Mocking

On Wednesday, we found out that Mike's sister is pregnant with her third child. We're happy for her, of course (especially since she had an early miscarriage this past spring), but, well, you know. When she sent us and their other siblings an e-mail to let us know, I kind of sat there in disbelief for a little bit.
Then, today at work, our department had a little "congratulations" party for one of the guys whose wife is days away from giving birth. I didn't feel much like celebrating, but at least I got some cake and ice cream out of it.
Do you ever feel like other people are living the life you're supposed to be living?
Mike and I have adopted the term "mocking" to describe friends and family who announce they're expecting a baby. Now, we're not evil, bitter people. It's more of a joke between us when we hear of people's fertile exploits. One of these days, we hope to mock as well. For now, we'll just grit our teeth at the sight of other people's mocking.
In the midst of it all, I'm trying to keep perspective. When I was a kid, there was an ever-changing clique made up of me and the other two girls in our cul-de-sac. One week two of us were B.F.F. (best friends forever), and the next it was another two. When we'd play Chinese jump rope or some other game, the other two would always shout out "I'm first!" before me. I'd get annoyed, and I remember one time in particular I told my dad how angry it made me that I would always end up getting the last turn in our games. I'll never forget his advice. He said, "So, let them go first. If you go last, you have the advantage of trying to do better than them." That advice always stuck with me. I seem to be the "last" of my friends to do various things: the last to have a steady boyfriend, the last to get engaged, the last to be married, and, as it is turning out, the last to have kids. Now, I'm not implying that, following my dad's logic, I will have "better" kids than any of my friends, but perhaps in being the last to have a family, God is saving the best in my life for last. Maybe in making me wait, I will truly appreciate the blessing of children more than I ever could if they came easily. At least, that's what I hope....
On the health front, Mike is still doing well. We met with his oncologist this week, and while they don't have an absolute treatment plan in mind, they're going to recommend more chemo and either a full bone-marrow transplant or a "mini" transplant. We meet with a dermatologist/trained oncologist next week to get his take on things. If Mike were to do chemo, that would begin the following week. We're still working with the energy healers to try to make headway before having to go the chemo route.
I'm still trying to reconcile God's plan for us with all that's swirling about in our lives. The other day, a co-worker shared an interesting anecdote, and I found it fitting. She was telling me a story of a few years back, when her mother was very sick. She said she called her aunt, and broke down crying due to all that her mother was going through. Her aunt (who lived to be 105 years old, I believe) stopped her right away, and said, "You've picked a terrible time to lose your faith." This kind of woke me up, and as much as I hate to admit it, it's true. At some moments, I feel like my world is crashing in. I feel like Murphy -- and his law -- have taken up permanent residence in our living room. But even while I'm feeling sorry for myself, I realize that I need my faith now more than ever. Yes, I may get angry at God. Yes, I may not understand His ways. Yes, I may want to shout and throw things and just sit around and pout all day. But this is truly when I need my faith the most.
I've picked exactly the right time to embrace my faith.