Falling

I am about to share a painful reality of my life.  I have put off talking about it to anyone for so many reasons, and just recently felt perhaps it was time to face it.  I spoke a bit to my best friend T about it when she was here, but still was in the "It's okay" mode.  But then I went to this amazing conference and it just hit me.  God met me there this weekend and hit me with it hard.  But the beauty is that in the end I felt relief as I collapsed in His arms.  

The reason that G and I do not have children is not that we do not want them.  We do.  Desperately.  No matter how many times I tell you that we are wanting to put them off, don't believe it.  The reality is that we are unsure if we will be able to have them without adoption.  The reality is that what I was wanting to put off was having to truly find out if I am incapable of it.  I thank God every day that since I was very little I have always known I would adopt.  It was a desire given to me from a young age, and it is the one light in the dark tunnel that I face any time I even think about starting a family. 

We have tried.  We didn't do anything to prevent it for a year.  There were normal months when it was clear it hadn't happened, and in the midst of an international move we were able to make excuses.  But then there were the couple times when I was exhausted.  When certain foods just looked wrong to me.  And then I'd be late.  And within a week or so I'd end up with excruciating cramps and (sorry, TMI) bleeding far worse than was normal, enough that once G actually got scared.  I was afraid to call it a miscarriage.  I felt unworthy of getting to use such a big word for something that at the time seemed such a small thing.  We never got the positive, the announcing it with excitement.  We got hope, and then got to watch as the hope slowly slid right through our fingers.  I had always joked that this baby thing would be a piece of cake, that I had "baby making hips." And yet suddenly I felt like a failure of a woman.  

In these dark hours I was unable to really talk to my husband.  And I got angry that he didn't bring it up.  I got angry that I felt I couldn't talk about it.  And I got angry, because I didn't even know what on earth I would say.  "I'm sorry"?  So instead we made excuses.  We were busy.  I'd been stressed.  And then as we began to socialize more we tried to convince ourselves that now simply wasn't a good time, and that we'd put it off longer.  That we were enjoying our freedom, and with big smiles would go out, socialize, snap photos of what a wonderful life we were leading.  Never mind that I often find my eyes trailing after a toddler as they walk or laughing at something a nearby child did. 

We often speak about adoption.  We even went to the introductory class for the foster to adopt program this summer.  Turns out we don't really know enough people in this area well enough that I would have them be a referral for me.  It hit me hard, I was so prepared to welcome a child into our home, and instead I got to welcome in sadness.  We've contacted a couple international adoption agencies.  With G deploying it's all basically inquiries for now, but next year we plan to begin stashing away cash in our Love and Grace account (the name we use for God's money....tithing, and also for the cost of an adoption, something we feel called to).  But we still did not speak about that big pink elephant in the room.

Well Friday I broke down.  I spoke about it briefly to a few people, something that normally would have been incredibly hard suddenly came like a river.  I attended a MOB (Mothers of Boys) meeting with my roomie just to listen to stories.  I explained to one of the leaders that I didn't have any yet, but that our hope is that within the next 2 years we want to adopt a little boy from Africa.  She told me, "Then you're already a mother of a boy".... I cried.  And when I won a coffee cozy, yes, my eyes got wide like a deer in the headlights, I felt guilty for winning, and eventually had to leave.  

I went back to my room, called my husband and let it flow out of me.  I cried hard enough that night that my eyes were swollen the next day (something I can't remember having happened for a decade).  I told him that it wasn't okay.  That I wasn't okay.  That I wanted a little boy who looked just like him, who told long exaggerated stories just like him.  And that not having that was not okay.  I told him I was tired of making excuses and saying that it was okay.  And he agreed.  We spoke like we hadn't been able to for over a year.  I had been trying to be strong, to never cry about it.  God was in that hotel room with me, allowing me to fall apart because it was what I needed. 

So what now?  Now we talk.  Now we make an appointment with a doctor to check me out.  Now we pray.  I didn't want to talk about it, because I know worse stories and I felt unworthy of my own heartache.  I felt it was so small compared to the troubles I know others have and  I didn't want pity.  But I will take prayers.  Not just that it will be possible, but for strength if it is not. 

Enough

First, as I went to post this I realized that I seemed to have lost a follower after my post last night which has to be the oddest thing ever.  Call me perplexed as to what I possibly could have said to offend someone!  But anyhoo, onto the real post!

I have had enough.  This relationship has gone on too long.  In fact, I think it might possibly qualify as abusive and yet I kept going back.  But enough is enough.  I'm over it, through, fini.  

I threw my scale in the trash today.  

Honestly, we were never the best of friends.  When I liked the numbers I didn't trust it, and when I didn't I felt so low.  I kept saying that I needed to focus on how my clothes fit and for the past 6 months I've done mainly that.  But I realized the other day that even though my clothes fit well, and I felt okay beforehand, after deciding to weigh myself I was nearly in tears.  Which sucks.  So today I made the decision to just throw it out.  

And no, I didn't donate it.  It was a cheap scale that has never been as accurate as the one at the gym, and honestly I didn't feel like contributing to someone else's low self-esteem.  I am sure there are people out there whose weight is a health risk and they need them, but for the most part I think scales should not be in homes.  They quickly become an obsession (I used to weigh myself every time I went in the bathroom.).  They are pretty much evil little self-esteem suckers.  

Have you ever considered throwing yours out?  What is stopping you?

Only Today

I had a post all ready to go about this weekend.  It was angsty, because well, it was a mess.  But G and I decided this weekend after a very long talk that our new mantra is Only Today.  As in, what if you have only today to make sure your spouse knows they are everything to you?  What would you say?  What would you do?  What would you let slide that normally would annoy you?  


Today I stayed up all night finishing the care packages I was sending out.  G is going to mail them this afternoon after class.  So I was up and decided, hey, the poor guy is asleep on the couch because he didn't want to go to bed without you, and so you need to get it together. So instead of watching The Biggest Loser (oh my god!) I put together a lunch for him, then cut a note and envelope out of brown paper, sealed it and left a message to not open until he was at work.  I then placed said envelope where he would see it above the alarm panel as he armed it on his way out.  After that I boiled water for tea, and made scrambled eggs, Heinz beans and toast for breakfast.  That left plenty of time to lie in bed and just relax with him before he had to go to work.  And he appreciated it, letting me know how nice it was, since usually I am still groggy (if not full on asleep) when he leaves in the a.m.   


The last 2 1/2 years of our marriage are in the past.  Done.  Over.  We cannot go back and fix them, and with so many wonderful things in the future, who the hell would want to waste the time?  There is no guarantee of tomorrow.  The way the pick-up drivers around here drive (we have gotten pushed into another lane more than once because they chose to pretend they couldn't see our black vehicle in broad daylight) one could slam into us and that would be it.  We only have today.  Moments to make count.  And yes it sounds cheesy like a damn Hallmark card and yet it's a cliche because it's true.  Because every day I deal with my own mortality and we both needed to see our marriage in that light.  


We've got huge plans for the next 5 years.  Plans that we made with the other in mind.  Plans that are dreams we are making reality.  But if those 5, 10, 16 years never come?  I want to make sure G knows that he means the world to me.  That I believe he can change because he wants to and that he is worth me changing.  We each are lucky we found someone who loves the best and worst of us.  And we need to say it.  Not tomorrow, not next week, today.


If you only had today, who would you let know you loved them?  That you appreciated having them in your life?  What the hell are you waiting for?