It's Not Fair

I was reading Cecily's blog today. Yesterday was her sons' due date. It must have been an incredibly tough day. Due date's are weird things. There's such anticipation surrounding them, and babies generally don't like them anyway. But you just can't help but see them as the finish line, the day when someone will hand you a baby and you'll start a new life. I imagine I'll be a wreck come June 28th.

It's not fair. It's not fair that she's not taking home two beautiful little twin boys. It's not fair that she's not worried about how much they're eating, or whose diaper she changed last. It's not fair that her boobs don't ache and she's not wondering about how much breast milk she's making. It's just not fair.

It's not fair that Sarah had a fatal birth defect. It's not fair that her brain didn't divide properly, or that the hemispheres weren't properly formed. It's not fair that I'm not hormonal (okay, I'm still hormonal). But, strangely enough, I never expected it to be.

I never thought that life was fair. I never thought that I was going to have a life without pain, just because I wanted one. I even knew that suffering was a chance to become closer to God. C.S. Lewis said something to the effect of, God whispers to us in our joy and screams at us in our pain.

And this has brought me incredibly close to God. I literally found myself on my knees in a state of humility I've never experienced before. This hurts so much that I had no choice but to throw myself on the Mercy of my God and put Him completely in control. Because no matter what I did, the control wasn't mine. I couldn't fix it.

So now I'm left with the reality of the unfairness, and a general pissed-offedness that comes and goes with my Celtic temper. There are moments of joy here and there, especially when the kids laugh. There's also a sense of dread that comes from time to time. But I feel as if I'm seeing the world from a new perspective. I don't know where my road as a mother leads from this point. We're still doing schoolwork, and housework, and we still play. But I am not the woman I was before, and I'm not sure who I am now.