Friday, 1 June 2012
If you were to ask me, as people so often do, whether we'd like to have any more children, I would tell you that we were "trying." Perhaps I'd even tell you that we'd been "trying" for sixteen months.
It's a funny term, "trying". Because try as we might, we cannot make this happen.
We have no power to magic this dream into existence, however hard or long we might hope and 'try', and in some ways I don't think it should be called 'trying' at all.
Yet in others, I can see that this period of life is truly a season of trying.
I'm trying not to loose hope as month after month ends in a slow slip of despair;
I'm trying not to let fear hang over my happiness as I await my tests;
I'm trying to feel genuine joy and excitement and compassion for each of my pregnant friends as they travel their own beautiful and difficult paths;
I'm trying to wait and trust and pray;
I'm trying to remember that my own happiness need not be be dulled through its comparison to others';
I'm trying not to project my fears on the future and live in a self-created bubble of worry;
I'm trying to surrender myself to the mysterious workings of a universe that's wild and unpredictable and unjust;
I'm trying to believe that this life is enough, exactly as it is;
I'm trying to forgive myself for the times when I think that maybe it isn't;
I'm trying to see each new month as the fresh new opportunity, filled with promise and hope;
I'm trying to keep busy and active and distracted;
I'm trying to remember that sixteen months is really a very short time in the grand course of a lifetime;
I'm trying to hold on to the love that I have for my husband in the midst of all this trying;
Most of all, I'm trying to live my life focusing on what I have rather than what I haven't.
It's not easy, but I'm trying.