “cancel, cancel” technique that the Reiki practitioner taught me. I’ve been stopping and taking deep breaths the way the acupuncture practitioner taught me. I’ve been praying to God for peace and positive thinking all day.

Still, the thoughts start to creep in. Thoughts of this cycle not working. Thoughts of how we will just fail, again. I told Todd last night that we have had so much failure on this journey that I think I’ve forgotten what it looks like to be able to imagine a success. I feel like I’ve become a victim to infertility, and I am struggling to see myself as a survivor. All I want right now is to be able to picture the nurse calling to tell us we had a positive test, followed by an awesome pregnancy, and culminating in our beautiful bundle of joy being wrapped in our protective arms. I want to see that in my mind. I want to dream about that. I want to be able to say that’s going to happen without having a voice of doubt tell me I’m wrong. I want to hear others say it’s going to happen without my gut reaction being to correct them. I want to be able to think about succeeding at this without getting a catch in the back of my throat, followed by the pain of holding back the tears.

I know deep down that someday, I will look back at this and praise God for what He did for us. Today, I’m struggling. Today, I just need a little break from this rollercoaster.