At Last!

Have you ever worked so hard to guard yourself from something that when it came time to let down the walls, a battle between your heart and mind ensued? For the last five and a half years Chris and I have slowly but surely built our defenses against the pain of infertility by blocking any related emotions. We couldn't go about our everyday lives fighting back tears and heartache.... life had to go on. So we did what we had to do in order to face each day with not only a brave face but an unreachable heart where children were concerned. After all those years of practice though, it has been difficult to accept the changes.... even though the changes are really, really good.

While on our cruise we actually had to practice saying "our son" out loud and had to push our feet forward when it came to entering a children's clothing shop in one port. Since bringing our son home we have had to remind ourselves that we aren't babysitting and that nobody is going to come and take him away. You see, our hearts are willing to go there (as the heart often is when it comes to loving and experiencing the joys of life). What is getting in the way is our brains. It is that part of us that keeps calling us to check... "Are you sure you want to go there? Remember, it hurts when you go in that direction. Are you sure you want to say that out loud? You risk it being taken away and feeling all the worse for it. Are you sure? Are you sure? Are you sure?"

Cameron has been with us for over seven weeks now and still we feel the need to pinch one another. The battle between the head and heart rages on. For the first time though, we find ourselves cautiously tiptoeing over the line of fear. Our son is real... he isn't going anywhere... and yes, we can explore toy departments, childen's clothing sections and even call ourselves "Mommy" and "Daddy" without fearing that a lighting bolt will strike our happiness away. What a glorious awakening!

As many "firsts" as Cameron is having, Chris and I are having just as many. Yesterday marked a milestone for one of my firsts... Mother's Day. Before our child planning years Chris and I celebrated Mother's Day for the sheer enjoyment of putting our own Mom's on a pedestal and saying "Thank You" for all that they had done. God has blessed us both with great Moms. However, as infertility plagued our relationship, the celebration of Mother's Day changed. The purpose was still the same but we battled our own hurts. We wished our Mom's and friends and anyone who crossed our paths a happy day all the while hiding the tears in our eyes and the overwhelming and growing ache in our hearts. We never missed church on or around Mother's Day even though I found myself forcing back tears the entire service. Our church tried to be gentle by not only celebrating Mother's but also women in general. Still, that selfishly powerful pain kept making it all about my loss. Some friends who also have battled infertility chose to stay home rather than face that battle again... I can't say that I blamed them.

So there I was yesterday in the same church I've been in for years, with the same people I've called friends for some time now, celebrating the same day that has both thrilled and tortured me. Only, on this occasion I was (gulp) a Mom. For the first time, Chris and I beamed and soaked up every well wisher's wish. At last (our Etta James theme in life) it was our turn. Because of our beautiful baby boy I was able to join the ranks of motherhood. Because of his birth mommies brave sacrifice, my dreams were allowed to come true. How amazed I am even now as I write this.

During the service a video was played about a mother's love. I found myself fighting back tears. Not the selfish tears of old but the familiar tears for my sisters in life who have not yet won the battle. My heart ached alongside theirs as another Mother's Day brought familiar hurts their way once again. How I pray all the more fervently for them now... Lord, please take their sadness away.

And so here I sit knowing where I came from only weeks ago and seeing where I'm now allowed to go because of my son and my heart and mind continue to battle. The heart is winning but, admittedly, I hope the mind doesn't stop pestering me all together. May my prayers be faithful daily for those whose arms are still empty and may I appreciate daily this gift that keeps my arms full and warm.

At Last!