for the many

First of all.... I have been craving E.L. Fudge cookies for a solid week. You know the little vanilla sandwich cookies that look like the Keebler Elves with chocolate icing in the middle? I think it's because those were my FAVORITE when I was a little girl. When I was in third grade my mom was a teacher at my school. I kept asking if I could pack my own lunch, and one day she agreed that I could. I had a Lisa Frank lunch pail that would've made any 90's girl jealous. Unicorns, mermaids, flamingos, the whole gaudy Lisa Frank nine yards. I packed my lunch and got in the car to go to school with mom. I hung out in mom's room until it was time for me to go to my classroom. I guess at some point, Mrs. Thomas ( aka mom) checked my lunch, just to see what I had come up with. Mom usually packed a sammie, chips, fruit, drink, occasionally an awesome Lil Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pie, and a love note. ( Notes in your lunch really are the best!) I scampered off to class and dropped my lunch in my cubbie. 11:05 rolled around and we went to lunch. I opened my lunch box and found a note. It read as follows:

LB,
11 E.L. Fudge cookies does not count as a lunch. Don't do this again.
Love,
Mom

Ya'll I literally packed 11 E.L. Fudge cookies and NOTHING ELSE for my lunch. That's gotta be close to a whole sleeve. What's kinda cool is that my mom didn't take them away. I got to about cookie 3 and realized I was hungry for real food and went and got my school lunch card and ate Frito Chili Pie like any other healthy person... with extra cheese and canned peach slices... and chocolate milk.  I have not indulged my craving.. but if I do, I can eat as many as I want because I'm a grown up now...

Just don't tell Mrs. Thomas :)



When I found out I was pregnant I couldn't help but think about all the people who I knew had been trying, struggling, believing, begging and still were not pregnant. I know all too well the sting of seeing the Facebook announcement of another person sharing their joy. You want to be happy... you are happy for them... but their joy, and it IS joy, they should feel that way, is a reminder of your pain, your failure, your loss. It's an odd thing to be both genuinely happy for some one and jealous of them all at the same time. When I began to think about telling people, I knew that there were some who I would hurt. I knew that they would be happy for me, rejoice with me, but I also knew that this time, my joy would cause a sting, a twinge... it might even cause pain. That was a tough pill. I have bonded with countless women over loss, over grief, over understanding their darkest moments. We have walked a road that not everyone understands. When they told me about crying themselves to sleep or falling apart when a co worker announced an unplanned pregnancy I could share sobbing all the way home from baby showers and then feeling guilty because I loved the person who was pregnant, I really did, but that two hour come and go shower was torture. I could tell them about sitting in a bathroom stall weeping and keeping my hand tight over my mouth so that if anyone came in they wouldn't know that I was crying because once again, I wasn't pregnant. How could I possibly deliver a blow like that to them? I was the one that they could relate to. I was the one who wrote exactly what they were thinking, typed out their exact feelings, expressed their anger, their troubles, the ugly stuff that nobody wants to deal with.

I understand both sides of the coin. I understand the grief one can feel when it seems that every month it's not " your turn". I understand the smile you wear ( 99 percent real) when someone you love shares with you that they're having a baby. I understand the 1 percent that wants to scream and throw a fit and say " what about me?" And now... I understand the joy. The uncontrollable joy that comes with crossing the finish line to week 12 and thinking... we're doing this. This just got real. I understand sharing on Facebook and getting "likes" and tons of comments and feeling so loved. I understand just blurting it out to people at work and they scream and giggle and do little happy dances. I have now experienced both. Both are deeply emotional, both are real and you know what, both are OK. It's ok to be a little hurt, a little sad for yourself and maybe even a little mad. It's also going to be OK when it's your turn and you rent an airplane with a banner that says " We're pregnant!"

I guess tonight, this is for " the many". The many women who are still waiting, still praying, still hoping. For the ones who are weary. For the many who know that pursuing motherhood will be costly for them, whether it be financially, emotionally or both. For the many who swear that that stick is the last one they'll ever pee on and have closed the door for the time being. For the many who are looking to science, surrogates, adoption... whatever it takes to be called "mommy". This is for you, because I love you, because I have seen both sides, because I want you to know, you're not alone. For the many I love, the many I didn't want to hurt, the many I hope to inspire....


Lord make a way
you always make a way


It's not always YOUR way reader, remember that.

Make a way for " the many". You know them by name.
You know their children's names
Your will be done


Baby Smith,
I was thinking about you today. I can't wait until you fall asleep with your mouth hanging open and drool on my shoulder. I can't wait until you hold my hand. I can't wait until you have so many little friends to play with. Their mom's read this blog and they prayed for you just like I'm praying for them. It's going to be so good. You can pack your lunch sometimes, but I'm checking it. I'll always check it.

We press on,
LB