All my life I wanted to be a mom. It was the one thing I knew I wanted, without a doubt. When I was young and imagined what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer was always A mom. When I married my husband we couldn't have kids - he had had a vasectomy many years prior, after the birth of his son from his first marriage. Knowing this was reversible, in late 1999 we visited a urologist, took out a $5,000 loan, and had him un-fixed.
Right about the time this happened I wrote in my journal that I had a feeling I would be pregnant within two months. Keep in mind, a successful pregnancy was not in our favor. The vasectomy was about eleven years old, then add to that the odds of actually getting pregnant, and what we had was a slim-to-none chance that we would successfully bear a child.
Wouldn't you know, about two months after the procedure, I had a positive blood test confirming a pregnancy. In the excitement we called everyone and their cats and dogs, letting the world know we were expecting, when the due date would be...you know the drill. The next morning I got my period.
I was devastated. I worried it was our only chance to have a baby and now it was nothing more than another used tampon. I remember going to work that morning and leaving almost as soon as I arrived - I just wanted to go home and cry for the rest of my life. In the car I turned on the radio, and the song Lullabye, by Shawn Mullins, was playing. Right at the chorus.
Everything is gonna be alright.....rockabye...
If you don't know that song give it a listen - the chorus, that part I heard at that very moment, was powerful.
Although it didn't take all the hurt away right that instant, it did infuse me with the feeling that everything would in fact, be alright. Two months after that painful day, I became pregnant with Amanda.
Right now I'm trying to get a job as a photojournalist with our local newspaper. For all intents and purposes, this would be the perfect job for me. The editor is happy with my photos that he has seen, but he's concerned with my lack of newspaper/photojournalism experience. While I completely understand his worry, I just want to shake him and reassure him that he would not be disappointed. I desperately want this job.
Then I think about that morning with that song, and I remember that not getting what I want sometimes means something better is just around the corner.
The good people at the newspaper haven't quite decided what to do with me - they might give me a try in July to see how things go. Regardless, I'm trying my best to remember that things happen for a reason, and if it's meant to be that I get that job, I'll get it. If it's not then I won't.
One way or another, everything's gonna be alright.