I will always be a mom who waits.
I came to this realization as I walked the aisles at a local pharmacy, lost in thought, waiting for a prescription to be filled.
I looked around the store, jam packed with toiletries, vitamins, tissues, and snacks. My eye zoomed in on a pregnancy test. Emotions instantly flooded my entire body- not because I was pregnant or even thinking about it, but because, I remembered the excitement, the pure ignorance, the sheer happiness I felt when I took a test the very first time I suspected that I was pregnant.
Those times seem so foreign to me now. I had no idea or connection to the fact that miscarriage would touch upon our lives. I had no idea that rare disease would be a part of our every day.
Those times were simpler, and so, so, innocent. Sometimes, if I am being honest with myself- I miss those days.
I knew that these things existed, obviously, but did not have a strong connection or understanding. I had empathy for those who suffered, but did not truly understand their lives…until it became my own.
Before my first child, Noah, was born, I had a miscarriage. It altered the way I viewed life, pregnancy, and motherhood, in general.
How could this happen to me? What did I do wrong? Was this my fault?
And there I was…worried about how my next pregnancies would unfold. I was waiting to feel confident enough to become pregnant again.
I waited for the arrival of this child, holding my breath, and crossing my fingers every step of the way.
A healthy baby boy was born, and in hindsight, I wish I savored every moment because I was naïve to how “easy” we had it. I had no idea that the anxious or post-partum feelings that I experienced, were minimal compared to what I felt after Hailey’s arrival.
I remember waiting for Noah to reach certain milestones, little did I know, my second child would have me on my toes, waiting and waiting, and waiting.
When Hailey was born, I waited.
I waited for people to believe me.
I waited for doctor appointments.
I waited for answers.
I waited for her therapies to pay off. I waited for her to catch up to her peers. I waited to accept our reality, her diagnosis, and for a time when I would feel at peace with all that stood in our way.
Time continues to moves forward, yet at times, I feel as though I am waiting to move along with it. There are times when I am standing still, waiting to push on.
Now, I wait. I wait for the day Hailey lifts her head with confidence and 100 percent control. I wait for her devices and equipment to help her move, literally, physically, and emotionally.
I wait for the day a cure is found.
Until then, we wait. But while we wait, we continue to trust that science, hope, and prayer is on our side.