This is my story

Alongside the hopes of another child comes So. Much. Waiting. You’d think after three years of trying, I’d be very comfortable with waiting. Growing in patience and comfort in the “in-between.” 

Soul shines in the in-between. Life happens in the in-between. In the descents and the ascents, the plateaus, and the queues. In the paths between milestones, achievements, and dreams-come-true. 

I’ve been smack in the center of the in-between for 3 years. 

And my mind doesn’t like it there. 

My mind craves resolution, an outcome, and an achievement. 

But Soul says, “sit… sit… be right here. Everything is fine, and you have nothing to worry about.” She knows it to be true, and so do I. 

But my mind won’t accept it. There must be more we can do, other options to try… clearly, YOU are not trying hard enough. 

And my mind gets in the way of my knowing. My mind gets so loud that it drowns out this truth. And my mind pushes me - out of my moment and into my effort. A place that the two of us are very familiar and very comfortable in. 

Another 25 days pass, and we are greeted with the arrival of cramps and a heavy heart. Perhaps I’m not trying hard enough after all…

“Be kind to you,” my soul reminds me. “This is a chance to practice showing yourself compassion. You’re really good at trying… you already know how to do that… what if instead, just for today, you let kindness lead instead. To you and for you…”

I can do that, I think. At least I can try… and for a few days I do. I let myself lounge. I let myself eat Nutella out of the jar. I let the laundry pile grow a bit larger, and my grocery list get a bit longer. I take it easy. I give my mind a break. I think, “I may be getting the hang of this ‘self-compassion’ thing…” 

And then - ovulation signs arrive. 

“Must. Try. Again. Must. Try Again. Must…” my mind reminds me. 

“…don’t you want to know that you did everything you could… that you tried as hard as you could… that on the eve of your 40th birthday you can look at your sweet only-child and know ‘I gave it my all to bring a sibling into your life. I promise…’ and then, only then, let your dream fade into the distance…”

So I try. We try. And as the effort increases, my hopes ascend. “This month really does feel different,” I think. And the PMSing signs do appear a bit more intense than usual, so, you know… it could happen…” and then, on the 25th day: cramps and tears. 

In these three years of trying, life has happened. 

My daughter’s growth and development hasn’t been put on pause. She moved from diapers and Muppet Babies to Disney princesses and nail polish. 

My hair has gotten a bit grayer - so has my husband’s beard. 

Elections occurred. 

A global pandemic arrived. 

We went into lockdown.

We made banana bread. 

We potty trained our toddler.

And we gently transitioned back into the world. 

Loved ones are having birthdays, having babies, and having heartbreaks. 

All while I quietly tread water in the in-between. 

The in-between doesn’t separate us from any of these occurrences. We are still a part of them, engaged in them, and impacted by them. 

We simply do so with a constant aching sensation in our hearts. No matter how wonderful or how entertaining or how enabling or how grounding a particular moment can be, the absence of the in-between yields longing. And the longing burns. The longing distracts. And the longing makes it so easy for us to lead with our heads. 

Because our minds have a plan. Effort = results. Therefore more effort = more results! Better results! Quicker results! If this, then that. And we try. And we try. And we try. And yet, month after month after month after month, life goes on all around us, and we remain, nestled awkwardly in the in-between. 

There is a light in the in-between. And that light is soul. She shines there. She thrives there. She supports there. She knows exactly what you require, and she embraces you without hesitation, without critique, and without unsolicited advice. Without ever saying, “it’ll happen when you just stop trying…” 

In 36 months, I haven’t succeeded at ceasing trying. I am currently trying not to try. Perhaps someday I’ll write about the day I was able to truly let go of trying. But today, soul says, “sit, sit… be right here. Everything is fine, and you have nothing to worry about.”

And with a Nutella-covered spoon beside me, I know it to be true. 

And I accept where I am. 

Right there. Right now. 

In the in-between. 

No achievement or dream-come-true in sight, but a recognition that it’s okay to be right here, absent of those things. It’s okay to enjoy this life, absent of those things. 

And it’s okay to share this story, absent of those things…

“Be kind to you, Dear One…” she says. “Today, the most valuable thing you can do is to be kind to you.”