Thirty days until we leave on a crazy adventure.
What’s funny is that I’ve been wanting this my whole life. Now that it’s just around the corner, I’m not feeling these crazy levels of excitement that I once thought I’d have. It’s not that I’m not excited. I absolutely am. It’s more so that I just really trust what God is doing in my life, and if this fell through tomorrow, I might not cry about it. I might just feel at peace. Does that make sense?
I’ve been working on the concept of not waiting for what’s next to start really living. Yes, I’m counting down the days, but I’m not waiting to start being the person I want to be. Instead I’m trying to grow here – in Colorado – and to grow today – not tomorrow, or thirty days from today. I have found much more appreciation and contentment in the days leading up to when we leave for Peru with this mentality. Why waste days that are gifts to us waiting for the next best thing when there might be something really good to find in today? (That might be one of the most positive things I’ve thought or said in a while. Haha.)
Truthfully, I’ve wasted a lot of days.
I’ve wasted a lot of days waiting to be a mom again. It’s not that my desire to be a mother is not beautiful and wholesome and good, but I’m married to a great guy. We have a beautiful life. We have more than we could ever ask for, and I find myself racing through so many of my days just to fall asleep again so that I’m one day closer to the day that I will become a mother again.
“I can’t wait for the day I become a mother again.”
It’s a thing not a lot of women say out loud, but I’m certain there are many women who are thinking it. (Of course, I’m very grateful for the hearts of the women who don’t have to say or think it – for the mothers who never had to endure loss.) The truth is, though, there are a lot of women who are waiting to become mothers again. Many mothers don’t have children in their home, but if a woman was once a mother they are always a mother. Maybe they once had a child in their belly and didn’t receive the opportunity to raise that child. Maybe they raised a beautiful baby, but now they are no longer able to look into those sweet little eyes anymore. That still makes you a mother.
Just because you have three or four kids at home, or you have the mom schedule, or you have the sleepless nights with your newborn, it doesn’t make you more of a mother; and just because you never had those things or don’t have them anymore doesn’t make you less of a mother. That’s my opinion, and I would reason that many women who have suffered the loss of a child would agree with me. We may be different kind of mothers, sure. The responsibility of a mother who has suffered great loss might be to grieve and to grow and to find new hope even when you think you can’t go on anymore, whereas the responsibility of a mother who has children in her home is very different. But, we’re all mothers.
I’m getting side tracked, but I wanted you to have an idea of what I meant when I said that I’ve wasted a lot of days waiting to be a mom again. Cause I have. Almost two years of my life. First, there was the stage of restlessness. I didn’t sleep at all for awhile. During this time I dealt with some serious grief and then confusion and then anger. Then, the uncontrollable depression kicked in. Months later I started running to beat the depression because I didn’t want to take meds. It helped. I soon found myself cramming my days to the brim so that I didn’t have to wait to go to sleep at night. Rather, night would just come quickly, and I could sleep and be one day closer to feeling joy or hope again, and maybe even one day closer to having a child to call my own.
So many people have called me “strong”. It’s meant to be empowering, I’m sure, and it was. But being strong is also exhausting. Isn’t it? It would have been much easier to commit to never leaving my house again, or smiling again, or possibly just never leaving my bed again. But because I didn’t know how to do anything else, I held on, and I moved forward one day at a time. And that’s our only option. To move forward.
I know many of the days I look back on and seem to have “wasted” weren’t really wasted. I know they weren’t spent in vain. Although crying until your tear ducts hit the point of drought would seem unproductive, I trust those days were all a part of the healing process. And after so many days of taking one day at a time trying to move forward, I am here today. And I’m here today wanting to make the most of today which is a very big deal for me. My husband made this day more easy to reach. The support system we have and the prayers over us made this day more easy to reach, and the girlfriends who have been here for me have made this day more easy to reach. Seriously, I have developed and/or deepened a few relationships with some women that I will easily be thankful for until I’m laying on my death bed.
So, here I am today. We’re thirty days out from leaving for Arequipa, Peru where we will have an amazing opportunity to love on and teach some beautiful children and teenagers. I can’t wait to see what God does with this. I couldn’t be more grateful for everything I’ve been through to get to this point in time because I know I wouldn’t be the person I am today, and I think the person I am today is the one God wants to use.
Thirty days until an incredible journey begins, but today is the first day of the rest of our lives! So, cheers to today!