There is a wonderful song called "Honest Questions" by Daniel Bedingfield. The lyrics move me to tears almost every time I listen to it. The opening lyric is beautiful in and of itself, "Can you see the honest questions in my heart this hour, opening like a flower to the rain?"
This line often finds itself a home in my mind, repeating over and over as I struggle to quiet my psyche. Last night it came to me as I laid awake in bed at 3 am, counting down the moments until I would have to get up and start my day. It has a meditative quality- as it sings itself inside my head, I feel the questioning words being offered up as a prayer to the Universe, "and do you know the silent sorrows of a never ending journey, through the pain?".
My husband and I are hoping to start a family, and I found out about a week ago that the fertility issues I have just blossomed into a larger obstacle than we expected. I have PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) and in addition, it turns out that my body, my ovaries specifically, aren't producing any eggs to be fertilized. The first round of drugs didn't cause me to ovulate, which means my statistic chances of getting pregnant just shrunk. There is still a possibility that different drugs or stronger doses will help my body produce eggs to be fertilized, and my husband and I are not by any means giving up. It is important however to be honest with myself. And to take a good hard look at how I've been living.
It is very easy you see, to tell yourself that you will be happy "when". When I get a better job. When I loose 20 pounds. When I marry a great person. When I become a mother. I feel that it is so imperative to love yourself and be content right where you are- in each moment. This doesn't mean one should ignore growing opportunities or not have goals, hopes and dreams.
This circumstance that I am in...wanting desperately nothing else so much as to be a mom...it has me asking an honest question. If I am not to be a mother, who will I be? Ever since I was a little girl, when I thought about being a grown woman it was inside the parameters of being a mom. If I cannot be happy until I am one- that is no kind of life.
Who will I be? I will be a friend, daughter, wife, musician and a dreamer. And someday, I hope I will be a mother. I will type through the blurry haze of fresh tears and not stop hoping, believing and being grateful.
