It's official. We've officially tried to get pregnant in every month of the year now. Time to give Nov/Dec a second shot. Hey, maybe I'll get a hell of a Christmas present.
I'm trying to remind myself that someday I'll look back on this day, and other days like it, these "day the heart is breaking" days, and see it was so worth it. I'm trying to remind myself that this is one of the rainy days that someday, I'd be willing to walk right back through all over again. Because it was worth it. (Yes, I'm pulling from that song again, "Here" by Rascal Flatts). I'm dropping another heartache in the Offering Plate. I'm trying.
Am I being petulant? Impatient? Demanding? Should I just cool it and be calm and stop fussing? Am I blowing this out of proportion? I mean, yes, there are far worse things that could be happening.
I just feel like my children already exist somehow. That they're out there somewhere and I just want to see their faces. I do not want to wait another 5 weeks to hope again.
Well, enough of this. Here was my, "not pregnant, tears on the pillow" post. There is a roast to make, and a house to clean, and laundry to fold and work to be done. Maybe I'll start the day off with a Mimosa.
3 comments:
I realize that there's nothing I can offer to soothe the gaping hole of hurt in your heart. There are no words.
But I am compelled to offer this to you: your post sparked a memory in me. I recall some very late nights in front of a computer, typing potent streams of dialogue back and forth with a young woman who wanted - no, DEMANDED - answers to questions that she couldn't even understand. She was focused and intentional and even mostly RIGHT about everything she sensed and saw and raged against, but God remained somehow mute as she shook her fist at the sky. She did not get the answers she longed for in those moments.
That same woman kneeled in a beautiful church not too many years later, beside the man she probably never even dared to imagine during those difficult, broken years. They clasped hands, broke bread and committed themselves to one another. It almost defied belief, as that girl was offered arms of love, acceptance and safety. And all those questions seemed to find their answers - not just in the man, but in the love and self-assurance and peace that centered itself in their hearts.
In your darkest moments, God has always met you on the other side. He has proved faithful. There is no reason to believe that He will not do the same for you again. And again. And again.
Be petulant. Be impatient. Be demanding. But realize that the opportunity for transformation lies beyond sperm and egg and in the further crafting of your character. Let that live out there, somewhere beyond your focus on what you think is right for you, right now.
Because there's a slim possibility that God has another plan in terms of timing.
I love you.
(((hugs)))
I know I don't have all that much credibility anymore, but I remember.
And a mimosa for breakfast sounds lovely.
Bah. Sorry about that.
Christmas sounds good though!
(don't even get me started on the mammy/daddy news story!)
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