Wednesday, February 27, 2013


When I moved in to my college apartment, I put Powerpuff Girl decals on my walls...because they were awesome.  Are awesome, let's be real.  But I digress.  After a while, I found this life; a life that I wanted on my walls.  So, I went to Wallmart and bought some cheap frames and a set of shelves, all in black, and configured them into my life on a wall.  Sadly, I don't have pictures of my room, other than this one where you can kind of see it.  My room was adorbs.  

Since then, I have continued to want my life on my walls.  There have been new faces behind the frames things added, things taken away, and things reconfigured.

Sadly, I don't think we documented any of our time while living in the ghetto.

And here we are in yet a different configuration.  Someday, the pictures behind the frames will change, I imagine the frames will get more expensive, or at least bigger.  :)  Someday.  

I will be twenty-nine in nineteen days.  I'm already trying to think positive.  A birthday means a celebration and gifts, but it also means another year closer to 30-- another year that I have not been a mother. 

My baby brother and his wife have a lot of reconfiguring to do as they are expecting in September.  While I am happy for them, it has taken a while, and a lot of tears, prayer, and chocolate to accept that the proper order of operations is not the one that is meant to be.  My younger brother and his wife will have the first grandchild.  They will be parents before us.  My baby brother is going to be a dad.  

At the same time, my cousin, Jake, and his wife, whom I have written of before, received a beautiful baby girl into their home through the miracle of adoption, on Jake's birthday!!  Jake and I do everything together, or at least within months of each other.  We have been close through these years of infertility and when Jake told me they'd finally decided to adopt, I couldn't help but think we might get babies at the same time, or within months of each other, just like Jake and I were.  I am overwhelmingly happy for them, as I know their unbearable heartache, but it creates quite the juxtaposition knowing that I am not ready yet to receive a baby.  My heart is ready, but my body is not.  I don't know when it will be, but I doubt it will be in time to receive an infant on my birthday. 

I am getting there.  Crawling when necessary.  But it's so agonizingly slow.  It feels as I am thrown a foot backward for every inch I claw my way through.  Don't you give up.  The light is darkest before the end of the tunnel.  Just keep swimming.  It's the final countdown.  These are things I keep telling myself.

I read a journal entry dated June 24, 2005.  One year and six days before my wedding day.

Dear Journal,
I don't know what the hell I'm doing here.  I have literally been sitting at this desk playing solitaire for 3 hours.  At first it was great having a boss who was all about going shopping and out to lunch during the weekday to "familiarize myself with the city," but I came here as a means to jump start my career.  Jordan is gone again today with instructions to "Hang out."  Nobody even has any mundane tasks for the little peeon (me, not Jordan).  
Deneal met a boy, so when she's not flying, she isn't home.  Living in a mansion is great, but not by yourself.  The basement creeps. me. out.  I love it here, but I feel stuck.  I feel like I'm supposed to be doing something, accomplishing something, but I can't figure out what it is.  Obviously getting ahead in the career world isn't it.  
At home, everyone is gone.  Julie, the last of the girls, got married the day I moved.  I drove straight from the wedding breakfast.  Kara is engaged to Aaron and will be leaving soon too.  Maybe my new roommates will save me during this last, cherish-able semester.  

I should have just punched out and went to the beach.  :)  Now, I know what I was doing.  I was making it so my future husband was completely deserted and so he could get his shit together and so that while he did that, we could be pen pals and develop fiercely denied crushes on one another.

About three months before we moved into this house I was sitting in a cafe with my friend telling her how we had gone through almost 50 houses and how every one was a complete wreck and I had no idea how we were ever going to find something that wasn't a total project, which we didn't have room in our budget for, or didn't smell entirely of cat pee.  Then, we found it.  The house that I still wander through in awe somedays.   The one I would hug if my arms were long enough.  

It all works out how it is meant to.  God performs miracles and moves mountains...he just needs to figure out how to reconfigure them.


Kari said...

I really like that last sentence. You have a great attitude, but I know it's still hard. Thinking of you!

...Our whole upstairs smelled of cat pee when we moved in. We ripped out the carpet in our master bedroom, and we've been living on subfloor since then. Ghetto!

Seantae Jackson said...

Oh babe. I've been meaning to tell you something for years- I'm going to email you right now. Then I have to tell you :)