Now I posted that story yesterday to talk about being robbed. Oh, no, not of anything monetary, but about a theft of time. This passage from yesterday's post speaks to me:
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
God this is a telling paragraph, especially for someone who experienced infertility. I long for those ten years back that it took to conceive my son. He would be 13 years old now! I keep thinking that if I had been 10 years younger when I had him that I might be here to see his children graduate from high school. But I'm not. I will be lucky to see his children graduate elementary school.
I know. I know. If we had had him at another time it wouldn't be him that we have. And I wouldn't trade This Precious Child for anything. I love him so hard it hurts when I think of it. I cried when I read Amalah's post about loving her child. And this picture simply screams mother love.
But it doesn't stop me from wishing...
I want to see what kind of man he will become. I want to see him fall in love and marry. I hope to see the husband and father that he will be.
It makes me wish that I believed in an afterlife so that even if I can't be here for him that I can at least watch him grow up. I need to see him grow up. I need those years back.
Infertility stole time from my son.
And that makes me mad.