Every day around this time I feel my heart sinking.
It’s worse on Fridays.
It marks another day I won’t be receiving a call. It marks another week we’ve heard no news.
And this mama-heart just keeps beating louder and louder.
Before Christmas, I had some trouble sleeping. I went through everything I posted this year and read every single word all over again. In so many ways, it was amazing to see just how much God moved on our behalf.
But in small way – in a way I can’t think about too much because I feel my heart fold in on herself – it really, really hurt.
Last Christmas, I never imagined us still being without a child. In March, I felt as if we were being pulled along by something bigger than us – something we couldn’t even control. Like we were on some kind of freight train headed straight to our child and there would be no stopping – no slowing down – until he or she was in our arms.
And then one day in April before I left for work, I felt this imperceptible nudge in my spirit. I remember when it happened. I remember standing up from the couch, feeling the nudge, and then letting my body fall against the cold leather again.
I sat there for a few seconds before breathing deep and whispering, “what is it, Father?”
Three beats of silence.
And then, and then….“today is the day. Are you ready?” My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed. I looked around. I shook my head because surely I didn’t hear what I just thought I heard. Surely it was just my hormones/emotions/wishes/demands speaking for Him.
“Don’t screw with me, God. Please. You know me. You know my heart. What do you mean today is the day.”
(I did say this, by the way. I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyes and I fought the tears and I begged Him to not screw with me. As if I’m a toy. A puppet on a string.)
I never got an answer (do we ever?) but I know I heard Him that morning. This flesh-and-blood heart fails me more often than not, but that morning my heart and soul worked together and I experienced something so profound I still haven’t found words to describe it.
It was if my soul nodded and my heart pulled me up by her strings and turned me toward our future child.
And this was nine months ago. And I’m not sure what this means and I’d be lying if I haven’t wondered but I also know more than anything I could ever fully express that this process has introduced me to an element of the mysterious.
So on days like today, when the clock is inching toward evening and every second is another second I’m without, I know Who is with me. And I know He hears me.
And I know somewhere, He’s holding our baby in the palm of His hand, just waiting for that second the phone will ring.
On days like today, I take comfort in Him knowing the month, the week, the day, the second it all happens.
Even if my arms ache from emptiness.