I’ve noticed that I typically post about infertility once a month. And apparently, I do it when I am PMSing. Funny, that. And I suppose it is for that very reason that my posts about infertility tend to be slightly ranting in nature. I wrote this less ranting post a week ago, but it seemed an odd juxtoposition to post it while I was in the middle of the contest. You know like, “I can’t have babies, vote for me!” Awkward, isn’t it? Right.
October marked an odd month for me this year. Last year in October, I was pregnant for about a minute. Last year in October, Jeff held me with his hands resting on my stomach. “This is sad” he’d mumbled into my hair.
This October we hadn’t even been trying. But I still irrationally expected to be pregnant. Like, maybe there was some sort of magic about October, as though the month itself made babies. I chewed on my nails, waited three minutes, threw the test in the trash and sighed. There was nothing special about October after all.
Then I came across this song and I drove for awhile through our windy country roads, letting the lyrics wash over my heart. Of course there was nothing special about October. It was never October. It’s just that I so badly want to know the ending. I want it to be my version of beautiful. I want it to be my arms that someone is resting in.
But when I’m not looking for bits of magic or meaning in months, I know that at the end of it all, I just want to be in His arms. In November I’m not going to try to get pregnant. In November, I’m going to shop for a Christmas tree and teach a class and generally do things that make me happy. That’s why I have eaten seven Hershey bars today.
This video is cheesy, by the way, but the song is beautiful.
