I am a Mom Wannabe

A Mom Wannabe

By Alison Kathleen Whitney

I want to be a Mom. But I can't. Instead, I am a Mom Wannabe.

I want to procreate. I want to conceive a child, naturally, with my husband, in the privacy of our home, in the spirit of love and passion, in the way God intended. But I can't.

I want to discover that my period is several days late. I want to buy a pregnancy test and pee on a stick. I want to see a + sign. I want to cry tears of joy for the news we'd discovered. But I can't. Instead, I cry tears of pain at random, for no reason and with no warning.

I want to experience morning sickness. I want my hormones to go haywire. I want the "pregnant glow". I want to have my husband talk to my belly. But I can't. Instead, I try not to look pregnant. I don't buy clearance clothes for next year, "just in case". I try to keep my emotions from going haywire. I dream that my husband talks to my belly.

I want to take prenatal vitamins. I want to eat for two. I want to schedule my first doctor's visit. I want to sit in the waiting room with other pregnant women and know that I am one of them. But I can't. Instead, I wonder if those pregnant women ever had problems conceiving. I think how cute they look as they waddle with their big bellies. I smile at babies that are not mine. I ache from loving someone I've never met.

I want to hear the doctor say "You're Pregnant. Your progress is right on schedule." But I can't. I want to surprise my parents with a new grandchild. I want to tell my friends and family our good news. I want my life to change overnight. I want to read "What to Expect When You're Expecting". But I can't. Instead, I have no news to tell. I realize my life hasn't changed in years. I read "When Empty Arms become a Heavy Burden".

I want to monitor the progress. I want to see ultrasounds. I want to hear the heartbeat. I want to watch our baby grow. I want to feel the kicks, but I can't. I want to decorate the nursery. I want to childproof our home. I want to shop for adorable, soft, tiny outfits. I want to shop at Gymboree. I want to save money for the baby's future. Instead, I imagine a crib in an empty room down the hall. I avoid baby stores in the mall. We spend our money on doctor's appointments, tests and
high-tech procedures. We spend our money on a dream. We are left with an empty bank account. We are left with empty arms.

I want to share the experience with my pregnant friends. I want to compare symptoms. I want to be the guest of honor at a baby shower. But I can't. Instead, I watch my friends get pregnant quickly. I watch their bellies grow, attend their showers, see their pictures and try to be a good friend. I watch their lives change and our friendships change in front of my eyes.

I want my belly to drop. I want my water to break. I want contractions. I want an epidural. I want my husband by my side and my family in the waiting room. I want the pushing. I want the pain. I want to hear the cry. But I can't. Instead, I feel a different pain. I hear my own cry. Yes, I even hear the cry of my husband which hurts more than I had ever imagined.

I want to hold our baby in my arms, with tears of joy streaming down our faces. I want to experience the miracle of birth, thinking "We did it", but knowing that God did it. But I can't. Instead, I hold my husband in my arms with tears of sorrow streaming down our faces and wondering what God's plan is for us and why we have to go through this.

I want to pray that one extra special blessing be added to my life. And I do. I pray my 1000th unanswered prayer to God and hope this time He answers. I pray for the miracle of life that only God can give. I pray that someday soon He will give it to us.

I want to be a mom, but I can't.