It's been almost six months since my last "dear diary" entry on baby-making... and if I'm really honest, I've been delaying this post for a while now. Part of me thought that maybe if I waited long enough to write a follow-up post that I'd eventually have different news to share.
But I don't.
The past few months have included a smattering of doctors appointments... blood work... fertility tests... pee sticks... and more doctor appointments. I've been in my fair share of waiting rooms lately. And every time I'm in the waiting room, I think of the irony of that word... "waiting," and it's meaning in my life lately.
I typically make sure I have a book or a magazine when I'm chilling in the waiting room... anything I can pretend to read while I wait... And it's behind the safety of my book, I secretly glance around at the other dozen women sitting in the waiting room... the majority of them very, very pregnant. Some of them reading the latest Pregnancy magazine... others marking their calendars with their next ultrasound appointment.
It was sometime around this point that I felt alone. Like perhaps I was the only one in that waiting room... or maybe I'm the only one waiting at all??
Okay, okay... I know that's not true... and perhaps a tad overdramatic. I know there are other women on this journey... lots of other women on this journey. Some much, much further along in this process. And many of them with very painful, heartbreaking stories.
But the truth is, sometimes the waiting gets lonely.
We have another doctor's appointment mid-April... and I'll sit in that waiting room once more... probably pretending to read the same book that I pretended to read last month.
And I will wait.
And I will hope.
Because there is hope in the waiting... And while, yes, I sincerely hope to be a mother one day... that is not where my true Hope is. My identity is not found in motherhood... it is found in Christ... something I daily struggle to remember, but am so grateful that He is gentle to remind me.