Enough

Month Four. Four months. In the grand scheme of life, four measly months is nothing, a blip on the screen, a snap of the fingers, a breath. In the game of waiting, however, four months feels like an eternity. Four months divided up into two week periods of waiting. Waiting to try, waiting to find out if the trying was successful.  Hopes high, hopes dashed; week in and week out. And so it goes.

In the back of my mind, when the cramping realization hits each month, I wonder: is this it?  (Alongside that thought are also the thoughts that mock: someday you’ll look back on this and laugh at your over-dramatization.) And, laugh, I certainly hope I will. But today, for now, the struggle is quite real. The announcements and pictures plastered all over produce tiny little stabs in my heart and my gut. Joy, jealousy, excitement, and a little bit of “when will it be our turn?” churn through with each grainy image posted, each “Big Sister” t-shirt donned.

I am amazed at the speed in which the switch flipped. The “no, we’re not ready yet,” jumped to “now! and why hasn’t it happened yet?” From one extreme to the other, we careened. And now the pendulum is seeking some middle space. The middle that knows, hopes, it will happen someday, when the time is right. The place of acceptance without despair. The place of “For now, this is enough.”

And I think I mean it. This is enough. We are enough. You are enough.  We are a family, you and I. We are already complete. This is enough: this late night reading, this early morning slow waking, this stressful, carefree, spontaneous, and overplanned life we’ve made.  Someday, let’s add to our number. Someday, let’s have a little boy with your sparkling gray-blue eyes. Or a little girl with your perfect lips and knee-weakening smile.  Let’s fill our table and buy a bigger car and spend too much money on Little League fees. Someday.

But for now, this is enough. And I love this life we have together.