When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

Henri Nouwen

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

How long will it take?

Every time I seem to being doing great and not thinking about a baby, it comes rushing back at unexpected moments. I'll be driving and singing along to music and having a great time and next thing I know I'm crying at a red light. I'm not crazy or even sad but can't seem to let go of the feeling that something was taken from me. I have trouble being humble and trusting in the Lord, when I don't see where He's going with something. And I know we can't always see where our paths are going but I'd like a road sign from time to time....
I'm just wondering (out loud? well as loud as my typing is..) how long it will take for my wounds to heal or at least toughen up a bit.
It feels like I wear a sign that states, "Hello, my name is Ami and I can't have any more children." and that diminishes my woman-ness. I'm less attractive and broken. My head knows that it's not true (and my mirror....hahaha) but my raw, aching heart will believe anything right now.
I'm just venting and not looking for sympathy or anything. I just know that a group of mothers would understand this more than anyone else.