6 years ago today I was pacing the floor waiting for B to take a shower so we could head to the hospital. I thought my water had broken, but wasn’t sure. I was so nervous, so unsure of what the next days held and so full of anticipation.
Every birthday of X’s that I get further away from that day the more surreal it seems. In those 6 hours I found power and strength in myself I did not know I possessed. Even now I wonder if it was real. Did I really have a baby? It all seems like a fairy tale.
He is very, very real. Wild and crazy full of imagination. Currently he loves dressing up as superheros and villains. He is a first grader and can read and tells fantastic stories and comes up with imaginative explanations.
But I thought there would be more babies to hold and nurse and there aren’t and my only baby is growing up so fast. I want to freeze time, well at least when he is being sweet. Every year it seems worse. Would him growing up hurt less if I had more children?
Will this ever get any easier? Waiting for what may never happen? Being stuck …..so stuck. Listening to my child pray for a brother and a sister and then try to explain that God doesn’t always answer our prayers in the way we expect. Trying to hide my tears when he asks (weekly!) “when are w going to get our baby?”
Right now at this moment it seems to be more than I can handle.
I feel so completely broken.