I mean, I HATE it.Most people who read my blog probably know my big (ahem, skinny) sister. She's the real writer in the family - she effortlessly combines depth, story-telling, advice, and humor in the best kind of way. You also may know that she has four {beautiful, amazing, perfect} children -- and that before there were four, there was infertility. I watched my sister pray, fast, weep, persevere and everything in between during those trying years.
I always feared that her struggle would become mine when I was ready to try for children. And here I am, relating in my own younger-sister kind of way. I haven't been trying for a really long time but I haven't been trying for a short time either. I'm not going to say exactly how long it's been because I'm sure there are people that have waited for less time / more time than I have who can relate to what I'm experiencing.
I'm consumed with waiting.
It's all I can think about right now. I want to say otherwise. I want to say that I'm fine, that I'm faithful, that I'm at peace, that I'm full of trust, joy, and all those qualities our Lord so perfectly embodies. But I don't feel that way right now. I feel far from that. I know that anxiety makes getting pregnant harder. But how on earth am I supposed to not be anxious right now? I know that this isn't a form of punishment and that I'm young and that Sarah had a baby when she was verging on...dead...but I was kind of hoping for something less difficult, less wrinkly.
I want to just bask in all that I do have - and I have SO much. I feel humbled by all that God's given me and I feel angry at myself for being consumed with waiting when God has done nothing but bestow mercy, blessing, grace, and love in my life. Who am I to question God's timing or God's plan? He's perfect and prayerfully, one day, with a baby in my arms, I'll look back and sigh all motherly and wise and say, "Wow, God's timing was perfect and so much better than mine."
But that's not what I feel right now.
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