Crazy Little Thing Called Faith

This is a story that starts out like most others. I noticed that there was something wrong with me.

Haha. Shut up, stop laughing and let me finish.

You see, while in college I was a bit, how can I put this, fat. Yes, I know. Shocking. I tried to lose weight and it was happening (at a very slow pace). Very very slow. Like, I could have done a lot more to speed up the process.

Then one day, I started working on this tallship. And man, was that amazing! It was also very challenging in a lot of ways (we'll talk about that later). Regardless, I noticed that I was in great shape and I was losing weight because of my very active lifestyle.

Yes!

Sadly, I noticed that there was still some of that stubborn belly fat that I had. And for some reason, as I lost weight and gained muscle everywhere else, that stubbornly stayed put. And went from being slightly hard to rock solid.

Is that normal?

Nope. My friends and parents told me, that's not normal. I was sick of being asked when I was due (yes, and for the record, THAT IS NEVER AN OKAY QUESTION TO ASK UNLESS SOMEONE HAS TOLD YOU THEY ARE EXPECTING!!!) But the real clincher for me that "something was not right" was when it hurt to lay on my stomach or to poke it.

I know, I shouldn't have poked it.

But still. Not okay.

I finished out my contract. My mom had, when I asked, made an appointment for me at the doctors office. The doctor was baffled. "Are you sure you're not pregnant?" "If I am, it's an Immaculate Conception." Ok. Something was definitely wrong. But what? My doctor was baffled.

The next day, I had bloodwork done. Then a pelvic and stomach ultrasound. You know, the kind where you drink 32 ozs of water and then they poke your bladder and you have to pee really badly? Yup. That kind.

I used the restroom. Then I was given 32 more ounces of contrast, and had a CT Scan. I was finally able to use the restroom again, drink some coffee, and was sent over to talk to my doctor.
She walked in and informed me that I have an extremely large, rare and benign tumor on one of my ovaries, like the ones in National Geographic Specials. So large, they can't tell which of my ovaries it's on. Apparently, the radiologist hadn't seen anything like that in 10 years and everyone was very excited.

Glad I'm a medical uh, marvel?

Also, I am in great shape-my bloodwork was great and I'm actually quite slim-aside from the 20 pound tumor on my ovaries. 

Honestly, I was kind of relieved. Once she said benign and I realized it wasn't a parasite or a watermelon or something like that. I was kind of expecting surgery anyway, but it was a bit of a surprise.

So, there were some mixed feelings at this news. First, tumor that is not cancerous? Awesome. Not a giant snake inside me like in Terra Nova? Awesome. Not the creepy baby alien thing from Prometheus or Alien vs Predator? Double awesome. Tumor? Less awesome. Kind of terrifying, actually.

I mean, I wonder, if I hadn't been fat, would I have caught it earlier? Did I cause it? What can I do to make sure it never happens again? Is there anything I can do? Does this relate to my insomnia or constipation? (Yup, we're going there. I'm talking about my ovaries, for Pete's sake. You all can handle constipation).

Being on the ship saved me, in some ways, because if I hadn't lost weight I wouldn't have noticed. God works in mysterious ways. HE sent me to the ships, sent me enough money that I don't have to work this summer and that I was able to wait to get home so I could go to the hospital my dad works at, so I could afford it. Yup, God is good. All the time.

I'm also nervous about something else. Ever since I was little, I have wanted to be a mom. Yes, I know I'm a 24 year old spinster. Shush. But that has always been something that I wanted to be when I grew up-a wife and mother. I also always thought this was something in God's plan for me.

They told me that they would try to save my ovaries. My surgery will be done by a General Surgeon and someone from OBGYN. Which is very reasuring. But try. They said try. Uh...try?

Excuse me? See, I have this plan and it involves lots and lots of adorably precocious children that look like my handsome husband and I. With no ovaries, how is that going to happen?

Well, it isn't.

This may be just idle worrying, but it made me think. Can I trust God with that? Can I trust God with this changing future?

The answer is yes. I'm not saying that no tears were shed, but I reached the conclusion that if God wants me to have children of my own body, I will. Sarah and Abraham weren't supposed to be able to, I know other people who have had "impossible children," and I have no reason to believe that God wouldn't do the same for me.

If someone doesn't want to marry me for that reason, he's not the guy for me anyway. And I can always adopt. There are plenty of children out there who are unwanted that my future husband and I can love.

So, the things that I have looked at the most during this are as follows. First, am I willing to trust God with my future, even when it may go in a direction that I may not be ready for, to give up what I thought I was preparing for? And secondly, has God ever let me down? The answers are Yes and a resounding No.

God has never let me down and He never will. I have been trusting Him (with varying degrees of success) for my whole life. Why would I stop doing so now? Just because things might get harder? Because my life might take an unexpected turn? Oh, wait...But seriously, that would be stupid.

"I got a peaceful, easy feeling, I know HE won't let me down, 'cause I'm already standing on solid ground"-Amazing Grace to the music of the Eagles.

I'm going out on a limb here, but I know that God has a plan for my life and whether or not I have ovaries, He's going to love me and lead me.

And where He leads me, I will follow.