So yesterday was the big football game that could have gotten the Ravens to the Superbowl.
It came down to the last fifteen seconds, and thirty two yard field goal attempt to even the score and move the game into overtime. And then it happened.
Our kicker choked.
It went wide left. And when I say wide left, I mean wide left. And in a flash of a second, the game was over, just like that. All that hard work, the practices, the games we sat on the edge of our seat for since September – all down the drain. In one split second.
And I know its just football, there is always next year, we played a good game and had a great season yadayadayada. But sports are often used as metaphors in life. And it scared me, because what if that happens to us?
What if we get to the zero hour, the last seconds before glory and it all falls apar? All the hard work we’ve put in to it, the nights laying awake wondering, the homestudy, the money, the emotions, the time, the heartache and tears…and in one split decision, in the blink of an eye it all just vanishes. Our hopes and dreams and hard work all done in vain.
I’m all over the place lately.
One second I’m excited and looking at nursery things and wondering what you’ll be like, what your name will be (besides, of course, little one), how old you’ll be the next time the Ravens get a chance like this, silly things. And then I snap out of it and think, what in the hell am I doing? I’m planning and thinking about a baby that we might have no chance at ever parenting. I’m spending so much time and energy on what could just be a pipe dream.
What if this is all for nothing?
And it doesn’t scare me that we are at least trying. It scares me that it won’t happen at all. That I’ll wake up one day, get a phone call and it will end the dreams and happiness we’ve gained thus far. And it just kills me to think about it. What if the birth mother backs out? What if, when she gets counseling in two weeks she decides then she’s going to parent? What if we don’t pass a homestudy? What if we don’t have the funds necessary to carry this out? What if one of us loses a job, and thus loses a chance at a family? What if it all falls apart?
And here we are, a young happy couple on the brink of greatness and not at all prepared for a let down. Even though we are young, other couples we know are doing laps around us…they are turning out kids like there is no tomorrow. And when we look at the pictures of the pink cheeked swaddled bundle of joy the parents are so (understandably) happy and proud of, we think back. When they were having their firsts, we were still trying.
And here we are, three years later. Childless. Still trying. Grasping for straws, holding on to dreams of a baby that might never be. And its scary. Its quite possibly the scariest thing we’ve ever been through…and trust me, we’ve been through some scary stuff. Medical emergencies, job losses, car accidents…we’ve had a taste of it all. And while we’ve been extremely lucky in some respects (we both have good- albiet stressful- jobs, we own our own house- albiet small, we have a great support system in our great family and friends, and more than anything we have a great marriage and partner in each other) we have also been extremely unlucky in other respects (mainly medical problems). We’ve gone through things couples that have fifty years on us have never gone through. I had my kidney removed less than a year after we moved in together, and subsequently lost my job. And we’ve made it through it all, we’ve walked through hell and made it to the other side on several occasions.
But this? I’m not sure I could come out on the other side. I’m not sure I could handle this kind of heartbreak. And I know that I would have thought that before- if you would have said you’re going to go through this and that, I would probably say No way! I will never be able to handle that! But when faced with it, we did. And we will if this falls apart. We’ll pick up the pieces and move on. But the anxiety is killing me.
I just want to close my eyes, and open them in June. Knowing the outcome, knowing what happened and being able to move on either way.
But I can’t. And it hurts.
All I want in this crazy mixed up split-second life changing world is you in my arms. And even though its terrifying, its worth it. And we’ll make it through this together, as we always do. The benefit far outweighs the risk.
And if it doesn’t work out, it will break my heart- but it won’t break my spirit.
I won’t choke.