One word to describe my life: uncontrollable. The problem with that is that I have spent years of my life tricking myself into thinking that I had total control over things. It was essential. I needed that feeling of control for my "safety". What now? Now that I face yet another month, another week, another day, another hour, another minute, another second, waiting. My heart aches. It's the unknown that gets me. If I just had something to grasp, to keep me a float while I await this due date that never comes. A due date. Life is measured in time. With a due date you know if you're early, or late, or perfectly on time. Without one there is no measure of your progress. No measure of how far you've come, and how much further you've to go.
I feel like have this secret life, my own personal hell....this is where I live:
I NEVER let more than 10 minutes pass without looking at my phone to make sure that I didn't miss a 716 call.
I JUMP with hopeless expectation EVERY time my phone rings. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
I can't walk through my own house without feeling like an inmate at San Quentin. The baby gear that sits unused glaring at me, taunting me reminds me that I am trapped, with my release in the hands of others.
I feel guilty many days because I should be happy with what God has given me. With that little angelic presence who said to me today, quite randomly: "If you weren't my Mommy, I would be so sad I wouldn't ever come out of my room."
I refuse to get our family pictures done because they will feel too empty.
I feel guilty because some days I think I spend more time thinking about the child that is to come, than the ones that are already here.
and then there was this one other thing. this one connection that felt so right. maybe it was going to lead to our child. maybe it wasn't. either way, i was okay with that. it was more about the force, the momentum with which innocent exchanges just made sense. where something beyond my control tells me to stick with it. the reason is not yet clear- it quite possibly has nothing to do with bringing our baby home. it doesn't matter. what matters is that something tells me this is important. this is significant. so i'm going to pay attention.
6 comments:
Hugs to you my friend! I also suffer the Mommy guilt. The 'I should be happy with what I have been blessed with' guilt. It is a constant struggle. No worries, I'm here if you need me. :)
You describe the wait so perfectly.
Stay strong, and believe.
Teri your post really struck a chord in me. The waiting is such a hard thing, especially when it is open-ended. I never anticipated the waiting/profiling to be as difficult as it was.
I think of you guys often-- You guys seem like such a fun family and I know your little one is out there waiting to come home to you.
Thanks so much for all of your encouragement. The best thing that I can do is to remind myself that I can't control this. Somehow knowing that gives me the feeling of MORE control.....
Oh, I really get that! I spend so much time obsessing over this never ending wait for Emma, that sometimes I KNOW I am not appreciating what I already have right in front of me! I too have been waiting to go have a family photo taken with my favorite outdoor photographer because I thought Emma would be here and I wanted her in the photos. So, our last really good family photo was when Hannah was one. She's 3 now. HMMMMM!. It seems like we can't put our lives on hold while we wait on baby #2, but how do we go on when someone is missing???
teri, thanks for your refreshing openness! i know our wait was pretty short, but from the day of the first call i was on tenterhooks, obsessing about the location of my cell phone at all times. it's like listening to the Jaws theme but it never reaches a crecendo...until that one magic day. it's coming, teri, and what a day it will be! - gen
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