Day O Birth musings

Tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. I know in most circles I find myself the youngest, but as tomorrow approaches, I'm beginning to feel old . Not all the time. Not when I'm tossing toddlers in the air. Not as I lay beside Anna looking out at the beautiful Gulf of Mexico, my skin caked with a mixture of salt air and sunscreen. Not as I log onto my online class to complete yet another mindless assignment separating me from my illusive master's degree. And definitely not as I peruse the scriptures, marveling at how great my God is. But when I notice the wrinkles on my mother's hands- I feel it. When I scroll through the contacts on my phone and realize eighty percent of them are work contacts- I feel it. When I see girls who I remember wearing braces holding their babies- I feel it. And when I think about the fact that I am not at all looking forward to tomorrow more than any other day, I really feel it.

More and more I'm feeling old. And the older I feel, the more afraid I get. It's almost been a year since DH and I have used any protection. And yet. No offspring. Not even a hint of offspring. And I'm afraid, that it's just a preview of things to come. As I get older my fertility is not going to be improving. And as I get older the longing is getting stronger and stronger. The longing to nurture, to love, to embrace, and to provide for is so strong. Sometimes I feel as if it could overtake me. Especially when one of the children at work slips and calls me "mama" or when they cry, and throw themselves into my arms for comfort, or even as I sit in the school pick up line, waiting for their darling faces to appear. The little tastes of motherhood are more that I can take. Autism or no, I love these little people as if they were my own, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish at least one of them were.

I'm starting out my tomorrow with a visit to the evil DR W. However, she is sick, so I will surely be seen by someone else (praise Jesus!) The AF like bleeding has not gone away. If anything it has gotten heavier, and is being accompanied by more and more symptoms. Each time I use the restroom I can't decide whether to be delighted by the fact that something at least seems to be working (even if it is a little too zealous) or to be dismayed by the fact that it's not over yet. DH is also dismayed, as you can imagine. At least with no AF you can bd anytime. A 20+ day AF kind of puts a damper on the mood if you know what I mean. Baby wishes to all and to all a goodnight.