The moment I woke up I wanted to go back to sleep. I had been dreaming a very realistic (well by dreaming standards) dream in which I had the opportunity to be pregnant and have a baby (well ok, it wasn't very realistic as it involcved swollowing pills that would make me pregnant). In the dream, I felt the exhilaration of excitment over the possibility of having a baby growing inside me, and then the utter hopelesness and grief of failing. When I woke up I realized that my reality is that there will never even be the hope of a baby biologically - and my first thought was that I wanted to go back to sleep so that I could feel that hope and dream again.
I dream about babies all the time.
When I was a little girl I used to pretend I was pregnant, I would put a baby doll into my shirt and then pretend to nurse the baby doll. I was the one in my goup of friends and even among siblings who KNEW that I wanted to have lots of kids. I was excited about being pregnant. I remember during church one day my mommy placing my 7 year old hand on her large tummy and I could feel my baby sister hiccuping inside. I was in awe and I just knew how much I would love to have the joy of a baby growing inside me someday.
Six years ago on December 15th I forever lost the dream of carrying a baby inside me. When I woke up from surgery, I remember feeling stunned to hear the words: "hysterectomy". I honestly didn't think God would allow that dream to be taken away - I figured that IF I lived through the surgery that God would spare my ability to have a baby, and if I wouldn't be able to have a baby I figured that God would let me go to heaven and I would never wake up from that surgery.
I am so glad I did wake up. The grief of what I lost that day will probably always be in my life - like Gary Sitzer says in his book "A Grief Disguised" grief becomes like an ugly stump through time - it is always there but it becomes part of the landscape and beautiful flowers grow from what what was once an eyesore. I look forward to the day when I can think about the fact that I cannot give a baby to my sweet husband without feeling like I'm suffocating, I know that as time goes by and I continue to give this to God every moment that He will ease the feelings of overwhelming grief. God has done so much and worked in both my heart and the heart of the man who married me - knowing that he was giving up his ability to have a biological child. We know that God can bring us children in His time and His grace through adoption will be beautiful.
Sometimes, I wonder if I will be able to be a good momma. I wonder if my chronic pain will get in the way. I have heard of adults who are bitter now over a childhood with a disabled or ill parent, and I hate to think that our children will feel bitter toward God or me for being weaker physically. But, ultimately, I know that God is the one who makes parents able to take good care and love on their children - and that if He wants us to be parents someday that He will provide the right support system, and circumstances to enable us to do what He asks of us. No one has the guarentee of good health or financial stability ... I choose to walk forward trusting God as He guides us and believing that He will prepare me and my husband to be all that He wants us to be to whatever children he puts in our lives. Every concern or question regarding life with health issues or without - comes back to God. His peace is a beautiful thing and learning to trust Him in every circumstance is essential.
So today, I am dreaming of my babies wherever they are or will be - and praising the God who works all things for His glory and our good.
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