empty space//

“it was an accident! we weren’t even trying!” how can mere words carry within them such immense pain? how can phrases hold hopelessness? i am trying. we are trying. trying to hold onto the belief that there is a way. there must be a way.

“just wait. your time will come.” and while i believe that truth, my time is not now. our time has not come so we wait. we wait in silence and in other moments; loud anger. we wait and mourn the loss of a baby never born. one never held or kissed or touched. we sit still and in following moments, pace. we pace back and forth waiting for that second line. just one more line.

waiting. why must it be so hard? for the majority of my twenty four years on this earth i have wanted two things; to be fully known and loved and to fully know love. my husband knows me in all that I am and chooses to pour out the fullest of loves. he chooses to see my insecurities and faults and love me in spite of. while I have the entirety of the first, i still long for the latter. i know love. love is waking up early for goodbye kisses knowing full well these moments will not be forever. love is late night whispers and words exchanged over homemade meals. love is all of these things and immeasurably more.

but the love that is described by women who have been adorned with the title of mother; i long to know the fullness of that love. to know the weight and burden it is to love someone with all the depth of yourself and know that even in all that you are, you wish there was more you were able to give. i long to feel both the fullness and emptiness of receiving, giving and pouring out daily all that i am. i yearn for the becoming that will be as i one day become a mother.

while i wait in preparation, i also dream. i dream of playdoh crusted tables, and toy covered floors. i dream of long nights followed by early morning snuggles in a bed full of the sweetest toes. i dream of the teaching and learning, both building and breaking and all that it will mean to be a mother. i dream. i dream because i cannot stop. i aspire and i hope. i hope because I cannot imagine not hoping. not believing that there is a way. there must be a way.

written on february ninth, twenty nineteen