i found this on a new friend sue’s site. it was written by Alison Kathleen Whitney. it SO describes what i’m feeling. maybe it will help those of you who don’t know what i’m going through.
A MOM WANNABE
I want to be a Mom. But I can’t. Instead, I am a Mom Wannabe.
I want to procreate. I want to conceive a child, naturally, with my husband, in the privacy of our home, in the spirit of love and passion, in the way God intended. But I can’t.
I want to discover that my period is several days late. I want to buy a pregnancy test and pee on a stick. I want to see a + sign. I want to cry tears of joy for the news we’d discovered. But I can’t. Instead, I cry tears of pain at random, for no reason and with no warning.
I want to experience morning sickness. I want my hormones to go haywire. I want the “pregnant glow”. I want to have my husband talk to my belly. But I can’t. Instead, I try not to look pregnant. I don’t buy clearance clothes for next year, “just in case”. I try to keep my emotions from going haywire. I dream that my husband talks to my belly.
I want to take prenatal vitamins. I want to eat for two. I want to schedule my first doctor’s visit. I want to sit in the waiting room with other pregnant women and know that I am one of them. But I can’t. Instead, I wonder if those pregnant women ever had problems conceiving. I think how cute they look as they waddle with their big bellies. I smile at babies that are not mine. I ache from loving someone I’ve never met.
I want to hear the doctor say “You’re Pregnant. Your progress is right on schedule.” But I can’t.
I want to surprise my parents with a new grandchild. I want to tell my friends and family our good news. I want my life to change overnight. I want to read “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”. But I can’t. Instead, I have no news to tell. I realize my life hasn’t changed in years. I read “When Empty Arms become Heavy Burdens”.
I want to monitor the progress. I want to see ultrasounds. I want to hear the heartbeat. I want to watch our baby grow. I want to feel the kicks, but I can’t.
I want to decorate the nursery. I want to childproof our home. I want to shop for adorable, soft, tiny outfits. I want to shop at Gymboree. I want to save money for the baby’s future.
Instead, I imagine a crib in an empty room down the hall. I avoid baby stores in the mall. We spend our money on doctor’s appointments, tests and high-tech procedures. We spend our money on a dream. We are left with an empty bank account. We are left with empty arms.
I want to share the experience with my pregnant friends. I want to compare symptoms. I want to be the guest of honor at a baby shower. But I can’t. Instead, I watch my friends get pregnant quickly. I watch their bellies grow, attend their showers, see their pictures and try to be a good friend. I watch their lives change and our friendships change in front of my eyes.
I want my belly to drop. I want my water to break. I want contractions. I want an epidural. I want my husband by my side and my family in the waiting room. I want the pushing. I want the pain. I want to hear the cry. But I can’t. Instead, I feel a different pain. I hear my own cry. Yes, I even hear the cry of my husband which hurts more than I had ever imagined.
I want to hold our baby in my arms, with tears of joy streaming down our faces. I want to experience the miracle of birth, thinking “We did it”, but knowing that God did it. But I can’t. Instead, I hold my husband in my arms with tears of sorrow streaming down our faces and wondering what God’s plan is for us and why we have to go through this.
I want to pray that one extra special blessing be added to my life. And I do. I pray my 1000th unanswered prayer to God and hope this time He answers. I pray for the miracle of life that only God can give. I pray that someday soon He will give it to us.
I want to be a mom, but I can’t. Instead, I am right where God wants me to be: thankful for our blessings, searching out His will, basking in His grace, trusting in His perfect plan, praying for a change in status.
From a mom wannabe, to the mom I WANT to be.
Alison Kathleen Whitney