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Waiting & Wishing

Do you ever feel as if your life is all about waiting? As if you just never get to that thing you’ve been waiting for? And when you do, the next step is still out further ahead of you? Waiting is exhausting…

As far back as I can remember I’ve been waiting… In grade school I couldn’t wait for high school. In high school I couldn’t wait for college. In college I couldn’t wait to graduate and enter the ‘real world’. Then I learned the real world wasn’t at all as I pictured I wished for my easy college life back. I worked full-time and attended classes toward my MBA and wished for those stressful years to pass too.

I met my ex-husband in undergrad and instantly he became my world. I waited for a diamond, and once it came I awaited our wedding day. Once married I waited until he was ready to start a family, and then waited a year as each month passed and still, no positive pregnancy test. I spent lots of nights waiting for him to call, as he worked overnight shifts and made a point to call and say good night. On weekends I waited for him to arrive home in the morning after his shift. I waited for him to agree to adopt a puppy, and finally Charley joined our family. I waited for him to find more time to spend with me, I waited for him to open up to me, but eventually I waited to know our fate. I waited to file for divorce and then ultimately waited for it to be final. I waited for the sadness to pass, for the loneliness to subside, for life to seem happy again.

I waited for my family to deal with my divorce, for them to understand it was what I wanted. I waited for myself to heal, as ironically, being the one who wished for the divorce doesn’t make the process any easier. I waited to feel normal again, and I did, but it took years.

I waited to meet someone new, vowed to find my perfect love, someone who would drop everything for me. Someone who would love me in a way I didn’t think my ex-husband could. I met lots of nice guys, and plenty of not so nice guys too. I waited for them to call, email, text…

A very close girlfriend introduced me to Eric… He was different from others I’d met. He was professional, and smart, and driven, and motivated, and so much more. And I waited. For him to live with me. For him to marry me. For him to even suggest we look at diamonds. And when we did, I waited for it to be created, as the designer assured us it would only take a month or two. And I waited. And he proposed, and I awaited our wedding, which was wonderful and special and everything I wanted. But then I waited more, for him to return from work each evening. For the 90+ hour work weeks to end. For the out-of-town rotations to be over. I still wait for his calls and texts during his busy days. I wish to, for once, to come before his patients in the ER. I wish for dinners not interrupted by his pager. I wait for his residency to be complete, to start our lives together. For some sense of normalcy in our lives and schedules.

I waited for Eric to be ready to add to our family. And I waited. And finally he was ready, and we waited, and waited, every month for another year, together we waited and wished. We watched friends meet the loves of their lives, get married, get pregnant, have babies, have more babies… The lives of others taking off around us. While we still wait. We watch as others move and start their lives in new cities, and still we wait for Eric to finish his residency. (His own damn fault for picking a field with a 6 year residency!)

We waited for our infertility tests results, and to schedule our IUIs, and the 14 days after each, which we were so very familiar with. We waited to discuss our next options, waited for our IVF appointment, and still find ourselves waiting, just two more days now to begin this process officially. We’ve waited to tell some, and waited for reactions from others. We’ve waited for advice and support.

I still wait for good-night phone calls, from Eric now. I wait for him to tell me it will all work out, that we will be parents soon. I wait to get excited. And I’ve waited to purchase anything baby related, for fear we will wait forever. I’m waiting to discover where Eric and I will move in 512 days, and wish that a child will move with us. And I realize… Maybe it’s not the waiting that is the hard part. Maybe the waiting is what keeps us going, what structures our life, our relationships, our purpose. Maybe the waiting is the living… Maybe there will come a day I stop waiting and wish I could continue waiting…

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