I found my journal the other day. I had no idea where I put it when I unpacked but I opened a drawer a few weeks ago and voila, there it was. I wrote “The Plan” on the front…at one point I think I started it in order to get in shape and track what I ate and worked out. But those pages were quickly torn out. I kept the same cover, The Plan was to somehow “get over” not getting pregnant. Or help me through it? I can’t remember why I didn’t just start a new one. Maybe I just liked the size of the journal. Its one of those notebooks leftover from when I lived in Belgium and the pages are easily torn out without any evidence of its previous life…
Anyway. I would wrote to our baby. I wrote to him* before we knew him (I obviously did not know Sam was a he), in our waiting. And I yelled at God. The stuff that’s not polished enough for sharing with the whole world but that needs to get out before it seeps into all parts of your life. Not polished enough but I am choosing to share it here, now? Some of it at least.
“…I didn’t dream this would be me. I couldn’t dare think about it…I never through I’d have nothing. Maybe its because I have no faith. I have no strength. I have no patience. I. have. no. hope. Please take this cross away. I think you overestimate me. I can’t do this. Can I?”
“Here I am a month and a day later…in the same position, yet not at the same time. Its Ash Wednesday. I gave up my vices on the internet and meat with Mike, in hopes that I can face reality and also grow closer to Mike and God. This is a stressful time for all of us right now and I know the added stress of not having a child just makes everything worse. I’m doing a Bible reading a day on prayer. The first is from 1 Samuel, and its about Samuel’s mom, Hannah and the prayer she prayed when she had to give up Samuel after he was weaned. It sounds like this has never been easy for any woman being barren, having to be with people or around them who have kids…”
“I had hopes this would be the month I met you. I can’t fathom a month I don’t long to meet you. I wonder what you’ll look like. What will our family look like eventually? This isn’t getting easier, but I’m starting to get used to the fact that it might be a while before I meet you. I know I will meet you one day. I must have hope. Despair is of the devil.”
“Its getting very hard to be away from you, little one. You’ve become more real to me in these past months. I can feel and smell you in my dreams now. I can hold your body close to me and it calms me, knowing that one day it will be right. I can’t even imagine how happy I’ll be, my eyes swell with tears just thinking about it now. Is it really possible that you will cause all these great changes? I believe it is.”
“I wish I had a great answer for why I have to wait for you. I know I may never get to know why, but I do know that I am not nearly the same person that I was when I thought you would come quickly. It seems like an eternity ago now. You’ve left such an imprint on my soul through your absence that I know I’ll never be the same again.”
There’s more but I won’t put it all out there. I was all over the place. There’s a reason I guess I wrote it in my journal!
I do realize that I need to write to Samuel still and especially now that he’s here. I wrote to him when he was just a dream in order to keep me going, but it only makes sense keep writing to record this dream unfolding.