Streams of consciousness...

I'm not sure why I keep writing. I keep thinking maybe it's time to stop. No one benefits from anything I write, which is basically a lot of whining about how unfair life can be - no one needs that. Maybe it helps me still to have an outlet, but I don't even know if that's true. Granted, the point is more that I focus on the moving forward, but I know with absolute certainty that my heart, though chock-full of love, will never be past the love that it can never hold.

Yes - I'm resilient, yes - I'll keep moving forward, and yes - I'll know happiness and joy and love. Yet this is a blessing and a curse: I do not have a heart that forgets.

Very recently another, of many, Facebook things has been going around about how motherhood makes one whole. Now, fear not for me - I think that is a huge load of bunk!! I always have thought that sort of thing was bunk - whether about marriage or motherhood - or whatever, but those are the two biggies I hear. It is only God who makes me whole. God made me, and He made me whole - not perfect, but whole.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9) 

Marriage couldn't have made me any more whole, and motherhood also could not make me more whole, because one can't be more whole than whole. Yet I worry for the wives and mothers who don't understand that they don't need others to make them whole, and I especially fear for those who are single- and/or childless- not-by-choice who don't understand that... who are waiting to be made whole, waiting for something that may or may not happen - so they can feel whole.

Please don't believe the lie!  Our lack of __________ does not make us incomplete!

That doesn't mean my heart is less broken. That doesn't make the grief less. After all, I fiercely love children I will never - ever - have, all while still praying and hoping against all hope that maybe just maybe a miracle will still happen. 

Ugh.

Anyhow, it just means that my wholeness as a person does not rely on anyone else on this earth - no matter how amazing they are (like R), or would be (like our hypothetical children). 

Somehow reading that sort of thing on Facebook makes me sad anyhow though - I don't know why. Maybe because that's what so many people believe, and though ridiculous, many do look at the childless (and the single) as if they are less than. And frankly, that stinks! It outrages me for me and for my childless friends (whether childless by choice or not), and it outrages me for my single friends. 

The world likes to lie though. It reminds me of the times I've had people say - outright say right to me - that it's more tragic when someone with kids dies young or unexpectedly. Um. MORE tragic?  Yeah. Tell that to the people left behind. If I pass away before R, I'd highly recommend no one let R (or my mom or closest friends) hear that said of me - I can guarantee it won't go well. 

Sorry, do I sound angry?  See, this is what I mean - my thoughts are of no benefit to anyone. Are they thoughts or mere streams of consciousness? 

For my New Number 24, I went on a girlfriend vacation to Fort Lauderdale. By and large, it was lovely - full of friends, beach, warmth, sun, good food and drink, ocean water, and dancing barefoot with old ladies! Mmmm!! Loveliness!!

Even there though, my status as an "other" followed me. On the beach, relaxed and amused by a little one's antics (just silliness - he was quite well-behaved), his mom rolled her eyes to me and offered for me to take him.  Ahh yes, what tragedy to have this hilarious little guy, that you should offer him to a complete stranger. Yes, yes - she was joking, I know. Still, not cool! I'd have told her to be careful what she wishes for, but chose to just focus back on the ocean. Speaking wouldn't have mattered and I'm trying to choose grace. Being on the beach somehow makes choosing grace easier than the frozen tundra does. 

Another thing I saw around Facebook recently was about how motherhood is worth having one's body ruined. I want to scream: my body was ruined just TRYING to become a mother, yet I've nothing to show for it. I'd be glad to have "ruined" it for kiddies. Honestly, I'm okay with ruining it for the love of those we'll never have too. It was worth it for the effort. I just want to be heard sometimes, I guess - to be counted. Silly, yes - honest though. What good would this screaming do? None, yet what do I do with the unscreamed words? 

Add to all this another pregnancy announcement this weekend... I smiled and said the right things - and I truly am happy for these very young folks - they are good young folks. Still, when will my head stop screaming, even as I smile sweetly, "WHAT ABOUT US??  WHY NOT US TOO!!??" 

Why does almost everyone whose heart longs for motherhood get to be a mother, but not me? 

What does someone whose heart never forgets do with all of these scenarios and questions?  It serves no purpose to ask them, yet they are always with me. I'm learning to stop hating that they are with me though. They are honest. And though I think they'll never be answered, they do need to be faced.

No matter how much I try to move forward, these things always seem to make me stumble a bit. Still, they haven't been stopping me - so I suppose that is important to note. I just don't know where to keep them or what to do with them? It's like a junk drawer of sadness and anger. So I guess I keep writing and praying - despite my fear for the redundancy of my posts. I think only about three people read this anyhow, so to you three - thank you - and sorry I'm such a bore.

Well, life will always throw these curves and somehow I must not let them stop me from keeping on. "Somehow," meaning only through the grace of God - and all of the love that has been so greatly lavished upon me. 

Week 10 of Photo 52: Curves

Though a bit abstract, the curves in my photo above appealed to me because they seem hopeful and gentle curves - leading to a higher place.

Maybe that's what these other curves I've been writing about will feel like to me someday.

Perhaps one day I'll feel balanced on this precarious post I've landed on - instead of the sweetly smiling, head screaming nut job that I really am.

Week 11 of Photo 52: Balance

I do have faith that it will be so, because God alone makes me whole and He alone continues to do a good work in me - though I see it not. Maybe it's just over the curve.

With love,

HJ