It’s been almost a year since I stopped writing here.
I had hoped a lot would have changed in that year. I kept putting off writing again, thinking how fun it would be to come back with an “announcement.” But as the days, weeks, months passed and I had no announcement to make, I had no reason to justify my absence. Then, as someone very close to me became public about her journey, her struggles, I felt silly sharing mine.
Because I have been blessed. I have the most beautiful, caring, thoughtful, gracious, smart, friendly and open little girl in the world (at least I think so). My wonderful sister, and so many like her, does not have that. My pain is miniscule compared to hers, augmented by the serious illness of her father (my stepfather).
I know what it is to feel my newborn child in my arms, to wake up in the middle of the night and be the only one who can soothe her cries. I know what it is to smell her hair, to feel her soft smoothness under my fingers, against my cheek, at my breast. I know what it is to hold her as she sobs from an injury to her body, her soul, her pride. I know what it is to see her laugh with her friends, sing songs on a stage, write her name, turn two, turn three, turn four…
Yes, I have been blessed.
I also know what it is to look into her little face and explain that no, there is no baby in Mommy’s belly right now. That yes, it is taking a long time. That no, neither God nor Santa Claus forgot Mommy this year. That it will happen someday, when the time is right. She will make an excellent big sister. She will be so helpful, so tender, so nurturing. I cannot wait to give it to her.
I am waiting. The pain is sometimes crushing. The hope is tempered. But I am still waiting. And I am still hoping.