Of late, I have frantically busy - literally never stopping except to sleep. Even today, the one day I had set aside for me to rest, I could not stop.
And then it hit me, I have been running. Running from the very real reality that we are facing - that there is a chance that we will never be able to have children. Just today I caught myself saying "Our first girl child will be named ______ ". There are no guarantees any more that we will even get one child. Let alone the four I have always dreamed of and planned for.
How do you process that? How do you come to peace with that? Particularly when I am a woman whom likes to plan. Likes to know where she is going, and how she is going to get there. All of a sudden I have no control, and no say. And so, I do what I do best - get busy and ignore the facts that are staring me in the face.
They say ignorance is bliss, and maybe it is for some. But for me, it just prolongs the inevitable, and the bliss it creates is not real.
I will say however, that my time has been taken up doing things I love - escaping into the things that bring me pleasure, albeit momentarily.
But when I shut my front door, I feel tired. I feel angry. I feel slighted by a world that I cannot claim to understand any more. The silence stands as an ever lurking sign of my failure to become a parent. That I am just playing make believe, and trying to be something I am not - a mother. Regardless of how much I think I deserve that title of mother, it is not mine to own - yet. And some days, the very worse of days, I think I will never own it - that it has escaped my grasp for forever - and that I will be fated to be playing make-believe for the rest of my life.