Longing for a stranger

Today, I got a little angry with God.

Mark and I have been trying to get pregnant for a bit now, and despite our best efforts, it isn't happening. Again. With Lily it took around 8-9 months, and Mark and I still talk about that time with alot of angst. Him because I was a psychotic hormonal crazy person, me because the longing for a baby was way beyond anything I have ever experienced.

I have always known I was meant to be a mother. I have always loved children and been a mother hen in every way. When I got my first job it was in childcare, and I never saw a need to do anything else. For 16 years I took care of other people's precious babies, all the while knowing that one day I would have my own.

So when Mark and I decided to start trying (or rather I decided and he reluctantly agreed), I expected it to happen really easily. Boy was I wrong. It was months of such an up and down roller coaster of emotions I can't even begin to describe it. I drove my poor husband crazy. I cried, I tested, I cried some more. Eventually I gave up. And then it happened. My sweet Lily.

Anyhow, we are at that point again. Actively trying, hoping, waiting. And this time, it's not such a mad rush. I know I can concieve. I already have one child to take my mind off of things. But oh the longing. It is beyond anything I could ever describe this time, because I know exactly what I am longing for.

Sweet fluttery kicks. A rounded belly, blossoming with life. Tiny clothes and breastmilk and the smell of a newborn babys head. A sweet little one snuggled in a sling against me.

Today I saw a newborn baby at the store. You know, the tiniest of tiny. A few days old, with the sweet newborn baby cap and gown and the cry that sounds part duck, part cat. The feeling that rose up in me when I walked around the corner to see this baby was one of deep sadness, longing, and then, anger. In my mind I was asking God- "Why not me?" and then "Please, God, tell me why this isn't happening for me?"

As usual, on this subject, He is silent.

I don't think there is any worse feeling than longing for a baby. It is desperate and sweet and is like a knife to the heart everytime you see a little one. It just plain hurts. I think about this tiny spirit waiting to be given life. I look around our dinner table and feel someone is missing.

I know patience is absolutely essential here. My body will concieve when the time is right. But until that happens, I will be longing for this little stranger to come and rest below my heart. I will long for him to be born of my body and nurtured by my breats. I will long for the scent of his head and the downy weight of his body in my arms.