Two Years & Counting

     The earliest memory I have of wanting to be a mom is 5 years old.  Mom sat nursing baby Rae Rae & I rocked along with her in my miniature rocking chair and baby doll.  I remember how the air got pushed out of my lungs as I hung over the side of Rae's crib trying to reach her and pull her out.  I wish I couldn't recall the stink of baby poop as I washed out the cloth diaper in the toilet.  Even as I gagged at the task I knew I wanted to be a mommy.

     In my mind I can still see my mom in her long, knit, red sweater rocking a baby.  I remember how I wanted to be just like her.  She got married after a year of college and I came along 2 years later.  I had my heart set of following in her footsteps, until Dad informed me that I would be going to and finishing college.  So, I revised the plan.  I would go to college, meet someone special around my sophomore or junior year, get married after graduation, work for 2 years and then stay home when our first child was born.  In fall 1999 I realized that I was a junior and still had no fish on the hook.  Then along came someone.

     He wasn't a bad guy most of the time, but he was bad for me.  I pinned all my hopes on him.  I chased him and let him chase me.  I pushed him away and let him return the favor... for 8 years.  As every one of them went by I agonized over how much I hated him and alternately couldn't get away from him.  I prayed to be free of him and find "the one," but that freedom didn't come until winter 2007.

     After a year "off", I was set up on a blind date with Brett Anderson in February 2008.  I wasn't sure he was "the one" right away because I was looking for a big-hearted giant with a hero complex.  I wanted someone who could make me feel feminine, diminutive, and protected (which was quite a stretch for a plump 5' 10" female used to fending for herself).  But Brett fit so many more substantial requirements and, more importantly, I had peace about dating him.  I had peace about marrying him.  No reservations, no knots in my stomach, no sleepless nights.  Peace.

     So, here I am almost 3 years later.  The life-long aspiration of motherhood aches in my heart, but 2 years of infertility burns in my soul.  As a person of faith I know I have to rest in God's timing, but I find that more and more difficult as the months go by.  I find it more and more difficult as I buy presents for other people's babies, as friends and family offer words of encouragement, as I approach the next birthday.  34 is OLD.  And yet it looms in the weeks to come.  34.  Thirty four.  The big 3 - 4.

     All hope is not lost, even though I get lost in disappointment and fear sometimes.  We will start a new form on fertility meds this month (hopefully) and see what will happen from there.  In the mean time, I'm here waiting for Wonderful.