i have been avoiding this space for awhile now, blaming my absence on lingering illness or fatigue or lack of anything worthwhile to say. then the urge will rise in me to make an attempt to connect here and I quickly suppress it because I feel....scared. too tired. not ready. inadequate. like i am still searching and coming up dry. and yet the more time passes the more daunting the task of mining these emotions feels. so I decided today to open the valve just a little bit to release some of the pressure and see what happens. maybe a trickle comes forth or maybe a flood ensues.... i will wear waders.
i am pregnant.
and am now resisting the urge to close the laptop after those three words.
those words are so charged for me, so charged for any woman who carries them in her heart. for me, what is first to arise is the past, in a huge tidal wave. the lengthy journey of infertility frought with loneliness,fear, confusion, and invasion. I still wave that tattered flag with (albeit wounded) pride. I weathered that storm for almost 5 years and when the rains stopped, a beautiful healthy girl had come into the world. and for the first year of her life I felt immense, constant gratitude that my daughter was here and that my world had become somehow complete. but then desire began to reappear at the door, in a dangerously mutated state, and I did everything I could to avoid the sound of those bony knuckles tapping.
i had my girl. how could I begin to allow myself to feel entitled to the dream of another child joining our family? and so I began to revert into my old mastered pattern of building a maze of walls around and between my heart and mind and spirit so that i could distort and deflect the sound of the growing call of my deepest darkest heart.
I love my walls. I need my walls. they support me. they protect me. they defend me. but what i have discovered is that they also lie to me. and sometimes it is in the way that a best friend lies to you: nobly, with the best intentions driving their deceit. but other times they lie to you to hold you back from your own strength.
and so here i am. 15 weeks into a surprise pregnancy that entered our lives intimately, ushered by grace. and as I am discovering more and more with each passing day, there is no power stronger, or more gentle, than grace in its ability to tear down those walls.
i know myself. i will build them again. but i will remember to leave out the mortar.
p.s. i know that a couple of you who might read this may be close friends who I have not shared this news with yet and who would expect to hear this type of news from me directly. I ask for you to respect how I have chosen to share this and hope that you trust the strength of our bonds enough to know that not sharing this one-on-one with you does nothing to compromise my love for you.