I believe fully that God puts desires on our heart.
I also pray daily that my wants/desires/will is that of God's.
So logically, I hope that the desire for another child to raise and love is from God and therefore God will be faithful, but logic doesn't get me too many places.
I also don't like the fact that people feel like I am being greedy by doing another cycle. Greedy for more when I already have so much with Luke. I wrestle with those emotions regularly. I don't need them rubbed in my face.
In the interest of not saying anything because I can't say much nice at all, I just remain quiet.
But, my heart is weary. This world is so miserable sometimes.
My uncle died a few hours ago. He'd been sick. Cancer. Complications. Withered away. Didn't even get to see him before he died. I hate cancer. I hate death. I hate irony. This came in an email less than an hour after he died:
By now, you may have heard from a smiling, happy someone who received your recent gift(s) (order #98977341) to Gerald "Butch" Mullins arrived. It was delivered on Wednesday, 08/29
No, no...I didn't hear from a smiling, happy someone. He was already dead.
My sister is very, very sick. Her lupus should have killed her 10 years ago, according to her doctors. She just started what her doctors are considering her last-ditch effort to continue living.
I'm 6 weeks away from what should have been a very joyous day. Another baby boy in our lives. Pictures of Luke and a sweet baby brother that I would cherish forever. Instead, I'm in the middle of another cycle. And being judged for it, to boot. So over judging.
Today, this came in the mail.
I have always been a big supporter of St. Jude's, and one of the reasons I fell in love with my sorority in college was because our philanthropy was Childhood Cancer. But seeing this, today, made my eyes sting with tears and my throat choke up.
I loved that little girl we never got to adopt. I loved her before I knew her. Knew who she was. What she looked like. I lovingly lingered over just the perfect name for her. (Funny, this post was written 4 years ago, and yet...nearly the same things going on in the political arena...)
I mothered her the best I could...and mourn that to some, it was just a failed adoption. To me...loss of an entire lifetime I was planning.
And here's this little Emma Grace, fighting cancer.
Have I mentioned I hate cancer?
I hate that people in this world (including me, I'm not judging) take SO MUCH FOR GRANTED while others literally wither away to the point of death simply because they had no food or water.
I hate that my biggest worry sometimes is what on EARTH I am going to try to feed that picky eater of mine and yet, and my heart aches to think of other mothers like me who would give anything just to have crumbs for their babies to eat.
I hate that babies are fighting for their lives every single minute...innocent little souls who have been long prayed for and loved...and I hate knowing all too well that any minute, the little white coffin may be needed.
I am beyond grateful for the things I have and the life I live. I know very well how blessed I am.
But my heart is weary because that knowledge also has the flip side--Knowing how hard life is for so, so many others. The weight of the suffering in this world, even though not all mine, just seems crushing.
This is not where I belong.