I whined a lot this weekend. About how my back hurt, a headache, how I was doing something for others and no one was doing anything for me. I whined about what we didn’t get done, I whined about a meeting, I just whined. Nothing was good.
What’s the point? Really. Whining is not going to change anything. It won’t make any difference. What is, is. And perhaps more than that, it hurts to poke that area. It hurts that I keep losing what I want so much. It hurts that other women get pregnant and stay pregnant. It hurts that babies are born addicted to drugs. It’s hard to find God in this place. He just doesn’t seem to be here.
I’ll save you the trouble, I’ve looked it up in about 15 different translations. They all more or less say the same thing. Psalm 113, verse 9 says that God is going to make me the happy mother of children. (I’m the mother of a child, but I’m not exactly happy about how that turned out.)
Now, I know I’ve read that psalm before. I’ve read it a lot, I suspect. I’ve read the psalms a lot in the last 2 or so years. Somehow, I’ve never seen that verse. I read it, caught my breath, read it again, and marked it. For the next few weeks, I kept finding myself returning to it. For someone as terrible at remembering the chapter and verse of well, anything, I remember it.
And for a little bit, I thought I understood the meaning. And then, all at once, I was back to walking by faith, and not by sight. This is hard. For every woman who waited for her baby, I can find another who waited, and never did get her child. I can hold up women who waited and lost, or waited and never did get a child. For every Sarah, for every Rachel, there is another woman, who ‘chose’ to live without children. I am not so foolish as to blindly believe that eventually a baby will turn up in the midst of the tomato patch (Mrs. Spit really hates cabbage). I know that some stories don’t ever have a happy ending.
I’ll read the verse again tonight, tomorrow night, other nights. And I’ll hold it up. I want to believe it. I really do. I want to believe that somehow, in all this mess, this blood, this fear and hurt and anger, somehow another baby will find its way not just to my uterus, but home in our arms as well.
And I half-way do. Half of the time I totally believe it, and half of the time I do not believe it at all. And maybe that’s ok. There’s a verse for that too.
And thank you for reaching out. Thanks for telling me that you were with me. In the end, the bleeding has mostly stopped, I am feeling better, if a bit sad and a bit angry and a bit confused. I will manage for a while, and then I will thrive.
There's a verse for everything, I think. That's the beauty of the Bible. It's just that some verses seem to get more airtime than others.
There WILL be better days, but for now, it's perfectly OK to be angry & confused & just manage. (((hugs)))
Is it ok if you drink a shot of something while you read that? Just thinking the translation might get a bit softer around the edges.
wishing I could be there to listen to the whining, Mrs. Spit. Much Love.
Thoughts and many hugs to you.
I am still waiting for a baby to show up at your house too. It simply isn't fair and I have never gotten over my childhood belief that life ought to be fair.
Sometimes, as hard as I pray, things don't make sense. Not a bit of sense. That is where faith comes in. If God is good, then no matter what our circumstances, you still have to believe that God is good. Sometimes, when life isn't going the way I want it, I wobble a bit. I guess that's what faith is about. We wobble, and then we take a deep breath, and step out in faith. What your future holds, Mrs. Spit, I cannot tell you. Who holds your future, that part I know. And I can tell you that God is good.
Praying for you both.
If anyone is allowed to whine for a while, it is you, my dear.
(This whole thing has made me question my agnosticism. Neither option (solution? answer?) makes sense to me right now, each still leaves me without comfort.)
Wishing you comfort.
I need a drink. Tash is right.
And I'm sending you white light and prayers and love up North to you and Mr. Spit, who hurts too.
Yes, honey, I have no doubt that you will thrive.
And yes, I do this too:
"I whined about everything but what I don't want to whine about."
Whine away. You both deserve it.
Love to you and Mr.Spit always and in all ways.
Now about that tomato patch…
You are both in my thoughts and prayers. If that can help in some way.
I'm so sorry, Mrs. Spit.
This one's for you.
Thinking of you tonight.
Thinking of you tonight.. wishing thinking could heal.
"I wish everyone was loved tonight
and somehow stop this endless fight
just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
So take these words and sing out loud
'cause everyone is forgiven now
'cause tonight's the night the world begins again" ~Goo Goo Dolls
Praying and praying… and praying some more…
Walking by faith is never easy. I wish I could say something that would help or would bring a magical answer. I'll just keep praying.
I hope that the "thriving" part comes your way sooner rather than later.
My heart hurts with you.
It does hurt. When I was at my worst, that verse never brought me comfort. It always felt like it was written for someone else.
You will thrive. Because you are an amazing woman. Who more than deserves to bring a child home in your arms.