Is this whining? Isn't it all?

"Those who do not learn from the past, are condemned to repeat it" or something like that, or at least, that's what my history teacher would tell us. A lot of times, I feel like this journey into adulthood/wanna-be parenthood is nothing but a mindless trek in a circle-shaped desert (cue the Israelite reference). Most of what I have to say, I've already said, but until I can see some ridiculously huge changes, it's just where I am.
I'm so frustrated.
When I first began my life as an undercover blogger, I was pregnant. The original blog, held on MySpace, eventually hit 10000 hits and then I took it down. I re-started it on Facebook, and then, eventually, came to BlogSpot. To go back, and read the blogs from beginning through today, is a ride on a rollercoaster of crap, really--that's the only word I have for it. Sure, that's depressing, but what else am I going to say? What, life is fantastic? I'm achieving my heart's desire? I feel so totally blessed? I may be a decent writer, but if I can sell you that, I need to find a career selling swamp land in Florida. No, life is NOT fantastic--I'm NOT getting what I want--I'm NOT seeing ANYTHING come into fruition, and no, I don't feel particularly "blessed."
I know, I know (cue my mother's voice) I have a lot to be thankful for. I'm employed, my husband is employed, I don't have a car payment, and my dog is happy to see me. This life, though--this isn't what I bargained for, and I can't quite see the forest through the trees.
I'm disappointed, and I can't shake it.
I feel like Debbie Downer, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm not happy-go-lucky Cassidy, that I'm not giggly or quirky or energetic, or any of the personality traits I so freely exhibited pre-11/06 (okay, sometimes I am, but it used to be all the time). I'm sorry that I've become cynical, that I've become angry, and that in my disappointment, I've become ungrateful.
My New Year's resolution is to somehow, someway, find a way to become thankful for where I am right now. I don't know if that's even possible, but I have to find a way. If I can't become truly grateful for where God has me, I will never get over being so damn mad at Him for ruining my life.
Yeah, I just said that. Sue me (cue lightning strike).
He gives, and He takes away. And He has.
There will come a point in my life where I look back at where I am right now, and I read these words, and say to myself, "Wow, Cassidy--you were so bitter, so angry. Yet God loved you even then...look at how He worked everything out for the good you have right now!" I know that time will come.
It is not right now.
I have faith.
That doesn't mean that I have to be happy here, in this place, at this time. I'm not.
God woos us--His Holy Spirit draws us in, holds us close--He wraps His arms around us, even when we're covered in thorns. I am prickly right now--I don't want anyone to know how much I am really in a pit right now, and I sure as heck don't want anyone to tell me how great God is. We sang a song on Sunday that talked about how God is faithful, and someone came up to me and very kindly said, "I saw you singing that--I know that was very hard." That was so loving, for her to say that to me--she gets it. She knows that I can sit here and tell you, "God is faithful. God loves you. He loves me," and I can choke on it. I can choke on it, not because I don't believe it's true--I know it is--but because I don't feel it right now. He feels as far away as Neptune, and I don't understand why I've had to go through these last four years of hell.
I am not thankful for this. I am not thankful that my daughter died, that I can't have any more children, that it would take some unspeakable miracle for things to be "fine." I'm not. Don't give me crap about this building character, because that's a cliche people say when they're too proud to admit that they don't know what kind of encouragement to offer. The friends who have been the most awesome through this have either gone through it themselves, or have been through a deep enough loss that they understand the stupidity of triteness.
So, that's my goal for this year. Find a way to be thankful in the midst of the four-year-long desert that's been my life. Find a way to be grateful, to a God that I'm in love with, but am very distraught with (distraught = angry, confused, lost, disoriented, frustrated--you get the point).
As far as children go, things are up in the air. In September, I was on a high--a combination of an awesome womens' retreat, with the approval of my OB to try to get pregnant. October/November marked the 4th anniversary of Hannah's birth/death, and December threw a curveball at us when my cardiologist told me I wouldn't survive a pregnancy due to my heart condition. Yesterday, a second/third opinion confirmed it. I told God on the way home today that I would really like something happy to happen--I need something uplifting, so I'm holding out for that. I'm in a rut, and I don't like it.
Find something to be thankful for, and praise God for it. That's my goal. Every day, something new, that isn't trite (i.e., "thank you for my T-shirt...clouds...snow..." etc.). In finding the things I can be thankful for, and am thankful for, perhaps this haze of "crapitude" will dissipate and I can get back to being who I know I am (instead of Sad Cassidy. I don't like her much, but she won't shut up). I need to come to terms with where I am, and find a way to be thankful, or else when the time comes to get out of this place, I'll be in such a self-focused fog that I won't see the exit signs. I've got to get my focus back. The disappointments of men can't possibly be as crushing when they're seen through the eyes of a thankful heart, right? It's got to get better....it has to.
It will. One foot in front of the other...because if I stop, I'm on quicksand.