He decided that we should talk first, since it was going to be a blind date, so we did. For five days straight, four to five hours at a time, we talked. He was so nice and sweet on the phone, so I knew he had to be a real jerk in person. I was counting on it! He was late arriving, so that was good, because it just proved God was not in this one either!
The door buzzed and I went out to meet him. There he was - tall, gorgeous, and holding a single, long stemmed, red rose. He had the biggest smile and gave me a huge bear hug that lasted a full minute.
"Oh great," I thought. "Just remember, you refuse to like him!"
We spent the entire night getting to know each other and everything was going well. Too well. I couldn't think of one legitimate reason to hate the guy! Fortunately for me, I got sick from the disease and was humiliated. I thought, "If this doesn't seal my fate, I don't know what will."
I felt obligated to tell him about my illness, since he sat there and waited for me to regain some composure and seemed so concerned. I even told him I could not have children of my own, but he was still interested. He didn't scare off easily, but I had faith in myself that eventually he'd be running for the door. But he seemed to like me, or at least the me he thought I was. Either way, we would take this slow.
No More Secrets
One week later I moved in with him. We were engaged in July and married in December. I was now living in a new house, new city, and was married. My life started to change. I even went into remission and was able to stop all my meds but the birth control. I quit my job and stayed home for a while. At my husband's urging I sought help for my sadness and mood swings. My mental illness was not a secret to my husband and he seemed to love me and support me no matter what. I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, and Depression. We would later add psychotic tendencies to the list of mental diseases.
I prayed for cancer. Mental Illness was the unaccepted and unrespectable disease. When you have cancer you have a real disease and you can't help it. People can pray for you and you can talk about it, out loud even. But Mental Illness? The doctor said that due to a lack of the chemical in my brain called serotonin, I would always need medication, but it was treatable.
"Yeah," I thought. "Treatable but not reputable."
I would take my meds on and off, and my husband would know by my moods whether he could laugh with me or walk on egg shells around me. I felt a little better when I found out it was hereditary, but not much when I realized it had been kept a secret from me, and on purpose. You just don't talk about such things, and if you ignore them, then they will go away.
Only it didn't go away. It never goes away. And not being able to have children only made it worse.
On November 9, 1998, we decided to go to a doctor to see if there were any new treatments or cures that would help us have a baby of our own. We were shocked to find out that we were already six weeks pregnant. I couldn't stop crying. Tim couldn't stop grinning. We called everyone we knew and I think some people we didn't.
Three days later we lost the baby. I was devastated and even thinking about another baby made me angry and bitter. Tim wanted to try again immediately, but I did not. The pain was too great, and I probably would not be able to get pregnant again. That would really send me over the edge. For four months I grieved for the baby we lost and then tried to gain some closure, for me and for the sake of our marriage.
Soften My Heart
I prayed for God to soften my heart towards trying again, and to bring me some peace. On March 12, I began to get sick again. Tim feared I was coming out of remission, but I knew that was not the case. I was pregnant again. We went to the doctor and I was only three weeks along - plenty of time for me to worry. The doctor ran some tests, and called us back to say not to get too excited, the levels were low, and not to consider this a viable pregnancy. We called all our friends at church and our family and asked them to pray that God's will be done, and for Him to give me the strength to accept it no matter the outcome.
We went back to the doctor's office two weeks later in hopes that our levels had doubled. That was not the case. Our levels had more than quadrupled. The doctor was shocked but we were not. We knew that God was going to give us a baby. I was sick the entire pregnancy and could not have been happier.
We spent a lot of time at the doctor's office because we were considered high risk, but it was worth it. I prayed and tried to trust God completely, but I did worry.
