I've been there many times before. Every time I pull in the parking lot, I drive by the signs that say "for laboring mothers." I walk by women in the parking lot - some older, some new moms huffing an infant carrier, some career women taking a personal day, some young girls that should be sitting in English class rather than be at the doctor. Everyone there's got a story, and I would be lying if I said I didn't try to figure each one out as I sit silently waiting for my name to be called.
For the women who has never been pregnant, the waiting room of the ob/gyn is pure torture.
Gosh, I wish I was past this. I wish I could hitch up my big girl panties and own our infertility. I wish I could celebrate all the new life being nurtured in that office instead of judging the age or life situation of the expectant mothers. I wish that my visits with the doctor were for new life being created, rather than making sure my life and health isn't being destroyed by cancer.
My last few yearly visits have gone off without a hitch. At first, I got to share news of our new baby (Levi), and that joy sustained me through several years of The Waiting Room. Who cares that I missed out on pregnancy - I had a baby! A toddler! A preschooler! No lump in my throat, very minimal judgy feelings.
Today was so different and I was caught completely off guard.
Today I was also an expectant mom in the waiting room.
An expectant mom without a due date.
The knot formed in my throat when I walked back the hall. The blood pressure cuff almost caused me an anxiety attack. "I could just get up and leave right now. I could just go home," I actually thought. When the nurse closed the door and it was time for me to change, I shed my clothes and my tears. When the doctor asked about family planning, my eyes would stop leaking.
Why are we so ashamed of our tears? Why do we fight so badly to hold them back and hide them? When they sneak out of our eyes and down our cheek, why are we so quick to apologize for them?
You know what I learned about tears today? They revealed the truth in my heart. The refreshing bittersweet longing that I knew was there but hadn't really felt or yet admitted the extent. The truth that we have already been moving towards but seems so intangible at times...
I want a baby.