For two years, I ingested fertility pills, endured monthly injections, scheduled intimacy, and charted my basal body thermometer readings every morning at six o’clock.
What have I done to warrant such punishment from God? However, avoiding pregnant friends did not ease my pain or subdue my longing. My husband and I purposely socialized with friends who were not expecting or didn’t have children. I began to decline invitations to the multitude of blue-and-pink parties. That just didn’t seem fair, so I determined that God wasn’t fair. Why can’t I get pregnant? What is wrong with me? What have I done to warrant such punishment from God? It seemed my girlfriends were getting pregnant with ease. The desire to be a mother consumed me and my thoughts. And the miracle requires something of us-waiting. We have all been there-sometimes more often than we prefer. Waiting dominated my thoughts as it does for most of us when we’re waiting for the fulfillment of our hopes and dreams.Īnd you? Do you feel the tug of waiting for something but are scared to let yourself dream it will happen? Maybe you are waiting on a miracle. So you can imagine how well I handled waiting to see my dream of motherhood come true. The word patient does not describe me-ask anyone who knows and loves me. Deep down, I am a hurry-up, right-now, please-and-thank-you kind of gal. You need to know something about me: I have never been a wait-and-see kind of girl. Dream number three required me to wait and see. However, after the two years of failing to conceive, I wondered if I would ever sing the childhood rhyme, First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Wendy with a baby carriage. My first two dreams came to pass just as I had planned. Dream came true.īecoming a mother requires … well, you know what it requires. Dream came true.īecoming a wife requires a fella. When I graduated from high school, I was ready to put my plans in motion.īecoming a teacher requires four years of college.
Caring for my dolls, as well as my years of babysitting, prepared me for motherhood. Carol Brady of The Brady Bunch taught me all I needed to know about being a wife.
With chalk in hand and glasses resting on my nose, I practiced being a teacher with my stuffed animals. My little-girl heart dreamed of being all of these one day.
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