Embracing the Meantime: Making the Most of It

Enjoying a book and leisurely afternoon in the afternoon light of Central Park
Enjoying a book and leisurely afternoon in Central Park

For much of the last year and a half, I have lingered in a strange space of utter heartbreak and stubborn joy.

The job descriptions I have wanted more than any other in life have been to be a wife and a mother, but things have not gone according to my carefully laid plans. With that, I have had to reconsider everything I assumed for how I would live my life in my late twenties into my thirties. Piece by piece, I have been slowly letting go and burying the things I held onto so tightly.

Grief is a cycle – it comes in seasons and waves and is not always predictable. In order to not let my disappointment consume me, I have had to actively choose to sit down each day and list the blessings in my life. What is present in my life today that makes me smile? What do I get to do that I could not (or not as easily) if I woke up today as a mom?

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What We Think We Are Promised

img src: Phae, Creative Commons
img src: Phaedra, Creative Commons

We all have plans for our lives – specific ways we think they should go.

We imagine that because we are good people who make the right choices, we will somehow be rewarded. Or for those of us who believe in God, we think because our faith is strong and we trust Him unwaveringly, He will give us the deepest desires of our hearts. This is true especially for those big milestone things: the dream job, the perfect spouse, or a happy, healthy family. Sometimes things seem to work out that way, but quite often they do not.

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On Practicing Patience and Waiting for Children

image source: Stephan Pasch, Creative Commons
image source: Stephan Pasch, Creative Commons

There are many things Uganda changed in me, but of all the things this one is perhaps the most life-altering.

It flipped my baby switch to “on.”

If you are a long-time reader, you know that I have been slowly working my way through my fears of becoming a mom. The year I got married, I declared No Babies ’til 2015. I was Staving Off the Baby Rabies. And earlier this year, I admitted to the Trepidation of Urban Motherhood.

Last year I would walk to work every day and pass moms and nannies pushing strollers. I would ask myself: would I enjoy that more? Would I find it more meaningful? Am I ready to take responsibility for a little life? I did not feel ready to take that leap, but the question loomed in the forefront of my mind, all day, every day.

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