I don’t even allow myself to dream or imagine what my kids would really look like, or what it would be like to hold them, see them, name them, go through the whole thing, anymore. I try not to hold those images in my mind because I don’t have hope. ( I was thinking I don’t want to hope, but my fingers typed I don’t Have hope. Wow. ) I don’t Have … hope. Not for longer than a few seconds at a time.
I fill my life with other people’s children and then I don’t have room to dream about what my kids would or could be like. To be a mom would be a great test and challenge to rise up and meet everyday. I know it will be hard and exhausting. But I have spent my life preparing for that moment. For each stage of a child’s development. I have immersed myself in babysitting, childcare, to being a nanny just so that I can say that I know a lot about kids. I have loved other peoples kids so deeply.. And purely at that. But it just fans the flame of my grief sometimes. I know that other people have hope and even faith that I will be a mom someday. And that is comforting for a moment. But, while you are waiting for redemption or resolution that is not guaranteed to come, it makes you crazy. Pray for me. Pray for Peace. Patience. Hope. Faith. The foundational things that slip through my fingers in the night.
Now that I have some words to pin on my grief it is easier for me to process and re-process. This analogy still rings true.. My grief is like a well with in me that fills up and overflows every now and then. After that, I can cope for a little while. Sharing this with my husband has helped him understand why this issue can’t be dormant in me. Somehow he can choose not to think about things until he can do something about them. Our communication about Infertility has gotten much better after three and a half years. Sometimes I soak his shoulder with tears and he knows now that this is just what I have to do. I tried to hide my grief from him for a while because it hurt him when I brought it up. We are so different and our mix is as full of friction as it is harmony. He has faith. He is determined. And that gives me the most comfort. I can’t wait to see what our combination will create.
Thank you God for the things I’m learning through this wound.
Re-confirm in me the promises you’ve made to me.
My identity is not lost because I am not yet a mom.
Remind me of who I am.
Joelle-
p.s.
My identity is not all wrapped up in being a mom and I know it.. there is more to me.
