A Glimmer

Something unexpected happened today - I had a brief moment of being happy we’re not yet done with having children.

Gideon and I were at our weekly play group, a gathering I’ve found increasingly hard to attend, as the other mothers have successfully and effortlessly “increased their fold” over the past year - every single other member now having two children, perfectly spaced at around two years apart. It’s been hard to face that weekly reminder that they have something I don’t - a baby. The weekly meetings have brimmed with pregnant bellies, milk-engorged breasts, tiny diapers and miniscule socks designed to look like shoes. All very painful reminders of what we’ve been striving for for over a year now, with only a brief respite that ended in heartbreak.

But today, as a couple of long-absent members caught up with the group, the talk turned to just how many kids everyone planned to have. I kept my head down, feigning complete absorption in the stuffed baked potato and fruit salad Gideon and I were sharing, dreading - and hoping to avoid - any sort of related query directed my way, trying to protect my heart from the ache that crushes it whenever such questions are tossed so lightly and thoughtlessly in my direction.

But a funny thing happened as I heard most of these women declare that two was all they could handle, that while they would miss the feel of a newborn, they were ready to move on: I actually felt relieved that I’m not done with this childbearing chapter of life. It was a slow dawning, one that took me until right before I started typing this to fully grasp.

I even feel like I have a bit of an edge over these women - which I haven’t felt around them in a very long time. As a neighbor says, “Good Lord willin’”, I’ll still get to nuzzle a newborn’s head and relish hours dedicated to just nursing a tiny child at my breast. It’s hard to be in this period of waiting, as I’ve focused entirely too much on of late, but I realize now I feel blessed to still have that feeling of anticipation ahead of me, instead of behind me.

Sure, we may still only have one. We may be blessed with a second or even more. We may adopt. Right now, it’s all so out of my control, and hasn’t happened at all as I would have liked, that I can’t predict what will happen and I’m learning to let go and take what comes my way. It's an important lesson, one that can only benefit me.  And, despite the pain and disappointment we have over this issue at times, I still have experiences to look forward to. I’m happy babies might still be in my future. I'm happy I don't have everything exactly planned out and know exactly what to expect.  I’m happy I’m not done with this part of life.

It was a tiny moment but a huge revelation. One I’m very, very thankful for.

To the small moments in life. Happy Thanksgiving!