The countdown read one month, five days, nineteen minutes and thirty-two seconds when I deleted it from my phone. I received a text Thursday night, but we didn't really know anything for certain until Friday morning. As of yesterday, we are officially on the wait list again. The reasons are long and not worth hashing out here on a public space, but it's been the most difficult twenty-four hours we've experienced in a long time.
It can get overwhelming: the lack of knowing tends to gnaw at you in the deepest places. And now, having to re-structure my brain into an all-together different kind of waiting has been harder than expected. There's the obvious changes - canceling a baby shower set for next weekend, deleting my babycenter account telling me of the baby's progress, and forcing myself to walk past the baby section at Target. But there's also the subtle changes - the way my mind automatically went to the holidays knowing we'd be parents or the baby clothes overflowing from the organizer in our closet. The closet we recently emptied in order to make ready our daughter.
Perhaps I've known for awhile this was coming - I've hinted at the fear of hearing our countdown would turn to never for a few weeks now. You don't anticipate it, though. No matter what you feel, you always seem to try and hang on to faith.
And we're still clinging now - despite the fear, the hurt, the confusion - we cling to the Truth that someday, our baby will be home. Someday, never will be a memory. But for now, it's our reality.
Pray for us?