Man, seems like I say that all the time.
Wait, I do.
I'm having a rough day. I'm trying, trying, trying to be hopeful about next Thursday (and the 2ww is excruciating) and yet, torturing myself at the same time by looking up everything known to man about FETs, including images of blastocysts and comparing poor little Yellow Fish to good looking ones and not so good looking ones. I stopped doing that, actually, because he/she seems to fall in company more with the not so good looking ones and THAT'S not helping.
I can see mom rolling her eyes right this second about me being on the computer and telling me, "Get off the Internet!"
(Don't fret...I know she reads it...she's probably laughing because I bet I'm right!)
Today would have been my dear, sweet Grandma Gosnell's 97th birthday. I miss her so much, still. A year ago, I wrote about her. As much as I love her, I can't bring myself to do it today because I'm already stock full on things to cry about, and can't add to the load. I am guaranteed of this: If in Heaven, we are aware of the relationships we have with each other on earth, then there is no doubt in my mind that she has been stuck to my little Matthew like glue. Glue.
I have come across so, so many women who are suffering through hard 'anniversaries' in March and I am just overwhelmed. My heart breaks for them because I just know how much my heart hurts and I just weep for theirs hurting.
I am very blessed to be part of an amazing (though heartbreaking) Bible Study and seriously, last night, my heart just sobbed. Literally. I'm sure that all the hormones and missing Matthew certainly doesn't make me very tough when listening to each woman, but honestly...I was overcome with SUCH SORROW.
There is just SUCH, SUCH SORROW in this world.
I miss John. He has been a Marine for over 13 years. In all that time, I *may* be able to count on both hands the times that I TRULY was panicked and thought something was going to or had happened to him. I ALWAYS worry about him (especially since he's such an aggressive driver, and YES, that is a purposeful statement aimed at shaming him into not being so...) but when we got married and I realized I was marrying a man whose job was to defend our country (in a metal vehicle that defies gravity, no less) I made my peace with God that whatever happened, I could NOT worry about it or I'd literally go insane.
And, truthfully, I was naive. I know it sounds awful, but really... OTHER people's husbands die in the military. You pray for and go to funerals for OTHER people's husbands. Though you know there is always a chance, it doesn't REALLY happen to you, does it?
Yeah...well, that's sort of the same thing, the same innocence (protective shield, defense mechanism, whatever you want to call it) a lot of women go through with pregnancy. You *HEAR* about terrible and sad stories, but that won't be you, right? At least that's what everyone TOLD me.
I, unfortunately, have always lived my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.
When it does, you almost feel (and I know this sounds weird if you luckily live life NOT as Worst-case Scenario Sue) vindicated. You want to scream, "SEE! SEE! I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU IT HAPPENS. I TOLD YOU. I'm not neurotic or crazy, I'm realistic. Horrible things DO happen."
So now, experiencing something so rare that even our medical professionals are still in shock over, I have lost that comfort of knowing that odds are, John will be just fine.
Odds were...EXCELLENT odds, mind you...odds were that I'd be cuddling my 3 and a half month-old this very minute.
So not only do I miss John, I regularly wonder, as he walks out the door each morning, if I will ever see him again. If I will be left not only as a mother without her child but as a wife without her husband.
I'm not sleeping well...I fall asleep ok (after midnight mostly, so maybe NOT that ok!) but for the last week or so I've been waking up around 5 am and tossing and turning for a couple more hours. Anxiety. As I wake up, I INSTANTLY chant to myself, "Be anxious for nothing..." but then I realize that I was very, very anxious over the summer about Matthew because I'd just heard a heartbreaking story of a couple losing their firstborn to a cord accident at birth, and I just panicked. The next week, in church, we went over Philippians 4, and on August 9, 2009, I dated my Bible in my re-recognition of not being anxious about Matthew. He was going to be fine and that study of that verse that day reaffirmed that to me.
I still try to cling to that verse, but now...it's really, really hard to cling with my whole heart. In fact, I just can't...my whole heart doesn't exist any more--it's missing such a big, big piece.
I guess I'm just feeling more broken today than normally.
Little Yellow, I'm so sorry if you have dug yourself in and can't wait for me to take the test next week so I know that. I'm sorry that I'm doubting that will be the case, and I'm praying every time I close my eyes for you to be with me. I was on my knees last night begging God to help make the dream of you the reality. I begged Him to let me be pregnant with you and carry you, deliver you and raise you. I'm begging Him this very second.
Seems like I do a lot of that these days too...