Body heavy. Bright red. Feeling empty. Feeling crampy. Not pregnant, again.
Eli and I thought we did it this month. Is there something wrong?
What if everything does happen for a reason and there is some magical timing to everything and the timing just isn’t quite right yet?
Thoughts gather and pass through my mind.
It’s not my fault. I haven’t done anything wrong.
I’ve made a lot of progress these past few months — spiritually, mentally, emotionally. My relationship to Self is expanding my connection to us all. It’s deeply personal.
Absorbing this moment. Releasing that breath. Accepting that my cycle is here again and my next child is not yet on the way.
Future baby…are you out there? Is there something you need me to do first? My heart aches. I thought you might be on the way. I want you to come. Soon. Please.
Eli and I went out for a special dinner on Wednesday night. It was the night before his 39th birthday and we wanted to memorialize the end of one year and the beginning of a new one. I felt giddy as we enjoyed our meal and asked him a host of questions.
“What’s one thing you want to accomplish in your 39th year that you haven’t done before?” He mulled over the question, as he is apt to do. He bought a little time and turned the question on me. An answer flashed in my mind but I hesitated to reveal it.
I took a deep breath and tried not to cry but the tears welled up anyways. “I want to bring a living child into the world.” We locked eyes and held each other’s hearts in our gaze. A tender smile spread across his face. “I want that too,” he agreed.
And now, 2 days hence, our dream to nurture and adore is pushed out once more. I know I’m not alone on this journey towards motherhood. I’m not the only girl whose only Christmas wish is a viable pregnancy.
I won’t stop wishing, and I’m not going to stop celebrating life either. My heart is huge. I find comfort in this present moment. With renewed hope I carry on.