Giving Up Dreams

This is raw stuff that I'm just hoping to type out and let go. You don't even have to read any further, actually.

Today I was cleaning out the depths of our master bedroom closet. It was hideous and no, I'm not going to post before and after photos. Way back in the corner, behind the skirts from pioneer trek and my first temple dress sat The Box. I don't think even my husband knows about The Box. I guess now he does. Inside is some reminder of each dream of a child that wasn't meant to be. There are a couple of tiny outfits, one with a frog. There is a little stuffed tiger holding a blanket. There is a little hairbow and a ceramic angel. A piece of OB/GYN office stationery from 1995. Each time my heart was opened to a little one, I found something to hold onto. It helped me remember to pray and it helped me love them for however long I could. I'm probably crazy, and let me tell you, there are many more reasons to believe that. But to me, they were each a real part of our family. For a few days, for a few weeks or months, for a year or so.

There was one who would have learned to drive this year. Our Christmas baby. We never knew for sure but she was always a she to us. Aspen. Our first baby. There was a little girl in China who, in a roundabout way, led us to our Tiana. She made me brave enough to talk to J about what had been in my heart for years. There was a tiny little brown baby boy who I desperately wanted to bring home last year. That was the first time that J just came right out and said "NO" to a child. I was shocked. It didn't seem fair for my heart to be so smitten and for his to be so NOT. There was another little boy, seen frequently on this blog, again in China. For him, I fought and I argued and I prayed. And I prayed. And I prayed. For a year and more. I don't know whether I was the only one in our home pestering the Heavens on his behalf but I did a fine job of it, and a constant one. He was matched with a family who I pray daily will love him every second of the rest of his life. Because I already do. And he was the last "No" I could bear to hear. And so I gave up the dream. I Gave Up. And ever since I've felt like I failed the test that I was given by my Father in Heaven. I don't think I will ever feel like our family is complete but the little stuffed tiger goes into the box and maybe it will be the last little reminder I have to put in and close up. The hardest one for me so far. I was so sure. I know it is wrong for me to ask that these feelings just be taken away. Sometimes I get angry, railing at God for putting these feelings on my heart when I can't do a darn thing about them. It makes NO sense, what I feel and know deep down where there is no logic or finance or reluctance or thought. Just love. I hate to admit that sometimes, it isn't enough.