Sunday, March 9, 2008

Sigh... That "Hair-Cut-High" used to last so much longer....

Was feeling a little down towards the end of the week. Wednesday night, I taught my 3 4-6 grade girls, who didn't want to have a lesson because there were only 3 girls there, and went HOME, to my quiet house. I didn't want to see anybody, I didn't want to talk to anybody, I just wanted to be ALONE. Thursday I was grouchy and grumpy but put on a smiling face, did my job, and came home. Friday, wash, rinse, repeat. Except I didn't go home. My older sister called to see if I was busy. She wanted a hair cut, and didn't have anyone to watch her boys. Funny, I had standing in the mirror that morning thinking about how I needed a change. I met her at the local mall, and we took turns watching the boys and getting a new 'do. I shelled out the big bucks, too.
Back in the day, in extremely early college years, a haircut did so much. Difficult times, then, too, trying to recover from some abuse by a former boyfriend, and it's amazing at the control I felt I had when I got my hair cut!! I know, it seems ridiculous now, but then that was all it took to make me feel better for at least a week! The shorter it got, the more control I had, the happier I was, the less I cried. I didn't care that I looked like a boy, it actually kind of helped, because I wasn't wanting much attention from guys, understandably. I didn't want to date, I didn't want to flirt, I just wanted to be left alone.
So, back to Friday. I felt.... Better, but not as good as losing a few inches used to make me feel. Before, even tuff stuff didn't get me down after the, er, mane event. Tonight after church (after my first time teaching (5) 2-6-year-olds, which is actually easier than (3) 4-6 graders!!!), some of us went out to eat. The old group that used to go out every Sunday night, before the rest of them started having kids. One is currently expecting, the other has IF issues and one child that will likely be their only child. Went to a popular restaurant that serves good, country food, where lots of other people go as well. Saw one of my sister's friends from high school, who has a small child with beautiful dark curls, a perfect angel baby... Their miracle child, the child the doctors said would be impossible to have. Now, I would love to be one of those sunny people who said "Wow!! What a miracle!! I'm sure the same will happen for US one day!!!" But I'm more realistic than that. I don't doubt God can, don't get me wrong... If he can make a virgin become pregnant, there's hope for us yet. I know He CAN... But let's face it, I've been called negative before (I'm not negative, I say, just realistic)... No, instead, I look around and see all these babies and big bellies, and wonder why we can't just be normal like everyone else, for once. Why must it be so difficult for us? Then I think about who will one day be our precious child. Not sure about the nationality yet, I don't know what color of skin, hair, eyes, to imagine, but I love that child all the same. I know our family will not be the same without that child. I know we will slip into a routine and wonder what we did before we adopted our kids. I like to believe that one day, it won't matter that I'm a barren woman, and I won't feel so left out when I'm chasing my own children around the store. I won't be the stand-in baby-sitter, or the rescuer of other people's kids, I'll just be Mama.
But it still hurts to watch everyone else do things the "normal" way.... And why do I care about doing this one thing the "normal" way, when I've always prided myself on doing my own thing before? And why does it have to be "normal" to give birth, while so many people view adoption as a second option? Even though I would give a lot (but not everything!) to be pregnant, adoption is far from a second choice. No matter what else our future holds, we WILL adopt.

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