No. 4 // Good Days. Bad Days. And when it's both, at the same time.

I woke up yesterday feeling pretty defeated. It didn't make any sense but there it was.

The past week we've been riding high on the exuberant nature that is reaching the end of the agency to-do list and officially being listed "in the book". This should be a celebratory moment. One with champagne and high-fives and just an intense relief to having completed ALL the steps necessary to become a waiting family. 

It should feel like that but there I was, feeling that the one thing I want most in the world was so, so far away from my current state.. 

And to be completely honest, I didn't want to write this post or own up to these feelings because they feel so impossible to try to convey in a way that doesn't feel like I'm asking for sympathy and, well, they are just tough; both to experience and to communicate. We have so much to be thankful for and so many reasons to be hopeful and it genuinely feels self-indulgent to even acknowledge experiencing these days of "off" but they do exist. And I think it's important to at least give a nod of recognition of them because not only do I hope I'm not alone in these emotions but I know that they can be hard for even our closest friends and family to understand (especially with how infrequently I talk about them). 

To put it simply, most days I'm fine. More than fine. Happiest Oho on the block. Until the day we have that little one in our arms, there likely will always be an undercurrent of wishing and hoping but most days I jump out of bed before the sun, ready to tackle to-do lists and whatever life has in store for me. 

And then there are days where the longing of motherhood is so painfully acute and unfulfilled that it is hard for me to shake the emptiness of that. 

The depths to which I long to be a mom took me by surprise. For someone who started out not knowing if that would ever be in my future, I am continually astonished at how vivid that desire feels in my heart in this time of waiting. 

Yesterday, in the pains of a day that felt off-kilter caused by nothing other than just being like every other day, there's nothing to do but just to live that particular day, give that longing to God and hope that tomorrow feels differently.

It's not the easy answer. The easy answer is to fix. To try and do something that furthers our journey and gets us that much closer to our desire. The easy answer is to view our situation from the negative - to see all the ways in which we have felt wronged. Four years of infertility, medical & adoption costs, heartache and still, those empty arms that long to spend sleepless nights snuggling a newborn, changing diapers and wrestling with parental angst.
The hard answer is simply trusting that God is working when it feels like nothing is happening. To trust that, ultimately, nothing we say or do or write or print has any bearing on who our Mini Oho is meant to be. To know that "fixing" won't actually fix anything and certainly won't make it happen any faster. To view the past 4 years as a time where our marriage faced it's biggest and baddest hardship to date and came out fortified in a way that brings me to tears just thinking about it. To acknowledge that yes, the last four years have been brutal but they've made us more resilient, given us a sense of humor in impossible situations and have been preparing our hearts to be parents to this little one in a way that will be necessary. 

As a person who is utterly human, on days that are hard I want the easy answer. To fix. To be allowed to indulge in feelings of unfairness. But I know, for myself, the only way to kick myself out of those feelings of "off" is to accept that longing exists inside our hearts but know the wait has a purpose. 

So today, this morning, I am choosing to live the hard answer. Trusting when it's hard. And living inside of a verse that has become a stronghold in my life, Isaiah 58:11. 

β€œAnd the LORD will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.”


Melissa Oholendt