So I have been reading through my previous posts today. I probably shouldn't have because it brought back just how sharp and deep the pain was. And sometimes is. At first it was always bad, but then it was only bad most of the time, then only sometimes, and now not very often. But all my posts have had the worst of times. So, though it seems like I've been lying in a ditch for 3 straight months, I really haven't been all of the time. I really do think I have been getting a lot better. Why do you ask? Because some people have said some things to me recently that I know would have sent me reeling or made me pulsate with anger before. But I didn't react that way, and I'm glad. I feel I am gaining control again. One of my friends whom I had confided in before spoke with me after I hadn't talked to her for almost a month. When I told her about my anxiety I was still experiencing, she said, "Still?" I was so shocked for a moment, I actually think my jaw dropped. Is there a time limit? I wasn't filled in if there was one. But I didn't get mad like I know I would have before. And out bishop called us in to talk to us one Sunday after church, for reasons I still don't know. He asked how we were doing and asked about the day he saw me crying. LDS family services contacted him and told him I called looking for a therapist. I didn't know they would call him, and I was caught off guard. It's not that I didn't want him to know. He is my friend and I would have told him anyway. I guess I just expected some patient privacy. But anyway, he asked me about what was going on that day. So I told him through lots of tears the basics of the story. And he said, "It's out of my hands." "All things happen for a reason." And "Things will happen when they happen." Even a week ago I would have been so filled with rage at what he had said. But I was mostly let down and a little angry. I had been looking so hard for a "message," I guess, from Heavenly Father. I had asked my husband to give me a blessing hoping for a little glimmer of hope or a promise or something. Nothing. Then I waited for a week to see the bishop hoping he might offer to give me a blessing or something. Or feel impressed to tell me something. Nothing. I feel so ungrateful saying it, but I feel so abandoned. Not only can I not get pregnant, I don't even get a "good job" or "you're almost done" let alone a "you will bear another child." Pretty much how I've felt my whole life: forgotten. At least I have my son.