“Water, over time, destroyed this smooth land, and made it beautiful. I’m sure the land was upset as it happened. Now, I bet it boasts. Life, over time, can carve away the life you thought you’d lead, the plans you made. But it’s busy, slowly, slowly, working.” – Jedidiah Jenkins
Today is my last blood draw. Hopefully I will get a call in a few days from my doctor saying this chapter of my life is over and I’m able to move on to the next chapter. I’m calling this a chapter in my life because it is just part of my story. A period of time that carved away the life I thought I’d lead and the plans I made.
For the last hour, I’ve been sitting in the waiting next to a mom and her infant. Hearing a baby cry and laugh makes me want to cry and laugh. It’s torture in some ways and healing in others. Everyone here assumes I’m getting a blood test because I’m pregnant. I’m sitting next to another gal getting the same test because she is pregnant. I should be pregnant. I should be a month away from holding my own crying baby in a waiting room. But in other ways, I know being forced to be around other pregnant moms and babies is what helps me heal. A few months ago this would have reduced me to tears, but today I find myself smiling when I hear that baby laugh. And even though I can feel the sadness rising in my throat, there aren’t any tears.
Closing this chapter is really bittersweet. It’s bittersweet because I’m obviously I’m ready to put some of this behind me. I want to be done with being a human pincushion. I want to be done sitting in waiting rooms, waiting for phone calls, and praying I don’t need chemotherapy. There’s a lot of waiting after a molar pregnancy.
But I’m not ready to put everything behind me. Every day pushes me farther into the future, away from the days of being pregnant. And I loved being pregnant! It’s such an amazing thing that we are able to create a life. I’m dreading my due date, because it’s a date that has been special in my heart for a long time and I’m worried the actual day won’t be special at all now, just another Tuesday. I’m trying to feel happy to be “free” from my molar pregnancy, but I feel sad making plans to do things during a time when I had thought I’d be caring for my newborn. And I’m scared to move forward. As much as I don’t want to be stuck in this place I’m scared to see what the next place holds for me.
Time is a bizarre thing. I remember back in January, they told me they thought I’d be cleared in 1-3 months before we got the molar diagnosis. Three months sounded like an eternity and I assumed my heart would be healed in that amount of time. It wasn’t. It’s been 6 months and I’m not healed. It amazes me that in 9 months we can create a human life but can’t heal our very human hearts. I can’t believe I ever thought I’d be “over it” by now…because now I know you never get over it. A mother doesn’t stop loving her child. A grieving mother never stops missing her child. It’s hard for me to call myself a mother, because my arms are empty, but I am a mother in my heart. Just like the Love You Forever book goes “as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.”
Just like that, time marches on – carving a new life and new plans.
“Time is very slow for those who wait. Very fast for those who are scared. Very long for those who lament. Very short for those who celebrate. But for those who love, time is eternal.” -William Shakespeare