I’ve never been one to want to smell a baby’s head, cuddle it while it’s crying or envision myself as a mom. I don’t get gooey over anything baby related other than tiny shoes. Seriously-tiny shoes are cute.
I know that the mothering side to me is there-my heart is not completely black. And I’ll admit to being a little jealous of women that had these motherly attributes that were seemingly and utterly “all that is female”. But for some reason, whether I was scared of admitting it or worried it may never happen, I wouldn’t allow myself to feel this way about a child. I love children, and I love them more when you’re taking care of their poopy diaper.
I was completely ok with life being only Biceps and I (and maybe a cat or two). Or so I thought. And then I hit 35 and the thought of having a little stubborn mini-Biceps running around shooting at squirrels with a stick, throwing rocks into ponds and generally being a boy overwhelmed me. Or maybe even a little mini-Rebekah with sassy pigtails organizing her stuffed animals.
But nothing happened. For awhile. Like a long while. Women all around me seemed to get pregnant with ease. I was happy for them, but there was that twinge. It’s like that feeling after a break-up when all you see are happy couples and you’re sitting alone in the corner with your single served ice cream glaring at them like a freak.
I’ve been that freak on more than one occasion. And here I was again. Well-meaning women would ask why we didn’t have children or why I didn’t like kids. My heart was ripped open one day, and I wrote this–A Letter from a Childless Wife.
It was cathartic but also extremely revealing to write something so raw for the world to read, to pass on to others or to judge me by. But, I did it with the hope that even if we couldn’t conceive, others might know the pain I, or any other childless wife, might feel each time their “motherly duties” were questioned.
And then, this happened.
I am blessed beyond words to share this revelation with all of you. I am honored that God chose this time for us to conceive. And, I covet your prayers as we move forward to our due date of April 22nd.
Biceps and I are finally going to be parents. Amen and amen.
♥♥(If you are in the midst of or have been through this same story, I would love to lift you up as you did for me when I wrote my letter. Privately email me or comment below.) ♥♥