Mourning

Before I continue to write today's blog, I want to add a preface... probably a preface that will seem unfair to some of my readers.

I write this blog as openly and honestly as I can; revealing corners of my heart which rarely see the light of day. In writing it I am aware that I invite you all into my personal life. Here is my request: Please do not talk to me about what you read here. Please feel free to comment as you wish, but understand that sometimes what I write here, is difficult for me to talk about, and that is why I write. Writing comes as easily and naturally to me as breathing, and therefore when my life takes a tumultuous turn, I quickly turn to writing as an outlet.

I do apologize if this offends anyone because that is not my intention. I merely say it to guard my heart, and to perhaps save you from a rather uncomfortable conversation that may dissolve me into tears and snot. :) Onto the blog...

Mourning... everyone does it differently.

This past week we got some of the best news we could ask for; Billy's chemotherapy has been very successful and the cancer is being eradicated from his body. Billy had a follow-up appointment with the doctor to discuss what exactly this meant as far as the rest of his treatment went, and he will finish his chemo but then will most likely go into remission. I was elated, and then Billy told me something else that his doctor said.

I had asked Billy to see when we would be able to start trying for kids again, trusting that he won't be infertile, and the doctor said that ideally we should wait a year from the end of his chemotherapy... so November 2011 we can start trying.

I was crushed.

Many of you don't know that I have been yearning to be a mom for the past two years, and just last November Billy told me that we could start trying. Then in March he was diagnosed with cancer and all baby plans were put on hold. I know to read this, unless you have been in my place, my situation seems small and insignificant.

Has your heart ever been so focused on something that everything else seemed like an unnecessary distraction? That is what mommy-hood means to me. To convey what I'm feeling, would be to convey a broken heart. I feel crushed, downtrodden, and so frustrated. I feel like I am standing on a cliff face, staring down at my future, and there is no way to reach it. Just standing there, utterly bewildered at how I am ever going to get there.

The other part of a broken heart is that incredible sense of loss. Physically I never had anything to lose, but I did lose the vision of me holding my baby next fall, celebrating my baby's first holiday season... These are the things I mourn. I mourn for my aching heart that is so resolutely living in my future.

So I cry... that's how I mourn. I don't get angry, I just feel sad. And eventually the peace and truth of God will wash over me and I will accept that my life is exactly where God wants it to be right now. So you see, in my mourning my faith is not lost... I know that my God is a good God. He has a plan for my future, has perfect timing, and loves me more than I will ever know. Right now I pray, and cry, and pray, and cry some more, all the time knowing that God is moving, and that God fulfills his promises.

One day, one perfect day, I will be with my children and I will understand why it was necessary for me to be in this place at this time.

And on that perfect day, God is going to teach me to base jump and I will jump off that cliff and plummet into my future.