It has been such a lonely week for me. The news that our most recent IVF didn’t work left me feeling alienated. Friends and family are sympathetic, but they are so far away that their concern is of small comfort. The ladies I work with have largely ignored my failed cycle, though they were supportive and very interested in the entire process prior to the bad news. Only one co-worker offered an “I’m so sorry.”
Your father, well, he is so preoccupied with work this week. He’s working 13-14 hour days. He’s gone before I wake up and by the time he gets home, it’s late and we’re both tired. Last night, as he held me in his arms before we went to sleep he asked me, “are you OK?” Of course, I said I was, because I am. But then again, I’m not.
This loneliness is not new. No one tells you when you say “I do” to an active duty military man that you’ll have a lot of lonely days ahead of you. And, why should they? That would ruin all the fun of finding out for yourself just how difficult it is to move to a new place every few years and start over from scratch.
I adore your father. He is an attentive and supportive husband. He loves me when I’m not very loveable and he has always given me a soft place to land. He makes me laugh every day. When I think of all the paths I might have taken in my life, I know one thing is certain – I was meant to be his wife.
But, that doesn’t lessen the pain of being far away from family and friends -- especially in times like these. What I would give for a few hours with an old friend.
I guess that’s one of the reasons I started this blog – hoping to find some “virtual friends,” hoping we could help each other out with a kind word and an understanding heart. So I found myself this morning drifting along in cyberspace reading the thoughts of others who have traveled this road.
Wallowing in my own self pity, as I have been for more than a week now, I came upon the blog of a woman who finally got her baby – he was born last August after many years of treatments and failures and heartache – only to find that her husband has an incurable cancer. The treatments have failed to stop the disease and, barring a miracle, her husband will die. She is busy now, planning what will probably be their first and last family vacation and helping her husband make plans for his funeral.
The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Mama’s pity part is over, Rowan.
Well, at least for now.