18 years and counting

So today, DH and I are celebrating 18 years of being a couple.  We met in high school health class.  The usually boy meets girl.  They become friends and then girl asks boy out and the rest is history.

It has been an amazing adventure with DH.  I could have never predicted our lives today.  When we met all of those years ago we just clicked but honestly we were just friends.  We could just chill and talk.  We went to different colleges several hours apart and seemingly forgot to break-up.  Come December we'll celebrated 12 years of marriage.  Life just has a way of working itself out.

When DH and I first started dating, we would talk about the future in fun not going to be married to you terms.  Who expects to marry their high school sweetheart especially when you are going away to different colleges? We've all heard those stories of long-distance love that grows apart.  We were under no illusion that we would end up together.  DH would talk about naming his sons Mister and Master.  I would laugh at him and tell him he would be lucky to find a woman who would agree to that.  He knows there will be no naming of a son Mister nor Master.  I wanted to be a teacher, plain and simple.  I wanted four kids, maybe five.

So here we are 18 years later.  There is only one child in our lives.  Somedays I wonder why we fought and worked so hard to get a child and then she'll say the right thing and it breaks my heart that she is still an only child.  I would have never pictured being 9 months from turning 35 and with only one child.  I do know that God's timing is perfect.  If I had tried to plan my life it would have been a total mess.  God is in control and while there are days, I know that there is no place else I want to be.  I know to DH the number of children we have does not matter.  One or five as long as we are a happy and together family our size is the least of our concerns.

Having always dreamed of a large family of my own, I have to admit there are days I lose hope.  With the magical ending age of fertility just around the corner, I have to acknowledge that I'm not super cool with the idea of being pregnant after the age of 35.  If we have struggle so much now then surely that door will shut completely then.  I know its not true.  I know it is all in my head and that my being on my period right now, right at the I will be 35+ when I have another baby is just weighting on me.  Age is nothing but a number right?  Still it feels important to say that this was my last chance to be under 35 and have another baby.  Well there is not point crying over an unfertilized egg.  God has a plan and I must just accept and understand that I might not understand the plan for a while.

Today we celebrate 18 years together.  Through thick and thin, richer and poorer, sickness and health, wheat-filled and wheat-free, two dogs to a family with only one and one beautiful blessing of a daughter, I have to say that I would be stupid to question God's timing now.

So tried of crying

In case you haven't noticed I spend a lot of time talking about my feelings. In 6 days we'll be in Virginia for a very special wedding and the timing of the wedding is exactly 2 years from the day we left Southside Virginia. So I am feeling all kinds of emotions. Not too long ago I blogged about the significance this wedding and the special place that the Groom has in my heart so not going over it again. But last night I was sitting at Standpipe and it occurred to me that in 7 days I would be celebrating the wedding in VA. Then you guessed it I started crying. God I hate to cry in public!

DH asked me why I keep crying. A good question and something to think about it. On the way home it occurred to me why I keep crying. I feel guilty. The last time I saw Briana, I hugged her and wished her luck on the final month of her pregnancy and that I couldn't wait to meet Baby J next summer. I didn't know we would never see each other again. I never got to thank her for all of the love and friendship and kindness. I didn't say those things because I felt guilty for leaving and moving back to Texas.

In the months before we moved, Briana and I had talked about why DH and I had decided to moved back. One of the big reasons was we wanted family near by. I remember saying that having Ravebaby had taught us just how alone we were and how you can't count on your friends to drop everything for you like you can family. If you have an emergency you have to hope a friend can help but with family you know you have someone. I remember her saying she was nervous about not having family around. She said that she had been thinking of moving back closer to family too. I remember saying that if I were staying then I knew she would at least have me and I knew that I could always count on her. I said that was the hard part leaving at the time she would need me most. She assured me her mom would be down and everything would be okay. How could we know? How could either of us think that we could give such assurances?

So that's why I keep crying. I cry for the guilt that kept me from thanking her. I cry for the guilt surviving giving birth when she didn't. I cry because I lost my rose colored view of the world when Briana died in childbirth. I learned that very bad things happen to good people.

I try to be grateful for everyday I have. I know nothing is promised and nothing is owed to me. I know that my tears solve nothing. I know that my guilt is a waste of energy and emotion. No matter how much I cry, how much I pray or how guilty I feel Briana is gone. Nothing changes the events of July 28, 2010. I still wake up hopeful and ready to get calls about the arrival of Baby J and instead I get calls of sadness telling Briana didn't make it and Baby J is touch and go. Nothing changes. Life must move forward. Baby J will be two and it will make two years since Briana died. I'm going to stop crying and I'm going to let the guilt go. Nothing can take me back to June 29,2010 and let me say what I need to. Even if I could nothing would change.

June 30th, I'm going to hug the groom and congratulate him and I know Briana is going to be there looking down and enjoying the scene. She would have been so excited for the groom. So life goes on. We grow, we learn, we mourn and we celebrate. Saturday we dance and cry tears of joy. The Groom marries his lady. Everything is as it should be.