Songs for rough days

Because I wanted them all in one place, I compiled a bunch of songs that can give a little comfort, encouragement, or perspective on the hard days, especially CD1 or any other day you're feeling down.

"By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North
"Why are you looking for love? Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough?"


"Worn" by Tenth Avenue North
"Life just won’t let up and I know that you can give me rest, so I cry out with all that I have left."


"Hold My Heart" by Tenth Avenue North
"Could the Maker of the stars hear the sound of my breaking heart?"


"You Were on the Cross" by Matt Maher
"And where were You when all that I've hoped for, where You when all that
I've dreamed came crashing down in shambles around me? You were on the cross."


"Blessings" by Laura Story
"What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?"


"Even If" by Kutless
"You are God and we will bless You even if the healing doesn’t come."


"What Faith Can Do" by Kutless
"I've seen dreams that move the mountains, hope that doesn't ever end
even when the sky is falling."


"While I'm Waiting" by John Waller
"I'm waiting on You, Lord though it is painful, but patiently, I will wait."


"If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens
"I'll remember the suffering Your love put You through
and I will go through the darkness if You want me to."


"Praise You in This Storm" by Casting Crowns
"And every tear I've cried, You hold in Your hand. You never left my side."


"Already There" by Casting Crowns
"From where I'm standing, Lord it's so hard for me to see where this is going
and where You're leading me."


"No One Else Knows" by Building 429
"When all I am is crying out, I hold it in and fake a smile, still I'm broken."


"Help Me Find It" by Sidewalk Prophets
"If there’s a road I should walk help me find it. If I need to be still give me peace for the moment."


"The Hurt and the Healer" by Mercy Me
"Pain so deep that I can hardly move; just keep my eyes completely fixed on You"


"Lay It Down" by Jaci Velasquez
"I know that you know that my heart is aching. I'm running out of tears and my will is breaking.
I don't think that I can carry the burden of it anymore."


"No Matter What" by Kerrie Roberts
"I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain but if not,
if not, I'll trust You, no matter what."


"Before the Morning" by Josh Wilson
"...'cause the pain you've been feeling can't compare to the joy that's coming"


"All I Can Say" by David Crowder Band
"I didn't know that that was You holding me. I didn't notice You were crying too."


"Need You Now" by Plumb
"How many times have you heard me cry out 'God please take this'?
How many times have you given me strength to just keep breathing?"


"Bring the Rain" by Mercy Me
"I am Yours regardless of the dark clouds that may loom above
because You are much greater than my pain."


"Carry Me" by Audrey Assad
"So, I choose to believe as I carry this cross, You'll carry me."


"Your Hands" by JJ Heller
"When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands."


"I Lift My Hands" by Chris Tomlin
"As I pour out my heart, these things I remember. You are faithful, God, forever."


"Tunnel" by Third Day
"You've got your disappointments and sorrows. You ought to share the weight of that load with me."


"Cry Out to Jesus" by Third Day
"When you're lonely and it feels like the whole world is falling on you,
you just reach out, you just cry out to Jesus."


"Never Alone" by Barlow Girl
"I cried out with no reply, and I can't feel You by my side. So I'll hold tight to what I know: 
You're here and I'm never alone."


"Blessed Be Your Name" by Tree63
"Blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering.  Though there's pain in the offering, 
blessed be Your name."


"For the Moments I Feel Faint" by Relient K
"Never underestimate my Jesus. When the world around you crumbles, He will be strong."


"Safe" by Phil Wickham
"When everything is falling apart, you will be safe in His arms."


"Strong Enough" by Matthew West
"'Cause I'm broken down to nothing but I'm still holding on to the one thing.
You are God and you are strong when I am weak."


"Where I Belong" by Building 429
"So when the walls come falling down on me and when I'm lost in the current of a raging sea, 
I have this blessed assurance holding me."

Some words of encouragement

You know how sometimes you come across some words of Scripture that you think God meant specifically for you on that particular day in that minute?  That's how I felt when I heard this passage the other day.  It's all of chapter 2 of Sirach.  I think it's pretty fitting for Advent too.

Sirach 2

1 My child, when you come to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for trials.

2 Be sincere of heart and steadfast, and do not be impetuous in time of adversity.

3 Cling to him, do not leave him, that you may prosper in your last days.

4 Accept whatever happens to you; in periods of humiliation be patient.

5 For in fire gold is tested, and the chosen, in the crucible of humiliation.

6 Trust in God, and he will help you; make your ways straight and hope in him.

7 You that fear the Lord, wait for his mercy, do not stray lest you fall.

8 You that fear the Lord, trust in him, and your reward will not be lost.

9 You that fear the Lord, hope for good things, for lasting joy and mercy.

10 Consider the generations long past and see: has anyone trusted in the Lord and been disappointed? Has anyone persevered in his fear and been forsaken? Has anyone called upon him and been ignored?

11 For the Lord is compassionate and merciful; forgives sins and saves in time of trouble.

12 Woe to timid hearts and drooping hands, to the sinner who walks a double path!

13 Woe to the faint of heart! For they do not trust, and therefore have no shelter!

14 Woe to you that have lost hope! What will you do at the Lord’s visitation?

15 Those who fear the Lord do not disobey his words; those who love him keep his ways.

16 Those who fear the Lord seek to please him; those who love him are filled with his law.

17 Those who fear the Lord prepare their hearts and humble themselves before him.

18 Let us fall into the hands of the Lord and not into the hands of mortals, for equal to his majesty is his mercy; and equal to his name are his works.

When I first read this chapter, I thought it applies to IF quite well.  I just found out today we are facing a new trial:  DH lost his job.  His employer is facing severe budget cuts and has no money left to pay him after this month.  We knew his job was ending, but it wasn't supposed to happen until late next summer.  He has been looking for a new job, but if he finds one it won't start until summer.  If you could spare a prayer for us, we would very much appreciate it.

Three years of TTC

We are on cycle #30 of TTC. It's been three years since we started. That's a lot of TTC. And a lot of BFNs.

In some ways, IF has become comfortable—not enjoyable, mind you. I know what to expect. I know when I'll be extra sad or sensitive. I know when I can handle baby-related news with the greatest likelihood of having dry eyes. But I'm weary. Living with prolonged grief is emotionally draining. This third year of TTC has been noticeably harder than the prior year, probably because we've checked more and more things off the treatment list that haven't worked. I can see some good fruits that have come from this suffering. I know it has brought DH and me closer. I can sympathize better with others going through IF (like some of my clients) or anyone facing a difficult cross. As painful as IF can be, I trust that God will bring a greater good out of all of this. I may not know what that good is this side of heaven, but I know there is value and power in offering up this suffering. Without taking a more "eternal" perspective, I think it would be so easy to fall quickly into despair.

A good friend shared her BFP news with me recently. She was technically IF (according to NaPro's definition of six cycles) but never mentally crossed over...she hadn't been TTC "that long." She knew of our IF from the beginning and was supportive, offering frequent prayers for us. I tried to be happy for her, and in some sense I was. I am glad she doesn't have to delve deeply into the sad world of IF—either the emotional side or the medical treatment side. But when she told me the news my first feelings were ones of hurt. She waited until nearly the end of her first trimester to tell me. Why did she wait so long? I had spoken with her more than once since she would have learned she was pregnant and specifically asked about the latest in her TTC attempts each time I spoke with her. I guess I could see not wanting to tell "people" (in a general sense) until after the first trimester in case there would be a miscarriage, but I thought I was closer to her than that. I wonder if this self-pity is a by-product of IF. In my head I sometimes think others should feel sorry for me because I'm IF, so I also feel sorry for me. Now here's another opportunity to feel sorry for myself. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea what's it like to decide when to share news of a first pregnancy. I guess if it were me, I'd want prayers from at least a few others as soon as I found out...especially with an increased risk of miscarriage (which she has). Maybe she was trying to protect my feelings by waiting to tell me...although the manner in which she shared the news with me was not sensitive to an IFer, so I doubt protecting my feelings was the reason. If you're super excited by your pregnancy, that means everyone you tell is going to be super excited as well...including your IF-for-three-years friend. (I did manage a fair amount of excitement in my response.) Apparently I never shared with her how hard pregnancy announcements are...or I didn't repeat it enough times before she got pregnant.

With her pregnancy announcement, it really hit me how left behind I feel. Just since last summer, there have been six weddings among our friends. Five of those six are pregnant or recently gave birth. We were TTC before most of them even started dating. I try not to be jealous, but sometimes I can't help it. IF is so hard.

As for this cycle, against my better judgement, I have hope. ;) (although I completely forgot to take Clomid at the beginning of the cycle...oops) I used to think that the more hopeful I was in the 2WW, the worse I'd feel when CD1 arrived. I guess for the most part, it has been true. But last cycle, for whatever reason, I had very little hope that the cycle would end in a BFP—with a week of TEBB staring me in the face, clearly something is still wrong—so AF arriving wasn't a surprise at all...yet I still felt as sad (and cried as much) as any other previous cycle. So if I'm going to cry when CD1 arrives regardless of my hope level, I might as well be hopeful now.

Do I know if the IV antibiotics got rid of my TEBB? No.

Am I putting way too much stock in quasi-pregnancy symptoms? Yes.

I have no breast tenderness at all. This is a change from usual. I always have a little bit of tenderness post-peak. Well, I'm pretty sure I always have it. I stopped writing it down a long time ago. But I still pay attention even if it's not recorded on paper. This could be just my brain trying to over-analyze things in an attempt to convince myself I could be pregnant. It has happened plenty of times before, and I've been wrong every time. haha Hopefully all the fun 4th of July festivities will distract me. :)

End-of-the-cycle limbo

You know how when you get to the end of your cycle, especially the day your period is due because it came that day for the past five cycles like clockwork, and you just wish AF would hurry up and start already so you can get it over with?  But there's a tiny irrational voice in your head that says there could be a glimmer of hope because, well, just because. It's irrational so it doesn't need to provide a reason. "Just because" is perfectly legitimate.  But you suppress that voice because you have zero early pregnancy symptoms, and you just KNOW that AF is coming because it always came before, and no amount of hoping this late in the game is going to mean a baby is growing in your uterus.  And you think there's really nothing different or special about this cycle except for about two weeks' worth of the new drug Cortef but that couldn't possibly have an effect yet, and you note the eight days of TEBB this cycle would preclude any chance of pregnancy because normal charts don't have TEBB, let alone eight days of it. But then you look back on the past couple days and realize you maybe were more tired than usual, so the hopeful voice says, "See?  I'm not so irrational." But you explain the fatigue away because you didn't get a good night's sleep or two.  And every time you go to the bathroom—which is more often than usual because you make excuses that you need to go again even though it's only been an hour since last time—you tell yourself, "There will be red," but then stare in disbelief at the white toilet paper as if your mind is playing tricks on you, because how could it possibly still be white this late in the day?  And you try to go back to your normal daily activities, all the while wondering if this could be THE cycle, but with the constant thought, "I'mnotgonnathinkaboutit.  I'mnotgonnathinkaboutit."  And you sigh because even if AF doesn't come today, you're going to feel the exact same way tomorrow—only with stronger feelings:  more impatience with AF's delay and simultaneously more hope.  And because you took HCG this cycle, nothing can be known definitively for 2-3 more days, which might as well be an eternity.  So you are doomed to this mental state until such time as AF decides to show up so you can start crying your eyes out...or until the mythical day comes when you could take your first ever pregnancy test (blood test, of course, due to the HCG).

That's where I'm at.

St. Perpetua and St. Felicity, pray for us!

(I thought maybe by posting this it would make AF come, similar to the phenomenon that some IFers experience in that taking a HPT speeds up AF's arrival time.)

UPDATE:  AF is here.

Confessions of an IF girl

Most of these topics are seemingly taboo on an IF blog and for good reason, I suppose. An IF girl can still dream though...

1. I own a glider (chair) and matching ottoman that are obviously designed for a nursery. They are white with pastel cushions. I obtained them for free; I don't remember if we knew we were IF at that point. I have plans to recover the cushions with a non-nursery-inspired material which would be suitable for the living room. Luckily they fit in the closet which is where they sit at present hidden under a stack of boxes.

2. I own maternity clothes, some of which were purchased after our IF diagnosis... I think my current collection includes: two pair of pants, a pair of sweatpants, a skirt, at least four shirts, and a spring coat. (Technically I am keeping an old winter coat that is too big for me now—for the singular purpose of using it during a winter pregnancy.) The pants I bought on super clearance before we even started TTC after a pregnant friend complained to me how expensive maternity pants are. At that time we were planning to start TTC soon (after my regular ob/gyn finished running some tests related to my unusual bleeding...wow, that was a long time ago). Then the unexpected happened which delayed our TTC plans quite a while. I knew circumstances could change quickly so whenever I went shopping I kept an eye out for non-maternity clothes that could be also worn during part of pregnancy (extra long or roomy in the front). I still do that. My only rule is that it has to look good on me now (and not just if I had a large belly). I may actually wear one or two maternity shirts as part of my normal wardrobe. Might as well make use of them, right? :) The maternity spring coat I wear all the time. I bought it because it's cute. And because I could wear it should I miraculously become pregnant...let's not kid ourselves here. You'd never guess it was maternity. I get compliments on it occasionally so I don't think anyone can tell. I really should cover up the label inside the collar though... One of these days I'm going to visit a friend who takes my coat to hang it up, sees the label, and asks me about it. :P

3. I am still not comfortable giving myself the HCG shots, even though I've been self-administering them for the past 9 cycles. I sit there—for a long time—with the filled syringe in hand and chicken out while attempting to stick it in my thigh. I am lucky the medicine doesn't completely go bad (while at room temperature) in the time it takes me to actually inject it. Thankfully my P+7 blood work has shown that the HCG is helping, so at least the P+5 shot is going well.

4. I have planned out exactly how I would tell DH if we became pregnant. I had the idea before we were IF but I didn't buy the required item for the announcement until after we were IF. It's hidden in a secret spot with the maternity pants and some rubber duckies we received as a wedding present.

5. As long as I'm not within about 5 days of CD1, I (usually) like looking at pictures other people's kids and babies. I recently stalked two friends' Facebook pages to see if they had given birth yet. Being bombarded with Christmas letters and pictures of babies in December was an exception—that was too much. I had DH prescreen them for me and remove all the pictures. I looked at the pictures when I could handle it (and one at a time). I really appreciated those that had a separate card. If we ever have kids, I hope I remember never to do the photocards. Sending a photo inside of a regular Christmas card is a better alternative, in my opinion.

6. DH and I sometimes talk about baby names. I started "the list" with my favorite names before I met DH. (Don't all single girls discuss this with their other single girlfriends and update each other when preferences change?) Of course once DH entered the scene I let him add his preferences. (awfully nice of me, huh?) I'm currently trying to convince let DH get used to my top boy name, which didn't get added to the list until recently. He's a choleric so these things take time. Maybe by the time we'd have the chance to use it DH would like it... Boys names are hard for me. I have a long list of girl names ready to go (all of which I love) but only one or two boy names, and I only like the boy names so-so.

7. DH has (not often but at least twice) looked at my stomach during the late post-peak phase and addressed the nonexistent-but-hoped-for baby by name. He uses two of my favorite girl names. He is eternally optimistic about a future pregnancy. I'm glad at least one of us is. If only his attitude might rub off on me a little... :)

I don't always live in dreamland but it's nice to visit every once in a while. :)

I'm not the only one who will admit to these things, right?

Dreams, meds, and Murphy's Law

This post is rather random.  You've been warned.  :)

1.  The only typical side effect with naltrexone, according to a PPVI nurse, is vivid dreams.  I experienced that a couple times when I first started LDN, but haven't noticed it since then even though my dose is much higher.  But this week, I had two very vivid dreams related to IF back to back.  In the first, DH and I adopted a baby girl.  We picked her up from an airport parking lot at night.  It was a very strange scenario, but I woke up and thought it was true for a moment.  It felt very real.  In the second, I was having an ultrasound during my post-peak phase and learned I was pregnant.  I was so excited by the news.  When I woke up, it felt as if I had truly had the ultrasound the day before.  Granted I was groggy from sleep, but it took a lot of mental effort to figure out (convince myself?) that I did not have an ultrasound and was not pregnant.  In the dream I was several days further along in my cycle than I am in real life so it really was not possible.  IF must be really getting to me if the new theme for my dreams is babies.

2.  DH and I started a second round of antibiotics—Zithromax.  It's in the same family of antibiotics as Biaxin, so I am optimistic that it might help.  Given the side effects I had from the last round of antibiotics, I was a little nervous about this one.  The package insert was comforting: “This drug is usually well tolerated.  Less than 1% of patients discontinued therapy due to side effects.  The most common side effects are diarrhea (5%), nausea (3%), and abdominal pain (3%).”  I was not happy to see that nausea was on the list though.  I told DH I'd take diarrhea over nausea.  He looked at me like I was crazy.  Since he couldn't remember the last time he was nauseous, I told him he must have forgotten how it felt because surely no one would pick nausea over diarrhea. ;)

At dinnertime on day 2 of the Zithromax, I started feeling mildly nauseous—just like how it started with the Flagyl on day 2.  I had flashbacks to last month.  I didn't think I could take three weeks of it again.  It's one thing to endure nausea and vomiting during pregnancy knowing that there will be a baby at the end of it, but to have to endure in order that you might possibly get pregnant (no guarantees, of course) is really tough.  I figured I would wait and see what happened the next day.  Fortunately, there has been no nausea since that night.  Thank you, God!

3.  I am a little extra hopeful this cycle.  I have no reason to think the Biaxin did any good because my TEBB lasted as long as usual (5 days).  But—perhaps irrationally—I am secretly hoping that maybe the drug did reduce inflammation enough in my uterus to allow implantation.  And I've been at my current dose of T3 for almost a month, so this is the first full cycle where it might have an effect...  I can make up scenarios all day long hoping this month will be the month, but that doesn't change reality.  I know that.  Please don't lock me up for insanity just yet.  :)  Plus it's Prayer Buddy time, and we all know how pregnancy rates among IFers increase dramatically during this time...  To me, new treatment + extra prayers = more hope. :)  (No pressure, Prayer Buddy.  haha)

The other reason for more hope this cycle is that I noticed breast tenderness for the first time in a long time, and it hasn't gone away yet. So my hope isn't completely irrational. ;)

4.  After ordering meds from Kubat's regularly for a while now, I've decided there is some version of Murphy's Law that applies.  It would go something like this:

If you need your refill in W days (e.g., W = 4 days), it will be delivered in X days, where X>W (e.g., X = 6 days).

If you don't need your refill for Y days (where 7 < Y < 14), it will be delivered in Z days, where Z << Y. (Z = 3 days to be exact)

Note: << means "much less than" here.

In other words, if you plan ahead, you'll get your refill quickly, and when you don't call until 4 days before you run out, you won't get the meds in time, even though 95% of the time you receive your meds in 3 days.

5.  I will be glad to be able to get my naltrexone locally instead of from Kubat's as soon as I'm up to 50 mg, which hopefully happens tomorrow when the nurse returns my call.  The PPVI protocol for increasing naltrexone has had me calling PPVI when I have 4-5 days of pills remaining to report how I'm feeling.  It takes a day for the nurse to return my call, meaning Kubat's gets the order for the increased dose when I have 3-4 days of pills left.  (I asked a nurse if I could call earlier than 5 days, and she said, "No, we have to follow the protocol."  I said in my experience, Kubat's sometimes needs more than 4 days...  She said 4 days is plenty.  Isn't it ironic that my meds didn't arrive in 4 days after that conversation?)  This stresses me out a little, so I just wanted to give you a heads up in case this would ever apply to you.  If you have the choice, give Kubat's a week to be on the safe side. :)

6.  DH and I are trying to focus on Advent even though everywhere we go is Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.  The only decorations we have up are the stockings and the Advent wreath.  We won't be putting anything else up including the tree until December 17th, the start of the O Antiphons and the "final" countdown to Christmas.  A dear priest friend of ours suggested this idea to us before we were married.  He reminded us that Catholics celebrate on a feast day and afterwards, not before.  I need that reminder to help prepare for Christmas.  It's been really nice to do our evening prayers with the Advent wreath lit.

7.  Tomorrow is St. Nick's Day.  I hung our stockings, and DH set out his shoes.  (He grew up with the shoe tradition, and I grew up with stockings, so we're trying to merge them.)  He asked me if I minded if he opened his presents in the morning while I was still sleeping.  He gets up much earlier than me and didn't want to wait until he gets home in the evening, even though this is how we've done it every year.  I said I wanted to open them together, so if he can get me out of bed at the crack of dawn, we can open them together.  Getting me out of bed might be a challenge.  I think he might resort to carrying me to the living room if I'm uncooperative.  He is really excited about the presents.  It's sweet. ;)

Homily insights and hope

A couple lines from recent homilies have given me a lot to think about, so I thought I'd share them here.

1.  Thanksgiving Day:  "If you're constantly thinking about what you don't have, you'll end up in misery."

The priest spoke about gratitude and focusing on the blessings you have in your life before he said this line I quoted.  When I first heard it, I was tempted to think it doesn't apply to me.  After all, it's natural and good to desire children, so when you're infertile, it makes sense that you would be thinking a lot about what you don't have (i.e. a child)...especially with the constant focus on diagnosis, treatment, timing of the cycle, etc.  Oh, how quickly I forget that this can be an all-consuming endeavor...which can lead to misery.  So the priest was right, and infertility is a prime example of his point.  I don't want to be miserable, but it's so hard not to think about my infertility when everywhere I look is another easily-achieved pregnancy or another baby.  As attractive as avoidance seems some days, I don't think it would be so practical to only associate with non-married people or those beyond their child-bearing years...as much as I want to right now.  Perhaps some convent or monastery would let us move in there?  ;)  Obviously I have to learn how to cope somehow without being completely consumed by the thought that we don't have children...  If only I could limit my infertility thoughts to x minutes per day.  Once I reach x minutes, then I wouldn't be allowed to think about it any more that day.  HA.  Imagine that.  What probably needs to change is how I think about infertility, which leads me to the next quote...

2.  First Sunday of Advent: "Advent is a season of hope.  How are you growing in the virtue of hope?"

Hearing that was a wake up call.  Or more a like a kick in the pants to get moving.  I had realized a while ago I was really struggling (failing) to have hope, but I haven't done anything about it.  Specifically I mean hope related to infertility.  It feels so vulnerable to put my desire for children before God and ask, "Please, God?"  On my braver days, thoughts may cross my mind like, "I know God will give us children one day," accompanied by an optimistic type of confidence.  But the reality is that He may say no...and that thought tends to stifle any optimism I had.  The thought of a future without children is not something I like contemplating.  I admit I don't dwell on it deeply—just enough to say to God, "Fine!  That's how you want my life (with this pain of infertility)?"  :<  [that's supposed to be an angry pout, complete with arms crossed]  I swear sometimes I have the spiritual maturity of a three year old.  hahaha ;)  When I think about it more, it leads to despair, the opposite of hope, and a constant fixation on the fact that I'm not getting what I think will make me happy.  Me. Me. Me.  This sounds like a recipe for misery (see quote #1).

So how do you cultivate hope, especially in the present circumstance of infertility?  (If anyone has ideas, please share them.)  My first thought is to try to focus less on the end result (baby vs. no baby) and more on what God is asking of me right now with this cross.  That's definitely easier said than done.  Have I mentioned that it doesn't take much to turn me into a crying mess this days?  I realize I have redefined hope to mean the end of my infertility.  How narrow is that??  But I suppose it's not surprising.  It's so easy to become self-absorbed with the situation in front of me which allows me to ignore the bigger picture.  Jesus didn't come into the world so I could be cured of my infertility...He came so we could spend forever with Him.  Okay, so I need to broaden my definition of hope.  That would be a good start.  Here are some excerpts from the Catechism:

"Hope is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ's promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit." (1817)

"The virtue of hope responds to the aspiration to happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man; it takes up the hopes that inspire men's activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude. Buoyed up by hope, he is preserved from selfishness and led to the happiness that flows from charity." (1818)

Don't you just love the Catechism?  :)

In a little prayer book I have, I found an examination of conscience on hope, which I think was exactly what I needed.  Right before the list of questions, it says, "...in God's providence, He allows us to fail in those areas in which He especially wants us to grow in virtue."  Okay, so it's really time to do something about this.  And what better time to work on hope than Advent.  Here is the examination:

• Do I immediately say a short prayer when I find myself getting discouraged?
• Do I daily say a short act of hope?
• Do I dwell on my worries instead of dismissing them from my mind?
• Do I fail in the virtue of hope by my attachment to the things of this world?
• Do I try to see God's providence in everything that "happens" in my life?
• Do I try to see everything from the viewpoint of eternity?
• Am I confident that, with God's grace, I will be saved?
• Do I allow myself to worry about my past life, and thus weaken my hope in God's mercy?
• Do I try to combine every fully deliberate action with at least a momentary prayer for divine help?
• How often today have I complained, even internally?

From Father Hardon's Catholic Prayer Book by Fr. John A. Hardon, S.J.>

shift my perspective, but I think it's going to take a lot of tiny, tiny steps.  When the waves of grief hit, they hit hard, and it's so difficult to look past the pain.  But I'm going to try.  :)  I have a feeling I will be referring back to this list of questions often...