A New Caution

Keeping track, circling that date on the calendar, and making sure I don’t start hoping too early matter so much more now. Before the risk was minimal (at least based on my experience). Take a test too early and you might suffer a bit of disappointment. Your patience level may be stretched. The ache, the wanting would remain, but there’d be nothing lost and the next month lay ahead with a new promise.

Now a fear of discovering too early, becoming attached when I might not have known otherwise, permeates the experience for me. I’m excited by the prospect of another baby, but recently told a friend I probably wouldn’t test now until I knew I’d missed twice, rather than once. Waiting with grace has never come naturally for me – when I set my mind on something, I think, plan, do all I can to move forward. Perhaps this will become a new skill for me.

A few months ago, I felt heartbroken, fragile, and, perhaps I shouldn’t admit it, but betrayed by God in a way. The other day  I realized that I feel centered again. At some point I handed over my burden to Him and, while the sadness and loss remain, the bitterness and despair have lifted.

Some days, I look at our life with our children a bit older. Ezra is the magic 18 months and can now go into nursery after sacrament at church, so I can actually sit in Sunday School and listen. Ella is becoming so big and independent and is closer to kindergarten than babyhood now. They get along fairly well, the baby bag contents have dwindled, and then comes potty training. I even get a full night’s sleep occasionally.

But deep inside I know I’m kidding myself. Without looking at the calendar, I thought’d I’d remembered the dates over the last two months. Luckily I looked this morning, because I was off by about 5 days and I could feel the seeds of excitement building. I treasure the way I discovered my first two pregnancies now, in a way I didn’t then. So simple, uncomplicated, and quick, devoid of this caution.