A Mom Wannabe

Mother's Day is an important day (and I love my mom dearly) but it is a heartbreaking day when dealing with infertility.  Two years ago my sister announced her 2nd pregnancy on Mother's Day.  My nephew is now just about a year and a half old.  We had only been trying about 5 months at the time when she got pregnant...but it's amazing how much time has passed since then.  At that point I never in my wildest dreams would have guessed we would have gone through so much and still not have a child.  A year ago I was so sure that the IUI's would be our answer and yet here were are moving onto IVF.  So here I am, on our 3rd Mother's Day while trying to conceive, trying to hold it together.  Maybe I sound selfish but I don't want to go out and see all the happy Mother's Day celebrations.  I don't want to read all about the happy new moms on facebook.  It all makes me too sad and it makes me want to cry all day.  I can't do that. 

Last Mother's Day I saw this poem posted on another website and it stuck with me.  I wish for all these things. 

I want to be a Mother 

A Mom Wannabe 

By Alison Kathleen Whitney 

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 a Heavy Burden". 

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 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.