He's Right On Time

I picked up my little princess from day care yesterday, brought her home and proceeded to get her ready for her 6:00 meal and nap that she’s enjoyed every day for the last two months. She gulped down her bottle with ease (after I had to add more milk because it was too thick and she did a good bit of complaining about that). But, no nap was in the cards this evening. She was wide awake and ready to venture into daddy’s corner to chew on his shoes or grab at his dinner tray. I thought this was strange for a moment but then it came to me. Today, November 3, 2010, marks 8 months of life for her. Eight months. In four more, she’ll be one year old. WOW! There is a very particular reason why this is such a tremendous accomplishment. Sure, I’ll share….

 

My first child, my son – RhoShon, was born to me after three miscarriages. I was trying to get pregnant. I wasn’t very smart during that time of my life. My decisions were warped by what I considered to be a life long love affair. This love affair cost me a college degree; a decline in self esteem; and, a lifetime of emotional baggage and insecurity. But, it was all worth it because I was able to bring this child into the world and he’s been a most perfect gift. There are many things I wish I could do over from that period of time, having him is most definitely not one of them.

 

Time passed and the dangerously infectious love affair ended. I started enjoying life and doing a little bit of dating here and there. I was fine for a while but then the desire to be a mother again started kicking in right around the time my son was turning seven. It was also around this time that he went to live with his father who was in a more stable environment than I was.   I tried to ignore the desire since I wasn’t in a relationship that amounted to much, but I knew it was there even though I tried lying to myself to mask the pain of not being in a committed relationship and thus not being anywhere close to being ready for the child I desired.

 

Then, the Creator sent me hope for change. I met Brad, the man who would one day become my husband.  After a brief courtship, we eased into a relationship without even knowing it. We were living for the moment and not sure what was to happen, but we didn’t concentrate on marriage or children. Neither of us, at that time, were being the parents we wanted to the children we already had for one reason or another, so we made a mutual, conscious decision to just let life live us instead of trying to make plans for the future. This decision later came back to bite us on our pretty little fannies.

 

Our lives began to take different directions and we drifted away from each other. We ended our coexistence and tried to start new lives. During the time away from him, I began, again, to want a child. I was lonely and hurt, tainted. I needed another opportunity to prove to the Heavenly Father that I could be a good mother. I realized by now that I had wasted precious time with my son by choosing to let him live with his father. I had began to hate making that decision although, deep down within, I knew (and still know) that was the best decision I could have made. Confession: I never thought when I got myself together he’d pass up on the opportunity to come back to live with me. I never EVER considered that he’d choose to stay with his father. But he did and that hurt me for many years – still does. So, I wanted to prove to myself and to my son that I was ready to be a mother holistically. Maybe then he’d come back. I honestly didn’t care at that time if I was “with” the father or not. I wanted to give some validity to my life and to show just how far I had come in my adulthood.

 

Needless to say, I did NOT get pregnant. Not even any close calls. I began to sink into a terrible depression because I believed that the Creator had given up on me. He didn’t find me worthy enough to bring one of his children into the world. Wow, that devastated me. If I was only given one shot at this, then I’ve failed. I haven’t been able to actually BE a mother. Was the Creator now punishing me for a decision that I made after much prayer and meditation?

 

At my lowest point, Brad re-enters my life. He restored my strength - again. He lead me right back to the person I was born to be. He picked me up and carried me away from that hurt and pain that I’d claimed. I was able to let go of all the negative thoughts I’d welcomed. I had begun to feel really good about myself and about my life and about love.

 

Our relationship picked up where it left off minus the years between. We started having discussions about marriage and children that we’d never had before. I was pretty sure I had lost my best years and that I wouldn’t be able to have another child. I tried to prepare him for that. He understood, but being the well balanced man that he is, he asked me to go to an OBGYN just to check so we’re not spinning our wheels and so that I may keep my sanity in tack. I’m not sure I could have gone through the pregnancy tests every month and the praying and the hoping.  I wouldn’t have survived that again.

 

Under the doctor’s care, I had three ectopic pregnancies in a year’s time. By the third, I was loosing touch with reality and becoming a bit frazzled with life in general. I remember spending many nights crying and begging the Creator to reconsider me for motherhood. I remember feeling like I had not completed what I was put on earth to do. That’s a horrible feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I was depressed, but I kept going and I tried to mask my inner turmoil. Finally, the doctor said there was a procedure she could do that may possibly help me. I said to her, “This is it. I can not do this anymore. Each time I drive down McDowell Road, whether I’m coming here or not, tears flood my face. I have anxiety attacks. I am not doing this anymore.” She held my hand as I cried for - at the very least - 30 minutes. I think she almost cried with me. She was honest, “I can’t promise this will work. But it’s worth a try. I know y’all want to have a baby. Let’s see what happens.”

 

We made an appointment for a minor surgery. Brad and I promised to not think about it again. In December of that year, he proposed to me. I accepted and we began planning a wedding for October of the next year. By July, we were pregnant. Of course, we weren’t out of the water yet because I had a history of ectopic pregnancies so my doctor very emphatically suggested that we wait before spreading the news. Three months later when all was clear, we knew it was real and we were ecstatic.

 

When my sweet Bralynn Jamila reaches those inevitable teenage years where she feels like I’ve done her no favors by bringing her into this world, I’ll remind her of the journey her mother went through to get her here. I’ll also make sure she understands that the Creator’s work is never in our control. It took nearly 12 years for me to get her here and it was only when the Creator was ready that my (our) prayers were answered. I recognize his plan now. I had to be mentally stable – something I wasn’t in the years that I was with my son’s father. I had to be wiser and ready to mold a child into a pattern that reflects the Creator’s Love and Goodness – something I couldn’t offer her before I met Brad. I had to be complete – something I certainly didn’t own until we became husband and wife. Most of all I had to appreciate the Creator’s time and respect his will – something I’ve struggled with my entire life.

 

Seeing my daughter’s illuminating and contagious smile reminds me several times a day just how wonderful the Creator has been to us. I am in constant submission to his will and his way. I never have to doubt anymore if He hears and/or answers prayers. I never have to doubt if He knows what’s best. I certainly never have to question if the Creator is always on time. 

 

I am a living testimony that He may not come when you want Him, but He’s right on time.