Attempting to create this blog, documenting the journey that me, my husband, and our marriage have taken so far requires a somber recollection of a timeline that has long been ignored (as an attempt to forget). Documenting the beginnings of any journey can be long and drawn out, but that is not my goal. I have no intent for this blog to become someone’s daily-read, however, I am starting to think that documenting the facets of this story could do me some good. I have faith that putting the story down on paper will help me see God’s hand in my life (past, present and future).
There is not much backstory that needs to be put on paper regarding the beginnings of our marriage. We were married in 2005, we knew we were going to have kids, D (my hubby) knew he was going to have to convince me to wait an entire year after marriage… ya know… usual marriage stuff. We moved west after 9 months of marriage, and at about 1 and half years into our marriage, we decided to buy our first home. That was when D “finally” (seemed like eternity to me) agreed that we were ready to expand our little family. We started trying for a child in about January of 2007 (a little before we actually purchased our first place). In the process of looking for a house, we put kids into the equation. We wanted a 3 bedroom/3 bath house. And that’s what we got (basically). In May 2007 we moved into our brand new 3 bed/3 bath home. We were in love with our house. It was exciting times: trying for a baby at the same time that you are choosing paint colors for your future baby’s room. It was hard for me not to jump ahead.
I tried to set realistic expectations for the conceiving process: one of my sisters tried for 3 months before getting pregnant, my husband’s cousin tried for exactly 1 year before success. I set what I thought were reasonable expectations: somewhere between 3 and 12 months. I only vaguely remember the disappointment of each failed month during that first year. Now, in the scheme of things, that was only a scratch on the surface of the sorrow I would experience.
Christmas of 2007, we flew home to visit my family. I remember thinking during the flight, this will be the last Christmas that D and I will be flying home just the 2 of us. I get pretty motion sick on flights, especially during decent. I have a system worked out pretty well: take 2 Dramamine, sit near the window, bring a pillow, and get ready to put my head between my knees the entire decent. As I was folded in half during our decent, I remember thinking, I won’t be able to bend in half like this when I’m pregnant. I don’t think we’ll be able to fly anywhere during my pregnancy. We might be driving across the country to visit family from now on.
Looking back, I remember the hopeful excitement, the sure conviction that I would someday be pregnant, yet that slight hint of fear that would overwhelm at the worst times. I don’t remember a single prayer that I prayed in 2007 — I’m sure they were few and far between. I did not see how God would have this NOT work out for me. I come from a large family, I had 12 nephews/nieces at that time, all of my siblings had at least 1 child… There was no way that I would be the exception. How could God let me be the only one to lack a child?
LackOfNothing 