A Prayer

The last thing Ellie's preschool teacher said to me was "We'll be praying for you tomorrow".

I took a bath last night. It wasn't relaxing. I knew my legs needed shaving but I was balancing a book, and rather then move the cups and alphabet letters, I shifted around them like you do when the cat sleeps on the bed.

I thought "I'm not going to sit in water again now until September. Maybe longer"
Then I thought about what else I won't do again.
I won't be picking Ellie up.
We won't be having sex.
I won't run, stoop, carry or squat.
I won't strain when I poop.
I'm definitely not eating salmon or tuna (talk about foods that have killed me lately.)
I'm not going to pray.


God knows.
He knows that I'm trusting him.
I don't need to call his attention down on me, or direct more prayers his way.
He knows that I have asked, just the once, for his will to be done and I know that it will be revealed.
I'm...waiting.

"Are you worried?"
No. Yes.
No because it's out of my hands. Today I'll lie there (lay there? I really need to have Cindy correct my grammar someday) and they'll put me to sleep. I think I'm more worried about the epidural. What if I become a lifetime movie? Paralyzed with Twins. And then I think about how people put cats under to get them groomed, fixed - and some never wake up.

When I had the D&C in June I remember asking the doctor to please not let me die from the anesthesia. Strangely, or not so strangely, she didn't laugh. I think it must be a common fear.

Doug's coming with me.
He'll be useless, of course, like all men at hospitals, bumbling bags and insurance cards, worrying. Intercepting. Afraid to talk but fully willing to comment on anything I may do or say.

I wish my handicap placard was approved. We'll be walking forever today. Although I think they wheel me out.

As far as the babies, worry? On the one hand we should. It's vanity to assume that everything will go ok, it's tempting fate. It's arrogant. Yet fruitless to worry, what will be, will be. i'm not walking in assuming "Oh god will watch over us" nor am I blindly, blithely assuming that all will be fine. i just, can't ask for an outcome. Because it's larger then me.

When Ellie's teacher said she'd pray I thought "please pray for god's will to be done." Because seldom do I think you should pray for anything but.

I don't ever pray that god do what I want.
I pray "do what's best. do what in your wisdom is best."

Before i got married there were nights I'd lie (lay? Cindy, really, step in here) in bed and think "why did you give me the capacity to love if you didn't intend for me to use it?" Followed by "you must have a plan for me, I just need to listen, to wait." Because there were times when I heard a voice greater then mine and I choose not to listen, I defended bad behavior, I lived unauthentically, when confronted with a choice, I marginalized myself or my instincts instead allowing myself to be led by things false - money, security, desire. I think it was only when I said "Please, you decide. You take over. You steer the ship." that all my wishes came true.

I still don't listen, I mean to, but I'm human.
Fallable,
Imperfect.
It's something I work on. The waiting for guidance.
It goes against culture, it's counterintuitive. Waiting itself is a choice. Inaction is stll action, but it flies in the face of the 1930s Ford Roosevelt mentality. Decide your fate, Americans. Work hard. Make it happen.

Some things aren't meant to be forced.

In the face of things small, I fight. I rally. I get angry, I try to affect change.
In the face of things large, while I don't surrender, I let go. Because the universe always, always takes care of me. If you are silent, if you listen, if you pray that god give you what he desires for you, what he sees is best for you, rather then what you comprehend you desire, it's generally what you are meant to have.

Do I pray that I become a mother again? No. Do I pray that today goes well, no.
What am I praying for, nothing?
I'm not asking.
I'm listening.
I'm waiting.

I worry maybe that we were vain. Like in mythology that we reached too high, we wanted too much. That we weren't meant for children and by pursuing what was not given, that god will give us 'what we asked for' in the form of children who shouldn't be here. So I never ever ask. I am...humble. I'm repentant if he told me not to try and I didn't listen. Not because I'm pregnant now, but because I forgot to listen. I couldn't hear anything besides us, thinking we should. Justifying that we had the love to give, and that we want Ellie to have siblings. I wasn't ...serene. I didn't listen. I wasn't listening. So now it's hard to hear.

I will not pray for children to live. That's foolhardy.
Will I quote Enter Sandman and say to be careful what you wish, for you just might get it?

I ...hope?...for their sake not mine, that if children are meant to be here that they come whole. That I don't burden my husband, my daughter, with a lifetime of caretaking for siblings, for a child, for children that need constant medical care. That I didn't take our life, our good life, and ruin it with desire. That my ambitions don't punish them. I will survive.

One outcome of today is that it stresses my cervix. That instead of buying me time, it shortens my time. At 13 , 14 weeks I'll be safe. I think. But at 19, 20, 22...god's will be done. If they are born too early, they will die.
Surely.
I don't pray that away.

I can only state my intentions.
So this morning I dedicate myself, in this circumstance to god' will.

- I'm sorry if I wasn't listening. I don't want to interrupt you plans by asking for anything, interrupt your day by praying. I've already rang that doorbell, you know where I'm standing. I'm just here. I'm not hurrying you. You know that I'm willing to accept your plan. My intentions are for your will to be done.

I'm not sure though that I can decide for Doug, for Ellie. So please, please keep my husband and daughter safe. Please protect them today, and my friends, from pain, and my doctors from error. Please watch everyone around me and take care of Megan today. Give her joy in her heart and peace, not so she can take better care of Ellie but because she is good, and she should feel that in her heart. Please take care of my friend Linda today, who has a new baby of her own and I know is watching over us with hope. Please give me the ability to resolve my anger, you know at who. I cannot do that alone.

Please spare those around me from the follies I perpetuated. Don't punish them for my transgressions, if I have been blind or haven't listened.

If we are meant, in your wisdom, to bring children then you decide for us. If you give them I will care for them, if you take them, i will know they are not meant to be.

In all cases, I defer to you.
I will not ask for strength, you have already made me.
I will not ask for hope, my hope lies within you.

I ask that you protect those you can and help me please listen to your voice. And thank you for the gifs I have already been given.


I'm tired now and going back to sleep.
There's one hour between now and the alarm clock, and sometime in that hour I hope that I can stop talking, and start listening.