A "Know"ing Rant

** Disclaimer: This rant is not aimed at anyone in particular or due to anyone's specific comment to me. It is a collection of thoughts I've had since our journey began almost five years ago, and another five years prior to that, if you count the PCOS issues. Please, if you think I'm writing out my very raw feelings here in response to something you've said to me, please know that's not true. This blog is a place for me to put my feelings and I love and cherish the support you give me - through constructive criticism or pure empathy, whether you've lived a portion of it yourselves or not - I love it all and I love you. This rant is personal and not due to anything anyone has said. **

Begin rant...

I know there are people out there - wonderful people, far better people than little ol' me - fostering and parenting and jumping through more hoops than I'll ever see to make their family "legal" in the eyes of the government. I know that. But does knowing that and, better yet, empathizing with that, make my journey any less painful for me?

I love the support I receive from the friends and family who give it... I cherish it and thank God for all He's given me in the people in my life. I also thank God and am humbled every day for the children He's entrusted me to care for and raise with the best of my ability to know and love Him and to be good stewards here on this earth. I thank Him for the most wonderful husband a girl could ever ask for. I thank Him for parents who gave me a happy, carefree childhood and who stood together through the test of time to show me what marriage and parenting really is. I even thank Him for my infertility... okay, maybe I've only thanked Him a couple of times for that one; more often than not, I still shake my fist at Him over that one.

I know what a good life He's blessed me with. I know I could always have it worse. When I'm really hating on my PCOS and infertility, I start my little mantra: It could always be worse. I could have cancer. I could have a disease that doesn't allow me to move, or see, or hear, doesn't allow me to experience the gloriousness of this world. I could have been victim to horrible abuses. I could have never "found" a husband, a godly man who loves me more than life. I could have, I could have, I could have...

I know it could be worse. And I knew what we could have been up against in our adoption journey. The very reason we didn't go into fostering with the intent to foster and see if it could lead to adoption is because of all the CPS and government regulated bullcrap that foster parents have to deal with. Children's best interest? BullCRAP! I grew up experiencing first-hand foster, and more specifically, ICWA bureaucracy...on an Indian reservation, for crying out loud. I knew my heart wouldn't be able to handle that. I know I'm weak. I know I play the "why me, Lord" card all too often when I'm feeling sorry for myself.

KNOWing all those things doesn't make our journey any easier for us to deal with. It's OUR journey, and knowing it could be worse like so many others, doesn't make our hearts ache any less. It does make us step back and thank God once again for not having it any more difficult than we do, and for giving us the resources to be able to deal with it all (emotionally and physically). But our hearts still ache.