I just want to slap myself and scream, "Listen to reason! You will probably not ever be a mother."

I am not feeling as horrible as I was but I am still so frustrated and just... #angry and #disappointed and #hurt, I guess. I would have loved to just passively wait indefinitely, if it was not for the crazy emotions and #obsession that goes along with it. Then, maybe one day in the near future, I'd think to myself, "hmm I haven't gotten my period in so very long, and I have little belly forming, and I feel slightly nauseous", and I'd take a test and the mythical Two Pink Lines would appear and I'd be #pregnant! How did that even happen after waiting for so long for motherhood? What a lovely little surprise! Teehee. 

Or - I'd think to myself one day "hmm I never had a #child, I never did get pregnant. Ohh well! Off to finish out my life with my dearest #husband and live the wonderful life we wouldn't quite have been able to live if children were involved", and then I would hug my nieces and nephews and smile, content with my life. (Long drawn-out sigh)

However, that is only fantasy. Like those Duane Read store commercials where everything is perfect. 

The problem is, I still want to be a mom more than anything in the world. Despite my age or not having a husband, I still have [#false] #hope and I thought, right now, that is the thing that makes me angry the most. I just want to slap myself and scream, "Listen to reason! You will probably not ever be a #mother." My logical side knows this but I have wished and hoped for so long, I do not know how to stop.

I feel powerless and I definitely do not want to be a #single mom, nor do I want to rush into something with the wrong person just because my old biological clock is low on battery life. Probably, my biggest problem is my logical side saying, if I could just definitively know I will not ever be a mother, and then I can finally begin the long, trying process of moving on. I often wonder, will this #child-free/#child-crazed limbo ever end? I really need it to end before I drive myself crazy or become so depressed that I cannot get out of bed in the morning.

This morning, I was reading about the Immaculate Conception in the Gospel and start to think about Mary, and how she promised her virginity to God.  There were no celibate nuns then; female religious now follow her example. She was the first.

I wonder if I would have been willing to do what she has done. It would not have been easy, that is for sure. If I had done so, would I be so angry and unhappy now? I do not think so. Because Mary made a joyful sacrifice of something she was otherwise entitled to do, to honor God. #Sacrifices are costly, but they can also be #joyful, if the sacrificed is a #gift.  And I thought to myself,  I did not choose to be #childless and that really hurts. I cannot tell myself or anyone else that I offered up my children to honor God or anybody else. I did not. There was no generosity and no offer. Instead, the ordinary joyful family life was taken away.

Moreover, as the situation pointed out in its very thoughtful way, since I don't know for sure whether I'm to have children or not, I have spent years hoping for the thing that (had it been voluntary) I would simply have given up, and even pursuing medical and legal options to become a #mother. All that pursuit is perfectly legitimate - I should strive against obstacles, to #fulfill my vocation - but if motherhood is not my calling, the loss is not a joyful gift, but a wound made more severe by hope and #prayer for a child I will never have. Not #choosing is completely different. Which is not to say that Mary would not have done a far better job with this life? Her mother did, after all.