I had a rare moment last night. A moment that, in my not-so-distant past, didn't used to be so rare. In fact, it pretty much used to be an everyday occurance.
I sobbed in my bathroom for about an hour.
As I laid in bed last night, after a nasty fight with my DH, I began to think about all of my blogging friends, and how different their lives have become. While mine goes on, just the same as it has always been. I pictured them in their homes with their not-so-new babies, and thought about those who are close to having, or are working on bringing Number 2 Child into their lives. All the while the days in my life pass me by as I get older and have absolutely no prospect for ever being in their shoes.
Yes. I was insanely jealous.
And while I have come to accept my childlessness, even the fact that it may be indefinate, it doesn't mean I'm happy about it.
So, I ran to the bathroom and weeped and weeped. The real ugly kind, sucking snot, choking on mucus, sounding like a dying cat. I cried out to God, "Why do you not hear me??" It seemed to me, last night, that God heard the passionate and desperate cries of every single one of my blogging friends who have been blessed by pregnancy, adoption, home study approval, etc. But He has seemingly turned a deaf ear to my crying and mourning. Why?
I was suffering from the "unfairness" of the whole thing. (And we all. know. that life. isn't. fair.) But in my mind, last night, the devil was running rampant. I was thinking how dare God give multiple blessings to so many of my friends while continuing to pass me over. (Yup. I actually thought how DARE God. It was not a proud moment. But hey, this is blog-worthy material at least. No recipes tonight.)
I thought back to a time when I was in high school, when I was SO WRONGED that to this day it still hurts me. My NY varsity basketball team played a tournament in Delaware, and I had just gotten over bronchitis and still went. I was a bencher. The tournament was 3 days long. My father traveled all the way and stayed in a hotel to watch us play all 3 games. After the first game, when several of us "benchers" had not played even a minute, our coach told us in the locker room that NO ONE would be played if they complained about not being put in. I kept my mouth shut. The girl I roomed with got terribly sick one night in the hotel, and yet despite her illness, she was played the next day. After the second game, I saw one of the new members of the team (I had been on the team 2 years already) crying in the corner of the locker room to the assistant coach, complaining about not having played at all. The assistant coach calmed her down and told her not to worry.
The next day, she was put in the game. I remained the ONLY. person. not played for the entire tournament. With my poor father watching every second.
Last night as I cried out to God from my disgusting stink bug-infested bathroom, I remembered this incident from high school, and how I remembered "playing by the rules" (not complaining about not getting playing time), how the new girl "broke the rules" and complained, and how she got played and I didn't. And I likened that experience to my jealousy about not getting my "rightful" gift of the miracle of life, while those who "complained" got it abundantly.
It really seemed unfair to me last night that all of my friends have transitioned into motherhood and are continuing to add to their families exponentially as I look on, and find less and less to even talk to them about. It seemed unfair that so many of them have had not one, but at LEAST two blessings and likely will continue reaping in the blessings as I remain barren in body and on paper. It seemed unfair that the women who lamented the most about their suffering, the ones who "broke the rules" were the ones to whom God came and answered their prayers.
Yes. These are the thoughts that were running through my head. And I am ashamed to admit them, but this blog has always been an honest place. My hope is that in sharing these hateful thoughts (and possibly losing some friends??) those who are reading who have had similar thoughts will see that they're not alone. Or maybe I'm the only one.
After a good hour-long cry, I returned to bed and slept like a baby. This morning, I awoke to clarity and, thank the good Lord, peace. The same peace I have had for a while. (Phew, for a moment there last night I thought I had returned to the dark place again.) I realized that my constant comparisons with others are so harmful to my mental and spiritual health. First of all, I am not OWED anything by God. Whether I consider myself to be "playing by the rules" (whose rules exactly did I think I was playing by, anyway??!) or not is not the point. I have learned that some days it is too difficult for me to visit the blogs of the mommies with growing babies. (For some reason, and I'm not sure if others out there agree, but I've discovered that the new baby blogs and the pregnancy blogs don't bother me... but the babies-that-are-now-toddlers-and-tomorrow-will-be-starting-Kindergarten blogs do... it's a reminder of just how much time has passed since so-and-so received her blessing and here I still am.) But it doesn't mean that I am more worthy of a blessing or "DUE" a blessing just because someone else has many. Why would I even think that?? Where did that come from??
Nights like last night used to be a part of my normal weekly routine. Now they are few and far between, and when I realized that, I realized that my blessing HAS come. My prayers HAVE been answered. I have achieved what I was searching for. Peace, and joy. (I've also learned that joy does not mean that I'm constantly HAPPY. You can still suffer while having joy, and that is what I've been striving for for such a loooooong time. I've found it.) God has heard my pleas, and for HIS reasons, and for HIS timing, it is not the time for ME to be a mother right now. It has NOTHING to do with anyone else. I accept that. And I love Him and thank Him for having my very best interests in mind, even if my bratty attitude can't always understand it.
To my friends of whom I was so envious last night, I apologize. I know it's cliche, but I truly am so happy for each and every one of you. I love your children, even those whom I have not met, SO MUCH, and really have enjoyed watching them grow and reach new milestones. You all have proven to be such excellent mothers :)
May my next breakdown be far, far away...