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?
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.
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.